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Hart -and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] -[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales -of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or -software or any other related product without express permission.] - -*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.07/27/01*END* - - - - - -Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com -and John Bickers, jbickers@ihug.co.nz - - - - - -FILE NO. 113 - -by EMILE GABORIAU - - - - -I - -In the Paris evening papers of Tuesday, February 28, 1866, under the -head of /Local Items/, the following announcement appeared: - - - "A daring robbery, committed against one of our most eminent - bankers, M. Andre Fauvel, caused great excitement this morning - throughout the neighborhood of Rue de Provence. - - "The thieves, who were as skilful as they were bold, succeeded in - making an entrance to the bank, in forcing the lock of a safe that - has heretofore been considered impregnable, and in possessing - themselves of the enormous sum of three hundred and fifty thousand - francs in bank-notes. - - "The police, immediately informed of the robbery, displayed their - accustomed zeal, and their efforts have been crowned with success. - Already, it is said, P. B., a clerk in the bank, has been - arrested, and there is every reason to hope that his accomplices - will be speedily overtaken by the hand of justice." - - -For four days this robbery was the town talk of Paris. - -Then public attention was absorbed by later and equally interesting -events: an acrobat broke his leg at the circus; an actress made her -debut at a small theatre: and the /item/ of the 28th was soon -forgotten. - -But for once the newspapers were--perhaps intentionally--wrong, or at -least inaccurate in their information. - -The sum of three hundred and fifty thousand francs certainly had been -stolen from M. Andre Fauvel's bank, but not in the manner described. - -A clerk had also been arrested on suspicion, but no decisive proof had -been found against him. This robbery of unusual importance remained, -if not inexplicable, at least unexplained. - -The following are the facts as they were related with scrupulous -exactness at the preliminary examination. - - - -II - -The banking-house of Andre Fauvel, No. 87 Rue de Provence, is an -important establishment, and, owing to its large force of clerks, -presents very much the appearance of a government department. - -On the ground-floor are the offices, with windows opening on the -street, fortified by strong iron bars sufficiently large and close -together to discourage all burglarious attempts. - -A large glass door opens into a spacious vestibule where three or four -office-boys are always in waiting. - -On the right are the rooms to which the public is admitted, and from -which a narrow passage leads to the principal cash-room. - -The offices of the corresponding clerk, book-keeper, and general -accounts are on the left. - -At the farther end is a small court on which open seven or eight -little wicket doors. These are kept closed, except on certain days -when notes are due; and then they are indispensable. - -M. Fauvel's private office is on the first floor over the offices, and -leads into his elegant private apartments. - -This private office communicates directly with the bank by means of a -narrow staircase, which opens into the room occupied by the head -cashier. - -This room, which in the bank goes by the name of the "cash-office," is -proof against all attacks, no matter how skilfully planned; indeed, it -could almost withstand a regular siege, sheeted as it is like a -monitor. - -The doors, and the partition where the wicket door is cut, are covered -with thick sheets of iron; and a heavy grating protects the fireplace. - -Fastened in the wall by enormous iron clamps is a safe, a formidable -and fantastic piece of furniture, calculated to fill with envy the -poor devil who easily carries his fortune in a pocket-book. - -This safe, which is considered the masterpiece of the firm of Becquet, -is six feet in height and four and a half in width, made entirely of -wrought iron, with triple sides, and divided into isolated -compartments in case of fire. - -The safe is opened by an odd little key, which is, however, the least -important part of the mechanism. Five movable steel buttons, upon -which are engraved all the letters of the alphabet, constitute the -real power of this ingenious safe. - -Before inserting the key into the lock, the letters on the buttons -must be in the exact position in which they were placed when the safe -was locked. - -In M. Fauvel's bank, as everywhere, the safe was always closed with a -word that was changed from time to time. - -This word was known only to the head of the bank and the cashier, each -of whom had also a key to the safe. - -In a fortress like this, a person could deposit more diamonds than the -Duke of Brunswick's, and sleep well assured of their safety. - -But one danger seemed to threaten, that of forgetting the secret word -which was the "Open sesame" of the safe. - -On the morning of the 28th of February, the bank-clerks were all busy -at their various desks, about half-past nine o'clock, when a middle- -aged man of dark complexion and military air, clad in deep mourning, -appeared in the office adjoining the "safe," and announced to the five -or six employees present his desire to see the cashier. - -He was told that the cashier had not yet come, and his attention was -called to a placard in the entry, which stated that the "cash-room" -was opened at ten o'clock. - -This reply seemed to disconcert and annoy the newcomer. - -"I expected," he said, in a tone of cool impertinence, "to find -someone here ready to attend to my business. I explained the matter to -M. Fauvel yesterday. I am Count Louis de Clameran, an iron- -manufacturer at Oloron, and have come to draw three hundred thousand -francs deposited in this bank by my late brother, whose heir I am. It -is surprising that no direction was given about it." - -Neither the title of the noble manufacturer, nor his explanations, -appeared to have the slightest effect upon the clerks. - -"The cashier has not yet arrived," they repeated, "and we can do -nothing for you." - -"Then conduct me to M. Fauvel." - -There was a moment's hesitation; then a clerk named Cavaillon, who was -writing near a window, said: - -"The chief is always out at this hour." - -"Then I will call again," replied M. de Clameran. - -And he walked out, as he had entered, without saying "Good-morning," -or even touching his hat. - -"Not very polite, that customer," said little Cavaillon, "but he will -soon be settled, for here comes Prosper." - -Prosper Bertomy, head cashier of Fauvel's banking-house, was a tall, -handsome man, of about thirty, with fair hair and large dark-blue -eyes, fastidiously neat, and dressed in the height of fashion. - -He would have been very prepossessing but for a cold, reserved -English-like manner, and a certain air of self-sufficiency which -spoiled his naturally bright, open countenance. - -"Ah, here you are!" cried Cavaillon. "someone has just been asking for -you." - -"Who? An iron-manufacturer, was it not?" - -"Exactly." - -"Well, he will come back again. Knowing that I would get here late -this morning, I made all my arrangements yesterday." - -Prosper had unlocked his office-door, and, as he finished speaking, -entered, and closed it behind him. - -"Good!" exclaimed one of the clerks, "there is a man who never lets -anything disturb him. The chief has quarrelled with him twenty times -for always coming too late, and his remonstrances have no more effect -upon him than a breath of wind." - -"And very right, too; he knows he can get anything he wants out of the -chief." - -"Besides, how could he come any sooner? a man who sits up all night, -and leads a fast life, doesn't feel like going to work early in the -morning. Did you notice how very pale he looked when he came in?" - -"He must have been playing heavily again. Couturier says he lost -fifteen thousand francs at a sitting last week." - -"His work is none the worse done for all that," interrupted Cavaillon. -"If you were in his place--" - -He stopped short. The cash-room door suddenly opened, and the cashier -appeared before them with tottering step, and a wild, haggard look on -his ashy face. - -"Robbed!" he gasped out: "I have been robbed!" - -Prosper's horrified expression, his hollow voice and trembling limbs, -betrayed such fearful suffering that the clerks jumped up from their -desks, and ran toward him. He almost dropped into their arms; he was -sick and faint, and fell into a chair. - -His companions surrounded him, and begged him to explain himself. - -"Robbed?" they said; "where, how, by whom?" - -Gradually, Prosper recovered himself. - -"All the money I had in the safe," he said, "has been stolen." - -"All?" - -"Yes, all; three packages, each containing one hundred notes of a -thousand francs, and one package of fifty thousand. The four packages -were wrapped in a sheet of paper, and tied together." - -With the rapidity of lightning, the news of the robbery spread -throughout the banking-house, and the room was soon filled with -curious listeners. - -"Tell us, Prosper," said young Cavaillon, "did you find the safe -broken open?" - -"No; it is just as I left it." - -"Well then, how, why----" - -"Yesterday I put three hundred and fifty thousand francs in the safe; -and this morning they are gone." - -All were silent except one old clerk, who did not seem to share the -general consternation. - -"Don't distress yourself, M. Bertomy," he said: "perhaps the chief -disposed of the money." - -The unhappy cashier started up with a look of relief; he eagerly -caught at the idea. - -"Yes!" he exclaimed, "you are right: the chief must have taken it." - -But, after thinking a few minutes, he said in a tone of deep -discouragement: - -"No, that is impossible. During the five years that I have had charge -of the safe, M. Fauvel has never opened it except in my presence. -Several times he has needed money, and has either waited until I came, -or sent for me, rather than touch it in my absence." - -"Well," said Cavaillon, "before despairing, let us ascertain." - -But a messenger had already informed M. Fauvel of the disaster. - -As Cavaillon was about to go in quest of him, he entered the room. - -M. Andre Fauvel appeared to be a man of fifty, inclined to corpulency, -of medium height, with iron-gray hair; and, like all hard workers, he -had a slight stoop. - -Never did he by a single action belie the kindly expression of his -face. - -He had a frank air, a lively, intelligent eye, and large, red lips. - -Born in the neighborhood of Aix, he betrayed, when animated, a slight -Provencal accent that gave a peculiar flavor to his genial humor. - -The news of the robbery had extremely agitated him, for his usually -florid face was now quite pale. - -"What is this I hear? what has happened?" he said to the clerks, who -respectfully stood aside when he entered the room. - -The sound of M. Fauvel's voice inspired the cashier with the -factitious energy of a great crisis. The dreaded and decisive moment -had come; he arose, and advanced toward his chief. - -"Monsieur," he began, "having, as you know, a payment to make this -morning, I yesterday drew from the Bank of France three hundred and -fifty thousand francs." - -"Why yesterday, monsieur?" interrupted the banker. "I think I have a -hundred times ordered you to wait until the day of the payment." - -"I know it, monsieur, and I did wrong to disobey you. But the evil is -done. Yesterday evening I locked the money up: it has disappeared, and -yet the safe has not been broken open." - -"You must be mad!" exclaimed M. Fauvel: "you are dreaming!" - -These few words destroyed all hope; but the very horror of the -situation gave Prosper, not the coolness of a matured resolution, but -that sort of stupid, stolid indifference which often results from -unexpected catastrophes. - -It was with apparent calmness that he replied: - -"I am not mad; neither, unfortunately, am I dreaming: I am simply -telling the truth." - -This tranquillity at such a moment appeared to exasperate M. Fauvel. -He seized Prosper by the arm, and shook him roughly. - -"Speak!" he cried out. "Speak! who do you pretend to say opened the -safe? Answer me!" - -"I cannot say." - -"No one but you and I knew the secret word. No one but you and myself -had keys." - -This was a formal accusation; at least, all the auditors present so -understood it. - -Yet Prosper's strange calmness never left him for an instant. He -quietly released himself from M. Fauvel's grasp, and very slowly said: - -"In other words, monsieur, I am the only person who could have taken -this money." - -"Unhappy wretch!" - -Prosper drew himself to his full height, and, looking M. Fauvel full -in the face, added: - -"Or you!" - -The banker made a threatening gesture; and there is no knowing what -would have happened if they had not been interrupted by loud and angry -voices at the entry-door. - -A man insisted upon entering in spite of the protestations of the -errand-boys, and succeeded in forcing his way in. It was M. de -Clameran. - -The clerks stood looking on, bewildered and motionless. The silence -was profound, solemn. - -It was easy to see that some terrible question, a question of life or -death, was being weighed by all these men. - -The iron-founder did not appear to observe anything unusual. He -advanced, and without lifting his hat said, in the same impertinent -tone: - -"It is after ten o'clock, gentlemen." - -No one answered; and M. de Clameran was about to continue, when, -turning around, he for the first time saw the banker, and walking up -to him said: - -"Well, monsieur, I congratulate myself upon finding you in at last. I -have been here once before this morning, and found the cash-room not -opened, the cashier not arrived, and you absent." - -"You are mistaken, monsieur, I was in my office." - -"At any rate, I was told you were out; that gentleman over there -assured me of the fact." - -And the iron-founder pointed out Cavaillon. - -"However, that is of little importance," he went on to say. "I return, -and this time not only the cash-room is closed, but I am refused -admittance to the banking-house, and find myself compelled to force my -way in. Be so good as to tell me whether I can have my money." - -M. Fauvel's flushed face turned pale with anger as he listened to this -insolence; yet he controlled himself. - -"I would be obliged to you monsieur, for a short delay." - -"I thought you told me--" - -"Yes, yesterday. But this morning, this very instant, I find I have -been robbed of three hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -M. de Clameran bowed ironically, and said: - -"Shall I have to wait long?" - -"Long enough for me to send to the bank." - -Then turning his back on the iron-founder, M. Fauvel said to his -cashier: - -"Write and send as quickly as possible to the bank an order for three -hundred thousand francs. Let the messenger take a carriage." - -Prosper remained motionless. - -"Do you hear me?" said the banker angrily. - -The cashier trembled; he seemed as if trying to shake off a terrible -nightmare. - -"It is useless to send," he said in a measured tone; "we owe this -gentleman three hundred thousand francs, and we have less than one -hundred thousand in the bank." - -M. de Clameran evidently expected this answer, for he muttered: - -"Naturally." - -Although he pronounced this word, his voice, his manner, his face -clearly said: - -"This comedy is well acted; but nevertheless it is a comedy, and I -don't intend to be duped by it." - -Alas! After Prosper's answer, and the iron-founder's coarsely -expressed opinion, the clerks knew not what to think. - -The fact was, that Paris had just been startled by several financial -crashes. The thirst for speculation caused the oldest and most -reliable houses to totter. Men of the most unimpeachable honor had to -sacrifice their pride, and go from door to door imploring aid. - -Credit, that rare bird of security and peace, rested with none, but -stood with upraised wings, ready to fly off at the first rumor of -suspicion. - -Therefore this idea of a comedy arranged beforehand between the banker -and his cashier might readily occur to the minds of people who, if not -suspicious, were at least aware of all the expedients resorted to by -speculators in order to gain time, which with them often meant -salvation. - -M. Fauvel had had too much experience not to instantly divine the -impression produced by Prosper's answer; he read the most mortifying -doubt on the faces around him. - -"Oh! don't be alarmed, monsieur," said he to M. de Clameran, "this -house has other resources. Be kind enough to await my return." - -He left the room, went up the narrow steps leading to his study, and -in a few minutes returned, holding in his hand a letter and a bundle -of securities. - -"Here, quick, Couturier!" he said to one of his clerks, "take my -carriage, which is waiting at the door, and go with monsieur to M. de -Rothschild's. Hand him this letter and these securities; in exchange, -you will receive three hundred thousand francs, which you will hand to -this gentleman." - -The iron-founder was visibly disappointed; he seemed desirous of -apologizing for his impertinence. - -"I assure you, monsieur, that I had no intention of giving offence. -Our relations, for some years, have been such that I hope--" - -"Enough, monsieur," interrupted the banker, "I desire no apologies. In -business, friendship counts for nothing. I owe you money: I am not -ready to pay: you are pressing: you have a perfect right to demand -what is your own. Follow my clerk: he will pay you your money." - -Then he turned to his clerks who stood curiously gazing on, and said: - -"As for you, gentlemen, be kind enough to resume your desks." - -In an instant the room was cleared of everyone except the clerks who -belonged there; and they sat at their desks with their noses almost -touching the paper before them, as if too absorbed in their work to -think of anything else. - -Still excited by the events so rapidly succeeding each other, M. Andre -Fauvel walked up and down the room with quick, nervous steps, -occasionally uttering some low exclamation. - -Prosper remained leaning against the door, with pale face and fixed -eyes, looking as if he had lost the faculty of thinking. - -Finally the banker, after a long silence, stopped short before -Prosper; he had determined upon the line of conduct he would pursue. - -"We must have an explanation," he said. "Let us go into your office." - -The cashier mechanically obeyed without a word; and his chief followed -him, taking the precaution to close the door after him. - -The cash-room bore no evidences of a successful burglary. Everything -was in perfect order; not even a paper was misplaced. - -The safe was open, and on the top shelf lay several rouleaus of gold, -overlooked or disdained by the thieves. - -M. Fauvel, without troubling himself to examine anything, took a seat, -and ordered his cashier to do the same. He had entirely recovered his -equanimity, and his countenance wore its usual kind expression. - -"Now that we are alone, Prosper," he said, "have you nothing to tell -me?" - -The cashier started, as if surprised at the question. "Nothing, -monsieur, that I have not already told you." - -"What, nothing? Do you persist in asserting a fable so absurd and -ridiculous that no one can possibly believe it? It is folly! Confide -in me: it is your only chance of salvation. I am your employer, it is -true; but I am before and above all your friend, your best and truest -friend. I cannot forget that in this very room, fifteen years ago, you -were intrusted to me by your father; and ever since that day have I -had cause to congratulate myself on possessing so faithful and -efficient a clerk. Yes, it is fifteen years since you came to me. I -was then just commencing the foundation of my fortune. You have seen -it gradually grow, step by step, from almost nothing to its present -height. As my wealth increased, I endeavored to better your condition; -you, who, although so young, are the oldest of my clerks. At each -inventory of my fortune, I increased your salary." - -Never had Prosper heard him express himself in so feeling and paternal -a manner. Prosper was silent with astonishment. - -"Answer," pursued M. Fauvel: "have I not always been like a father to -you? From the first day, my house has been open to you; you were -treated as a member of my family; Madeleine and my sons looked upon -you as a brother. But you grew weary of this peaceful life. One day, a -year ago, you suddenly began to shun us; and since then----" - -The memories of the past thus evoked by the banker seemed too much for -the unhappy cashier; he buried his face in his hands, and wept -bitterly. - -"A man can confide everything to his father without fear of being -harshly judged," resumed M. Fauvel. "A father not only pardons, he -forgets. Do I not know the terrible temptations that beset a young man -in a city like Paris? There are some inordinate desires before which -the firmest principles must give way, and which so pervert our moral -sense as to render us incapable of judging between right and wrong. -Speak, Prosper, Speak!" - -"What do you wish me to say?" - -"The truth. When an honorable man yields, in an hour of weakness, to -temptation, his first step toward atonement is confession. Say to me, -Yes, I have been tempted, dazzled: the sight of these piles of gold -turned my brain. I am young: I have passions." - -"I?" murmured Prosper. "I?" - -"Poor boy," said the banker, sadly; "do you think I am ignorant of the -life you have been leading since you left my roof a year ago? Can you -not understand that all your fellow-clerks are jealous of you? that -they do not forgive you for earning twelve thousand francs a year? -Never have you committed a piece of folly without my being immediately -informed of it by an anonymous letter. I could tell the exact number -of nights you have spent at the gaming-table, and the amount of money -you have squandered. Oh, envy has good eyes and a quick ear! I have -great contempt for these cowardly denunciations, but was forced not -only to heed them, but to make inquiries myself. It is only right that -I should know what sort of a life is led by the man to whom I intrust -my fortune and my honor." - -Prosper seemed about to protest against this last speech. - -"Yes, my honor," insisted M. Fauvel, in a voice that a sense of -humiliation rendered still more vibrating: "yes, my credit might have -been compromised to-day by this M. de Clameran. Do you know how much I -shall lose by paying him this money? And suppose I had not had the -securities which I have sacrificed? you did not know I possessed -them." - -The banker paused, as if hoping for a confession, which, however, did -not come. - -"Come, Prosper, have courage, be frank. I will go upstairs. You will -look again in the safe: I am sure that in your agitation you did not -search thoroughly. This evening I will return; and I am confident -that, during the day, you will have found, if not the three hundred -and fifty thousand francs, at least the greater portion of it; and -to-morrow neither you nor I will remember anything about this false -alarm." - -M. Fauvel had risen, and was about to leave the room, when Prosper -arose, and seized him by the arm. - -"Your generosity is useless, monsieur," he said, bitterly; "having -taken nothing, I can restore nothing. I have searched carefully; the -bank-notes have been stolen." - -"But by whom, poor fool? By whom?" - -"By all that is sacred, I swear that it was not by me." - -The banker's face turned crimson. "Miserable wretch!" cried he, "do -you mean to say that I took the money?" - -Prosper bowed his head, and did not answer. - -"Ah! it is thus, then," said M. Fauvel, unable to contain himself any -longer. "And you dare--. Then, between you and me, M. Prosper Bertomy, -justice shall decide. God is my witness that I have done all I could -to save you. You will have yourself to thank for what follows. I have -sent for the commissary of police: he must be waiting in my study. -Shall I call him down?" - -Prosper, with the fearful resignation of a man who abandons himself, -replied, in a stifled voice: - -"Do as you will." - -The banker was near the door, which he opened, and, after giving the -cashier a last searching look, said to an office-boy: - -"Anselme, ask the commissary of police to step down." - - - -III - -If there is one man in the world whom no event can move or surprise, -who is always on his guard against deceptive appearances, and is -capable of admitting everything and explaining everything, it -certainly is a Parisian commissary of police. - -While the judge, from his lofty place, applies the code to the facts -submitted to him, the commissary of police observes and watches all -the odious circumstances that the law cannot reach. He is perforce the -confidant of disgraceful details, domestic crimes, and tolerated -vices. - -If, when he entered upon his office, he had any illusions, before the -end of a year they were all dissipated. - -If he does not absolutely despise the human race, it is because often, -side by side with abominations indulged in with impunity, he discovers -sublime generosities which remain unrewarded. - -He sees impudent scoundrels filching public respect; and he consoles -himself by thinking of the modest, obscure heroes whom he has also -encountered. - -So often have his previsions been deceived, that he has reached a -state of complete scepticism. He believes in nothing, neither in evil -nor in absolute good; not more in virtue than in vice. - -His experience has forced him to come to the sad conclusion that not -men, but events, are worth considering. - -The commissary sent for by M. Fauvel soon made his appearance. - -It was with a calm air, if not one of perfect indifference, that he -entered the office. - -He was followed by a short man dressed in a full suit of black, which -was slightly relieved by a crumpled collar. - -The banker, scarcely bowing to him, said: - -"Doubtless, monsieur, you have been apprised of the painful -circumstance which compels me to have recourse to your assistance?" - -"It is about a robbery, I believe." - -"Yes; an infamous and mysterious robbery committed in this office, -from the safe you see open there, of which my cashier" (he pointed to -Prosper) "alone possesses the key and the word." - -This declaration seemed to arouse the unfortunate cashier from his -dull stupor. - -"Excuse me, monsieur," he said to the commissary in a low tone. "My -chief also has the word and the key." - -"Of course, that is understood." - -The commissary at once drew his own conclusions. - -Evidently these two men accused each other. - -From their own statements, one or the other was guilty. - -One was the head of an important bank: the other was a simple cashier. - -One was the chief: the other was the clerk. - -But the commissary of police was too well skilled in concealing his -impressions to betray his thoughts by any outward sign. Not a muscle -of his face moved. - -But he became more grave, and alternately watched the cashier and M. -Fauvel, as if trying to draw some profitable conclusion from their -behavior. - -Prosper was very pale and dejected. He had dropped into a seat, and -his arms hung inert on either side of the chair. - -The banker, on the contrary, remained standing with flashing eyes and -crimson face, expressing himself with extraordinary violence. - -"And the importance of the theft is immense," continued M. Fauvel; -"they have taken a fortune, three hundred and fifty thousand francs. -This robbery might have had the most disastrous consequences. In times -like these, the want of this sum might compromise the credit of the -wealthiest banking-house in Paris." - -"I believe so, if notes fall due." - -"Well, monsieur, I had this very day a heavy payment to make." - -"Ah, really!" - -There was no mistaking the commissary's tone; a suspicion, the first, -had evidently entered his mind. - -The banker understood it; he started, and said, quickly: - -"I met the demand, but at the cost of a disagreeable sacrifice. I -ought to add further that, if my orders had been obeyed, the three -hundred and fifty thousand francs would not have been in." - -"How is that?" - -"I never desire to have large sums of money in my house over-night. My -cashier had positive orders to wait always until the last moment -before drawing money from the Bank of France. I above all forbade him -to leave money in the safe over-night." - -"You hear this?" said the commissary to Prosper. - -"Yes, monsieur," replied the cashier, "M. Fauvel's statement is quite -correct." - -After this explanation, the suspicions of the commissary, instead of -being strengthened, were dissipated. - -"Well," he said, "a robbery has been perpetrated, but by whom? Did the -robber enter from without?" - -The banker hesitated a moment. - -"I think not," he said at last. - -"And I am certain he did not," said Prosper. - -The commissary expected and was prepared for those answers; but it did -not suit his purpose to follow them up immediately. - -"However," said he, "we must make ourselves sure of it." Turning -toward his companion: - -"M. Fanferlot," he said, "go and see if you cannot discover some -traces that may have escaped the attention of these gentlemen." - -M. Fanferlot, nicknamed the Squirrel, was indebted to his prodigious -agility for this title, of which he was not a little proud. Slim and -insignificant in appearance he might, in spite of his iron muscles, be -taken for a bailiff's under clerk, as he walked along buttoned up to -the chin in his thin black overcoat. He had one of those faces that -impress us disagreeably--an odiously turned-up nose, thin lips, and -little, restless black eyes. - -Fanferlot, who had been on the police force for five years, burned to -distinguish himself, to make for himself a name. He was ambitious. -Alas! he was unsuccessful, lacking opportunity--or genius. - -Already, before the commissary spoke to him, he had ferreted -everywhere; studied the doors, sounded the partitions, examined the -wicket, and stirred up the ashes in the fireplace. - -"I cannot imagine," said he, "how a stranger could have effected an -entrance here." - -He walked around the office. - -"Is this door closed at night?" he inquired. - -"It is always locked." - -"And who keeps the key?" - -"The office-boy, to whom I always give it in charge before leaving the -bank," said Prosper. - -"This boy," said M. Fauvel, "sleeps in the outer room on a sofa- -bedstead, which he unfolds at night, and folds up in the morning." - -"Is he here now?" inquired the commissary. - -"Yes, monsieur," answered the banker. - -He opened the door and called: - -"Anselme!" - -This boy was the favorite servant of M. Fauvel, and had lived with him -for ten years. He knew that he would not be suspected; but the idea of -being connected in any way with a robbery is terrible, and he entered -the room trembling like a leaf. - -"Did you sleep in the next room last night?" asked the commissary. - -"Yes, monsieur, as usual." - -"At what hour did you go to bed?" - -"About half-past ten; I had spent the evening at a cafe near by, with -monsieur's valet." - -"Did you hear no noise during the night?" - -"Not a sound; and still I sleep so lightly, that, if monsieur comes -down to the cash-room when I am asleep, I am instantly awakened by the -sound of his footsteps." - -"Monsieur Fauvel often comes to the cash-room at night, does he?" - -"No, monsieur; very seldom." - -"Did he come last night?" - -"No, monsieur, I am very certain he did not; for I was kept awake -nearly all night by the strong coffee I had drunk with the valet." - -"That will do; you can retire," said the commissary. - -When Anselme had left the room, Fanferlot resumed his search. He -opened the door of the private staircase. - -"Where do these stairs lead to?" he asked. - -"To my private office," replied M. Fauvel. - -"Is not that the room whither I was conducted when I first came?" -inquired the commissary. - -"The same." - -"I would like to see it," said Fanferlot, "and examine the entrances -to it." - -"Nothing is more easy," said M. Fauvel, eagerly; "follow me, -gentlemen, and you come too, Prosper." - -M. Fauvel's private office consisted of two rooms; the waiting-room, -sumptuously furnished and beautifully decorated, and the study where -he transacted business. The furniture in this room was composed of a -large office-desk, several leather-covered chairs, and, on either side -of the fireplace, a secretary and a book-shelf. - -These two rooms had only three doors; one opened on the private -stairway, another into the banker's bedroom, and the third into the -main vestibule. It was through this last door that the banker's -clients and visitors were admitted. - -M. Fanferlot examined the study at a glance. He seemed puzzled, like a -man who had flattered himself with the hope of discovering some -indication, and had found nothing. - -"Let us see the adjoining room," he said. - -He passed into the waiting-room, followed by the banker and the -commissary of police. - -Prosper remained alone in the study. - -Despite the disordered state of his mind, he could not but perceive -that his situation was momentarily becoming more serious. - -He had demanded and accepted the contest with his chief; the struggle -had commenced; and now it no longer depended upon his own will to -arrest the consequences of his action. - -They were about to engage in a bitter conflict, utilizing all weapons, -until one of the two should succumb, the loss of honor being the cost -of defeat. - -In the eyes of justice, who would be the innocent man? - -Alas! the unfortunate cashier saw only too clearly that the chances -were terribly unequal, and was overwhelmed with the sense of his own -inferiority. - -Never had he thought that his chief would carry out his threats; for, -in a contest of this nature, M. Fauvel would have as much to risk as -his cashier, and more to lose. - -He was sitting near the fireplace, absorbed in the most gloomy -forebodings, when the banker's chamber-door suddenly opened, and a -beautiful girl appeared on the threshold. - -She was tall and slender; a loose morning gown, confined at the waist -by a simple black ribbon, betrayed to advantage the graceful elegance -of her figure. Her black eyes were large and soft; her complexion had -the creamy pallor of a white camellia; and her beautiful dark hair, -carelessly held together by a tortoise-shell comb, fell in a profusion -of soft curls upon her exquisite neck. She was Madeleine, M. Fauvel's -niece, of whom he had spoken not long before. - -Seeing Prosper in the study, where probably she expected to find her -uncle alone, she could not refrain from an exclamation of surprise. - -"Ah!" - -Prosper started up as if he had received an electric shock. His eyes, -a moment before so dull and heavy, now sparkled with joy as if he had -caught a glimpse of a messenger of hope. - -"Madeleine," he gasped, "Madeleine!" - -The young girl was blushing crimson. She seemed about to hastily -retreat, and stepped back; but, Prosper having advanced toward her, -she was overcome by a sentiment stronger than her will, and extended -her hand, which he seized and pressed with much agitation. - -They stood thus face to face, but with averted looks, as if they dared -not let their eyes meet for fear of betraying their feelings; having -much to say, and not knowing how to begin, they stood silent. - -Finally Madeleine murmured, in a scarcely audible voice: - -"You, Prosper--you!" - -These words broke the spell. The cashier dropped the white hand which -he held, and answered bitterly: - -"Yes, this is Prosper, the companion of your childhood, suspected, -accused of the most disgraceful theft; Prosper, whom your uncle has -just delivered up to justice, and who, before the day is over, will be -arrested, and thrown into prison." - -Madeleine, with a terrified gesture, cried in a tone of anguish: - -"Good heavens! Prosper, what are you saying?" - -"What, mademoiselle! do you not know what has happened? Have not your -aunt and cousins told you?" - -"They have told me nothing. I have scarcely seen my cousins this -morning; and my aunt is so ill that I felt uneasy, and came to tell -uncle. But for Heaven's sake speak: tell me the cause of your -distress." - -Prosper hesitated. Perhaps it occurred to him to open his heart to -Madeleine, of revealing to her his most secret thoughts. A remembrance -of the past chilled his confidence. He sadly shook his head, and -replied: - -"Thanks, mademoiselle, for this proof of interest, the last, -doubtless, that I shall ever receive from you; but allow me, by being -silent, to spare you distress, and myself the mortification of -blushing before you." - -Madeleine interrupted him imperiously: - -"I insist upon knowing." - -"Alas, mademoiselle!" answered Prosper, "you will only too soon learn -my misfortune and disgrace; then, yes, then you will applaud yourself -for what you have done." - -She became more urgent; instead of commanding, she entreated; but -Prosper was inflexible. - -"Your uncle is in the adjoining room, mademoiselle, with the -commissary of police and a detective. They will soon return. I entreat -you to retire that they may not find you here." - -As he spoke he gently pushed her through the door, and closed it upon -her. - -It was time, for the next moment the commissary and Monsieur Fauvel -entered. They had visited the main entrance and waiting-room, and had -heard nothing of what had passed in the study. - -But Fanferlot had heard for them. - -This excellent bloodhound had not lost sight of the cashier. He said -to himself, "Now that my young gentleman believes himself to be alone, -his face will betray him. I shall detect a smile or a wink that will -enlighten me." - -Leaving M. Fauvel and the commissary to pursue their investigations, -he posted himself to watch. He saw the door open, and Madeleine appear -upon the threshold; he lost not a single word or gesture of the rapid -scene which had passed. - -It mattered little that every word of this scene was an enigma. M. -Fanferlot was skilful enough to complete the sentences he did not -understand. - -As yet he only had a suspicion; but a mere suspicion is better than -nothing; it is a point to start from. So prompt was he in building a -plan upon the slightest incident that he thought he saw in the past of -these people, who were utter strangers to him, glimpses of a domestic -drama. - -If the commissary of police is a sceptic, the detective has faith; he -believes in evil. - -"I understand the case now," said he to himself. "This man loves the -young lady, who is really very pretty; and, as he is quite handsome, I -suppose his love is reciprocated. This love-affair vexes the banker, -who, not knowing how to get rid of the importunate lover by fair -means, has to resort to foul, and plans this imaginary robbery, which -is very ingenious." - -Thus to M. Fanferlot's mind, the banker had simply robbed himself, and -the innocent cashier was the victim of an odious machination. - -But this conviction was, at present, of little service to Prosper. - -Fanferlot, the ambitious, who had determined to obtain renown in his -profession, decided to keep his conjectures to himself. - -"I will let the others go their way, and I'll go mine," he said. -"When, by dint of close watching and patient investigation I shall -have collected proof sufficient to insure certain conviction, I will -unmask the scoundrel." - -He was radiant. He had at last found the crime, so long looked for, -which would make him celebrated. Nothing was wanting, neither the -odious circumstances, nor the mystery, nor even the romantic and -sentimental element represented by Prosper and Madeleine. - -Success seemed difficult, almost impossible; but Fanferlot, the -Squirrel, had great confidence in his own genius for investigation. - -Meanwhile, the search upstairs completed, M. Fauvel and the commissary -returned to the room where Prosper was waiting for them. - -The commissary, who had seemed so calm when he first came, now looked -grave and perplexed. The moment for taking a decisive part had come, -yet it was evident that he hesitated. - -"You see, gentlemen," he began, "our search has only confirmed our -first suspicion." - -M. Fauvel and Prosper bowed assentingly. - -"And what do you think, M. Fanferlot?" continued the commissary. - -Fanferlot did not answer. - -Occupied in studying the safe-lock, he manifested signs of a lively -surprise. Evidently he had just made an important discovery. - -M. Fauvel, Prosper, and the commissary rose, and surrounded him. - -"Have you discovered any trace?" said the banker, eagerly. - -Fanferlot turned around with a vexed air. He reproached himself for -not having concealed his impressions. - -"Oh!" said he, carelessly, "I have discovered nothing of importance." - -"But we should like to know," said Prosper. - -"I have merely convinced myself that this safe has been recently -opened or shut, I know not which, with great violence and haste." - -"Why so?" asked the commissary, becoming attentive. - -"Look, monsieur, at this scratch near the lock." - -The commissary stooped down, and carefully examined the safe; he saw a -light scratch several inches long that had removed the outer coat of -varnish. - -"I see the scratch," said he, "but what does that prove?" - -"Oh, nothing at all!" said Fanferlot. "I just now told you it was of -no importance." - -Fanferlot said this, but it was not his real opinion. - -This scratch, undeniably fresh, had for him a signification that -escaped the others. He said to himself, "This confirms my suspicions. -If the cashier had stolen millions, there was no occasion for his -being in a hurry; whereas the banker, creeping down in the dead of -night with cat-like footsteps, for fear of awakening the boy in the -ante-room, in order to rifle his own money-safe, had every reason to -tremble, to hurry, to hastily withdraw the key, which, slipping along -the lock, scratched off the varnish." - -Resolved to unravel by himself the tangled thread of this mystery, the -detective determined to keep his conjectures to himself; for the same -reason he was silent as to the interview which he had overheard -between Madeleine and Prosper. - -He hastened to withdraw attention from the scratch upon the lock. - -"To conclude," he said, addressing the commissary, "I am convinced -that no one outside of the bank could have obtained access to this -room. The safe, moreover, is intact. No suspicious pressure has been -used on the movable buttons. I can assert that the lock has not been -tampered with by burglar's tools or false keys. Those who opened the -safe knew the word, and possessed the key." - -This formal affirmation of a man whom he knew to be skilful ended the -hesitation of the commissary. - -"That being the case, he replied, "I must request a few moments' -conversation with M. Fauvel." - -"I am at your service," said the banker. - -Prosper foresaw the result of this conversation. He quietly placed his -hat on the table, to show that he had no intention of attempting to -escape, and passed into the adjoining room. - -Fanferlot also went out, but not before the commissary had made him a -sign, and received one in return. - -This sign signified, "You are responsible for this man." - -The detective needed no admonition to make him keep a strict watch. -His suspicions were too vague, his desire for success was too ardent, -for him to lose sight of Prosper an instant. - -Closely following the cashier, he seated himself in a dark corner of -the room, and, pretending to be sleepy, he fixed himself in a -comfortable position for taking a nap, gaped until his jaw-bone seemed -about to be dislocated, then closed his eyes, and kept perfectly -quiet. - -Prosper took a seat at the desk of an absent clerk. The others were -burning to know the result of the investigation; their eyes shone with -curiosity, but they dared not ask a question. - -Unable to refrain himself any longer, little Cavaillon, Prosper's -defender, ventured to say: - -"Well, who stole the money?" - -Prosper shrugged his shoulders. - -"Nobody knows," he replied. - -Was this conscious innocence or hardened recklessness? The clerks -observed with bewildered surprise that Prosper had resumed his usual -manner, that sort of icy haughtiness that kept people at a distance, -and made him so unpopular in the bank. - -Save the death-like pallor of his face, and the dark circles around -his swollen eyes, he bore no traces of the pitiable agitation he had -exhibited a short time before. - -Never would a stranger entering the room have supposed that this young -man idly lounging in a chair, and toying with a pencil, was resting -under an accusation of robbery, and was about to be arrested. - -He soon stopped playing with the pencil, and drew toward him a sheet -of paper upon which he hastily wrote a few lines. - -"Ah, ha!" thought Fanferlot the Squirrel, whose hearing and sight were -wonderfully good in spite of his profound sleep, "eh! eh! he makes his -little confidential communication on paper, I see; now we will -discover something positive." - -His note written, Prosper folded it carefully into the smallest -possible size, and after furtively glancing toward the detective, who -remained motionless in his corner, threw it across the desk to little -Cavaillon with this one word: - -"Gypsy!" - -All this was so quickly and skilfully done that Fanferlot was -confounded, and began to feel a little uneasy. - -"The devil take him!" said he to himself; "for a suffering innocent -this young dandy has more pluck and nerve than many of my oldest -customers. This, however, shows the result of education!" - -Yes: innocent or guilty, Prosper must have been endowed with great -self-control and power of dissimulation to affect this presence of -mind at a time when his honor, his future happiness, all that he held -dear in life, were at stake. And he was only thirty years old. - -Either from natural deference, or from the hope of gaining some ray of -light by a private conversation, the commissary determined to speak to -the banker before acting decisively. - -"There is not a shadow of doubt, monsieur," he said, as soon as they -were alone, "this young man has robbed you. It would be a gross -neglect of duty if I did not secure his person. The law will decide -whether he shall be released, or sent to prison." - -The declaration seemed to distress the banker. - -He sank into a chair, and murmured: - -"Poor Prosper!" - -Seeing the astonished look of his listener, he added: - -"Until to-day, monsieur, I have always had the most implicit faith in -his honesty, and would have unhesitatingly confided my fortune to his -keeping. Almost on my knees have I besought and implored him to -confess that in a moment of desperation he had taken the money, -promising him pardon and forgetfulness; but I could not move him. I -have loved him; and even now, in spite of the trouble and humiliation -that he is bringing upon me, I cannot bring myself to feel harshly -toward him." - -The commissary looked as if he did not understand. - -"What do you mean by humiliation, monsieur?" - -"What!" said M. Fauvel, excitedly; "is not justice the same for all? -Because I am the head of a bank, and he only a clerk, does it follow -that my word is more to be relied upon than his? Why could I not have -robbed myself? Such things have been done. They will ask me for facts; -and I shall be compelled to expose the exact situation of my house, -explain my affairs, disclose the secret and method of my operations." - -"It is true, monsieur, that you will be called upon for some -explanation; but your well-known integrity--" - -"Alas! He was honest, too. His integrity has never been doubted. Who -would have been suspected this morning if I had not been able to -instantly produce a hundred thousand crowns? Who would be suspected if -I could not prove that my assets exceed my liabilities by more than -three millions?" - -To a strictly honorable man, the thought, the possibility of suspicion -tarnishing his fair name, is cruel suffering. The banker suffered, and -the commissary of police saw it, and felt for him. - -"Be calm, monsieur," said he; "before the end of a week justice will -have collected sufficient proof to establish the guilt of this -unfortunate man, whom we may now recall." - -Prosper entered with Fanferlot, whom they had much trouble to awaken, -and with the most stolid indifference listened to the announcement of -his arrest. - -In response, he calmly said: - -"I swear that I am innocent." - -M. Fauvel, much more disturbed and excited than his cashier, made a -last attempt. - -"It is not too late yet, poor boy," he said: "for Heaven's sake -reflect----" - -Prosper did not appear to hear him. He drew from his pocket a small -key, which he laid on the table, and said: - -"Here is the key of your safe, monsieur. I hope for my sake that you -will some day be convinced of my innocence; and I hope for your sake -that the conviction will not come too late." - -Then, as everyone was silent, he resumed: - -"Before leaving I hand over to you the books, papers, and accounts -necessary for my successor. I must at the same time inform you that, -without speaking of the stolen three hundred and fifty thousand -francs, I leave a deficit in cash." - -"A deficit!" This ominous word from the lips of a cashier fell like a -bombshell upon the ears of Prosper's hearers. - -His declaration was interpreted in divers ways. - -"A deficit!" thought the commissary: "how, after this, can his guilt -be doubted? Before stealing this whole contents of the safe, he has -kept his hand in by occasional small thefts." - -"A deficit!" said the detective to himself, "now, no doubt, the very -innocence of this poor devil gives his conduct an appearance of great -depravity; were he guilty, he would have replaced the first money by a -portion of the second." - -The grave importance of Prosper's statement was considerably -diminished by the explanation he proceeded to make. - -"There is a deficit of three thousand five hundred francs on my cash -account, which has been disposed of in the following manner: two -thousand taken by myself in advance on my salary; fifteen hundred -advanced to several of my fellow-clerks. This is the last day of the -month; to-morrow the salaries will be paid, consequently--" - -The commissary interrupted him: - -"Were you authorized to draw money whenever you wished to advance the -clerks' pay?" - -"No; but I knew that M. Fauvel would not have refused me permission to -oblige my friends in the bank. What I did is done everywhere; I have -simply followed my predecessor's example." - -The banker made a sign of assent. - -"As regards that spent by myself," continued the cashier, "I had a -sort of right to it, all of my savings being deposited in this bank; -about fifteen thousand francs." - -"That is true," said M. Fauvel; "M. Bertomy has at least that amount -on deposit." - -This last question settled, the commissary's errand was over, and his -report might now be made. He announced his intention of leaving, and -ordered to cashier to prepare to follow him. - -Usually, this moment when stern reality stares us in the face, when -our individuality is lost and we feel that we are being deprived of -our liberty, this moment is terrible. - -At this fatal command, "Follow me," which brings before our eyes the -yawning prison gates, the most hardened sinner feels his courage fail, -and abjectly begs for mercy. - -But Prosper lost none of that studied phlegm which the commissary of -police secretly pronounced consummate impudence. - -Slowly, with as much careless ease as if going to breakfast with a -friend, he smoothed his hair, drew on his overcoat and gloves, and -said, politely: - -"I am ready to accompany you, monsieur." - -The commissary folded up his pocket-book, and bowed to M. Fauvel, -saying to Prosper: - -"Come!" - -They left the room, and with a distressed face, and eyes filled with -tears that he could not restrain, the banker stood watching their -retreating forms. - -"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed: "gladly would I give twice that sum to -regain my old confidence in poor Prosper, and be able to keep him with -me!" - -The quick-eared Fanferlot overheard these words, and prompted to -suspicion, and ever disposed to impute to others the deep astuteness -peculiar to himself, was convinced they had been uttered for his -benefit. - -He had remained behind the others under pretext of looking for an -imaginary umbrella, and, as he reluctantly departed, said he would -call in again to see if it had been found. - -It was Fanferlot's task to escort Prosper to prison; but, as they were -about starting, he asked the commissary to leave him at liberty to -pursue another course, a request which his superior granted. - -Fanferlot had resolved to obtain possession of Prosper's note, which -he knew to be in Cavaillon's pocket. - -To obtain this written proof, which must be an important one, appeared -the easiest thing in the world. He had simply to arrest Cavaillon, -frighten him, demand the letter, and, if necessary, take it by force. - -But to what would this disturbance lead? To nothing unless it were an -incomplete and doubtful result. - -Fanferlot was convinced that the note was intended, not for the young -clerk, but for a third person. - -If exasperated, Cavaillon might refuse to divulge who this person was, -who after all might not bear the name "Gypsy" given by the cashier. -And, even if he did answer his questions, would he not lie? - -After a mature reflection, Fanferlot decided that it would be -superfluous to ask for a secret when it could be surprised. To quietly -follow Cavaillon, and keep close watch on him until he caught him in -the very act of handing over the letter, was but play for the -detective. - -This method of proceeding, moreover, was much more in keeping with the -character of Fanferlot, who, being naturally soft and stealthy, deemed -it due to his profession to avoid all disturbance or anything -resembling evidence. - -Fanferlot's plan was settled when he reached the vestibule. - -He began talking with an office-boy, and, after a few apparently idle -questions, had discovered that the Fauvel bank had no outlet on the -Rue de la Victoire, and that consequently all the clerks were obliged -to pass in and out through the main entrance on the Rue de Provence. - -From this moment the task he had undertaken no longer presented a -shadow of difficulty. He rapidly crossed the street, and took up his -position under a gateway. - -His post of observation was admirably chosen; not only could he see -everyone who entered and came out of the bank, but also commanded a -view of all the windows, and by standing on tiptoe could look through -the grating, and see Cavaillon bending over his desk. - -Fanferlot waited a long time, but did not wax impatient, for he had -often had to remain on watch entire days and nights at a time, with -much less important objects in view than the present one. Besides, his -mind was busily occupied in estimating the value of his discoveries, -weighing his chances, and, like Perrette with her pot of milk, -building the foundation of his fortune upon present success. - -Finally, about one o'clock, he saw Cavaillon rise from his desk, -change his coat, and take down his hat. - -"Very good!" he exclaimed, "my man is coming out; I must keep my eyes -open." - -The next moment Cavaillon appeared at the door of the bank; but before -stepping on the pavement he looked up and down the street in an -undecided manner. - -"Can he suspect anything?" thought Fanferlot. - -No, the young clerk suspected nothing; only having a commission to -execute, and fearing his absence would be observed, he was debating -with himself which would be the shortest road for him to take. - -He soon decided, entered the Faubourg Montmartre, and walked up the -Rue Notre Dame de Lorette so rapidly, utterly regardless of the -grumbling passers-by whom he elbowed out of his way, that Fanferlot -found it difficult to keep him in sight. - -Reaching the Rue Chaptal, Cavaillon suddenly stopped, and entered the -house numbered 39. - -He had scarcely taken three steps in the narrow corridor when he felt -a touch on his shoulder, and turning abruptly, found himself face to -face with Fanferlot. - -He recognized him at once, and turning very pale he shrank back, and -looked around for means of escape. - -But the detective, anticipating the attempt, barred the passage-way. -Cavaillon saw that he was fairly caught. - -"What do you want with me?" he asked in a voice tremulous with fright. - -Fanferlot was distinguished among his confreres for his exquisite -suavity and unequalled urbanity. Even with his prisoners he was the -perfection of courtesy, and never was known to handcuff a man without -first obsequiously apologizing for being compelled to do so. - -"You will be kind enough, my dear monsieur," he said, "to excuse the -great liberty I take; but I really am under the necessity of asking -you for a little information." - -"Information! From me, monsieur?" - -"From you, my dear monsieur; from M. Eugene Cavaillon." - -"But I do not know you." - -"Ah, yes; you remember seeing me this morning. It is only about a -trifling matter, and you will overwhelm me with obligations if you -will do me the honor to accept my arm, and step outside for a moment." - -What could Cavaillon do? He took Fanferlot's arm, and went out with -him. - -The Rue Chaptal is not one of those noisy thoroughfares where foot- -passengers are in perpetual danger of being run over by numberless -vehicles dashing to and fro; there were but two or three shops, and -from the corner of Rue Fontaine occupied by an apothecary, to the -entrance of the Rue Leonie, extended a high, gloomy wall, broken here -and there by a small window which lighted the carpenters' shops -behind. - -It was one of those streets where you could talk at your ease, without -having to step from the sidewalk every moment. So Fanferlot and -Cavaillon were in no danger of being disturbed by passers-by. - -"What I wished to say is, my dear monsieur," began the detective, -"that M. Prosper Bertomy threw you a note this morning." - -Cavaillon vaguely foresaw that he was to be questioned about this -note, and instantly put himself on his guard. - -"You are mistaken," he said, blushing to his ears. - -"Excuse me, monsieur, for presuming to contradict you, but I am quite -certain of what I say." - -"I assure you that Prosper never gave me anything." - -"Pray, monsieur, do not persist in a denial; you will compel me to -prove that four clerks saw him throw you a note written in pencil and -closely folded." - -Cavaillon saw the folly of further contradicting a man so well -informed; so he changed his tactics, and said: - -"It is true Prosper gave me a note this morning; but it was intended -for me alone, and after reading it I tore it up, and threw the pieces -in the fire." - -This might be the truth. Fanferlot feared so; but how could he assure -himself of the fact? He remembered that the most palpable tricks often -succeed the best, and trusting to his star, he said at hazard: - -"Permit me to observe that this statement is not correct; the note was -intrusted to you to give to Gypsy." - -A despairing gesture from Cavaillon apprised the detective that he was -not mistaken; he breathed again. - -"I swear to you, monsieur," began the young man. - -"Do not swear, monsieur," interrupted Fanferlot; "all the oaths in the -world would be useless. You not only preserved the note, but you came -to this house for the purpose of giving it to Gypsy, and it is in your -pocket now." - -"No, monsieur, no!" - -Fanferlot paid no attention to this denial, but continued in his -gentlest tone: - -"And I am sure you will be kind enough to give it to me; believe me, -nothing but the most absolute necessity--" - -"Never!" exclaimed Cavaillon; and, believing the moment favorable, he -suddenly attempted to jerk his arm from under Fanferlot's, and escape. - -But his efforts were vain; the detective's strength was equal to his -suavity. - -"Don't hurt yourself, young man," he said, "but take my advice, and -quietly give up the letter." - -"I have not got it." - -"Very well; see, you reduce me to painful extremities. If you persist -in being so obstinate, I shall call two policemen, who will take you -by each arm, and escort you to the commissary of police; and, once -there, I shall be under the painful necessity of searching your -pockets, whether you will or not." - -Cavaillon was devoted to Prosper, and willing to make any sacrifice in -his behalf; but he clearly saw that it was worse than useless to -struggle any longer, as he would have no time to destroy the note. To -deliver it under force was no betrayal; but he cursed his -powerlessness, and almost wept with rage. - -"I am in your power," he said, and then suddenly drew from his pocket- -book the unlucky note, and gave it to the detective. - -Fanferlot trembled with pleasure as he unfolded the paper; yet, -faithful to his habits of fastidious politeness, before reading it, he -bowed to Cavaillon, and said: - -"You will permit me, will you not, monsieur?" Then he read as follows: - - - "DEAR NINA--If you love me, follow my instructions instantly, - without a moment's hesitation, without asking any questions. On - the receipt of this note, take everything you have in the house, - absolutely everything, and establish yourself in furnished rooms - at the other end of Paris. Do not appear in public, but conceal - yourself as much as possible. My life may depend on your - obedience. - - "I am accused of an immense robbery, and am about to be arrested. - Take with you five hundred francs which you will find in the - secretary. - - "Leave your address with Cavaillon, who will explain what I have - not time to tell. Be hopeful, whatever happens. Good-by. PROSPER." - - -Had Cavaillon been less bewildered, he would have seen blank -disappointment depicted on the detective's face after the perusal of -the note. - -Fanferlot had cherished the hope that he was about to possess a very -important document, which would clearly prove the guilt or innocence -of Prosper; whereas he had only seized a love-letter written by a man -who was evidently more anxious about the welfare of the woman he loved -than about his own. - -Vainly did he puzzle over the letter, hoping to discover some hidden -meaning; twist the words as he would, they proved nothing for or -against the writer. - -The two words "absolutely everything" were underscored, it is true; -but they could be interpreted in so many ways. - -The detective, however, determined not to drop the matter here. - -"This Mme. Nina Gypsy is doubtless a friend of M. Prosper Bertomy?" - -"She is his particular friend." - -"Ah, I understand; and she lives here at No. 39?" - -"You know it well enough, as you saw me go in there." - -"I suspected it to be the house, monsieur; now tell me whether the -apartments she occupies are rented in her name." - -"No. Prosper rents them." - -"Exactly; and on which floor, if you please?" - -"On the first." - -During this colloquy, Fanferlot had folded up the note, and slipped it -into his pocket. - -"A thousand thanks, monsieur, for the information; and, in return, I -will relieve you of the trouble of executing your commission." - -"Monsieur!" - -"Yes: with your permission, I will myself take this note to Mme. Nina -Gypsy." - -Cavaillon began to remonstrate; but Fanferlot cut him short by saying: - -"I will also venture to give you a piece of advice. Return quietly to -your business, and have nothing more to do with this affair." - -"But Prosper is a good friend of mine, and has saved me from ruin more -than once." - -"Only the more reason for your keeping quiet. You cannot be of the -slightest assistance to him, and I can tell you that you may be of -great injury. As you are known to be his devoted friend, of course -your absence at this time will be remarked upon. Any steps that you -take in this matter will receive the worst interpretation." - -"Prosper is innocent, I am sure." - -Fanferlot was of the same opinion, but he had no idea of betraying his -private thoughts; and yet for the success of his investigations it was -necessary to impress the importance of prudence and discretion upon -the young man. He would have told him to keep silent concerning what -had passed between them, but he dared not. - -"What you say may be true," he said. "I hope it is, for the sake of M. -Bertomy, and on your own account too; for, if he is guilty, you will -certainly be very much annoyed, and perhaps suspected of complicity, -as you are well known to be intimate with him." - -Cavaillon was overcome. - -"Now you had best take my advice, monsieur, and return to your -business, and--. Good-morning, monsieur." - -The poor fellow obeyed. Slowly and with swelling heart he returned to -the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette. He asked himself how he could serve -Prosper, warn Mme. Gypsy, and, above all, have his revenge upon this -odious detective, who had just made him suffer cruel humiliation. - -He had no sooner turned the corner of the street, than Fanferlot -entered No. 39, gave his name to the porter as Prosper Bertomy, went -upstairs, and knocked at the first door he came to. - -It was opened by a youthful footman, dressed in the most fanciful -livery. - -"Is Mme. Gypsy at home?" - -The groom hesitated; seeing this, Fanferlot showed his note, and said: - -"M. Prosper told me to hand this note to madame, and wait for an -answer." - -"Walk in, and I will let madame know you are here." - -The name of Prosper produced its effect. Fanferlot was ushered into a -little room furnished in blue and gold silk damask. Heavy curtains -darkened the windows, and hung in front of the doors. The floor was -covered with a blue velvet carpet. - -"Our cashier was certainly well lodged," murmured the detective. - -But he had no time to purse his inventory. One of the door-curtains -was pushed aside, and Mme. Nina Gypsy stood before him. - -Mme. Gypsy was quite young, small, and graceful, with a brown or -rather gold-colored quadroon complexion, with the hands and feet of a -child. - -Long curling silk lashes softened the piercing brilliancy of her large -black eyes; her lips were full, and her teeth were very white. - -She had not yet made her toilet, but wore a velvet dressing-wrapper, -which did not conceal the lace ruffles beneath. But she had already -been under the hands of a hairdresser. - -Her hair was curled and frizzed high on her forehead, and confined by -narrow bands of red velvet; her back hair was rolled in an immense -coil, and held by a beautiful gold comb. - -She was ravishing. Her beauty was so startling that the dazzled -detective was speechless with admiration. - -"Well," he said to himself, as he remembered the noble, severe beauty -of Madeleine, whom he had seen a few hours previous, "our young -gentleman certainly has good taste--very good taste--two perfect -beauties!" - -While he thus reflected, perfectly bewildered, and wondering how he -could begin the conversation, Mme. Gypsy eyed him with the most -disdainful surprise; she was waiting for this shabby little man in a -threadbare coat and greasy hat to explain his presence in her dainty -parlor. - -She had many creditors, and was recalling them, and wondering which -one had dared send this man to wipe his dusty boots on her velvet -carpets. - -After scrutinizing him from head to foot with undisguised contempt, -she said, haughtily: - -"What do you want?" - -Anyone but Fanferlot would have been offended at her insolent manner; -but he only noticed it to gain some notion of the young woman's -disposition. - -"She is bad-tempered," he thought, "and is uneducated." - -While he was speculating upon her merits, Mme. Nina impatiently tapped -her little foot, and waited for an answer; finally she said: - -"Why don't you speak? What do you want here?" - -"I am charged, my dear madame," he answered in his softest tone, "by -M. Bertomy, to give you this note." - -"From Prosper! You know him, then?" - -"I have that honor, madame; indeed, I may be so bold as to claim him -as a friend." - -"Monsieur! /You/ a friend of Prosper!" exclaimed Mme. Gypsy in a -scornful tone, as if her pride were wounded. - -Fanferlot did not condescend to notice this offensive exclamation. He -was ambitious, and contempt failed to irritate him. - -"I said a friend of his, madame, and there are few people who would -have the courage to claim friendship for him now." - -Mme. Gypsy was struck by the words and manner of Fanferlot. - -"I never could guess riddles," she said, tartly: "will you be kind -enough to explain what you mean?" - -The detective slowly drew Prosper's note from his pocket, and, with a -bow, presented it to Mme. Gypsy. - -"Read, madame," he said. - -She certainly anticipated no misfortune; although her sight was -excellent, she stopped to fasten a tiny gold eyeglass on her nose, -then carelessly opened the note. - -At a glance she read its contents. - -She turned very red, then very pale; she trembled as if with a nervous -chill; her limbs seemed to give way, and she tottered so that -Fanferlot, thinking she was about to fall, extended his arms to catch -her. - -Useless precaution! Mme. Gypsy was one of those women whose inert -listlessness conceals indomitable energy; fragile-looking creatures -whose powers of endurance and resistance are unlimited; cat-like in -their soft grace and delicacy, especially cat-like in their nerves and -muscles of steel. - -The dizziness caused by the shock she had received quickly passed off. -She tottered, but did not fall, and stood up looking stronger than -ever; seizing the wrist of the detective, she held it as if her -delicate little hand were a vice, and cried out: - -"Explain yourself! what does all this mean? Do you know anything about -the contents of this note?" - -Although Fanferlot betrayed courage in daily contending with the most -dangerous rascals, he was positively terrified by Mme. Gypsy. - -"Alas!" he murmured. - -"Prosper is to be arrested, accused of being a thief?" - -"Yes, madame, he is accused of taking three hundred and fifty thousand -francs from the bank-safe." - -"It is false, infamous, absurd!" she cried. She had dropped -Fanferlot's hand; and her fury, like that of a spoiled child, found -vent in violent actions. She tore her web-like handkerchief, and the -magnificent lace on her gown, to shreds. - -"Prosper steal!" she cried; "what a stupid idea! Why should he steal? -Is he not rich?" - -"M. Bertomy is not rich, madame; he has nothing but his salary." - -The answer seemed to confound Mme. Gypsy. - -"But," she insisted, "I have always seen him have plenty of money; not -rich--then----" - -She dared not finish; but her eye met Fanferlot's, and they understood -each other. - -Mme. Nina's look meant: - -"He committed this robbery in order to gratify my extravagant whims." - -Fanferlot's glance answered: - -"Very likely, madame." - -A few minutes' reflection convinced Nina that her first impression was -the correct one. Doubt fled after hovering for an instant over her -agitated mind. - -"No!" she cried, "I regret to say that Prosper would never have stolen -one cent for me. One can understand a man robbing a bank to obtain -means of bestowing pleasure and luxury upon the woman he loves; but -Prosper does not love me, he never has loved me." - -"Oh, fair lady!" protested the gallant and insinuating Fanferlot, "you -surely cannot mean what you say." - -Her beautiful eyes filled with tears, as she sadly shook her head, and -said: - -"I mean exactly what I say. It is only too true. He is ready to -gratify my every wish, you may say; what does that prove? Nothing. I -am too well convinced that he does not love me. I know what love is. -Once I was beloved by an affectionate, true-hearted man; and my own -sufferings of the last year make me know how miserable I must have -made him by my cold return. Alas! we must suffer ourselves before we -can feel for others. No, I am nothing to Prosper; he would not care -if--" - -"But then, madame, why--" - -"Ah, yes," interrupted Nina, "why? you will be very wise if you can -answer me. For a year have I vainly sought an answer to this question, -so sad to me. I, a woman, cannot answer it; and I defy you to do so. -You cannot discover the thoughts of a man so thoroughly master of -himself that never is a single thought passing in his mind to be -detected upon his countenance. I have watched him as only a woman can -watch the man upon whom her fate depends, but it has always been in -vain. He is kind and indulgent; but he does not betray himself, never -will he commit himself. Ignorant people call him weak, yielding: I -tell you that fair-haired man is a rod of iron painted like a reed!" - -Carried away by the violence of her feelings, Mme. Nina betrayed her -inmost thoughts. She was without distrust, never suspecting that the -stranger listening to her was other than a friend of Prosper. - -As for Fanferlot, he congratulated himself upon his success. No one -but a woman could have drawn him so excellent a portrait; in a moment -of excitement she had given him the most valuable information; he now -knew the nature of the man with whom he had to deal, which in an -investigation like that he was pursuing is the principal point. - -"You know that M. Bertomy gambles," he ventured to say, "and gambling -is apt to lead a man--" - -Mme. Gypsy shrugged her shoulders, and interrupted him: - -"Yes, he plays," she said, "but he is not a gambler. I have seen him -lose and gain large sums without betraying the slightest agitation. He -plays as he drinks, as he sups, as he falls in love--without passion, -without enthusiasm, without pleasure. Sometimes he frightens me; he -seems to drag about a body without a soul. Ah, I am not happy! Never -have I been able to overcome his indifference, and indifference so -great, so reckless, that I often think it must be despair; nothing -will convince me that he has not some terrible secret, some great -misfortune weighing upon his mind, and making life a burden." - -"Then he has never spoken to you of his past?" - -"Why should he tell me? Did you not hear me? I tell you he does not -love me!" - -Mme. Nina was overcome by thoughts of the past, and tears silently -coursed down her cheeks. - -But her despair was only momentary. She started up, and, her eyes -sparkling with generous resolution, she cried out: - -"But I love him, and I will save him! I will see his chief, the -miserable wretch who dares to accuse him. I will haunt the judges, and -I will prove that he is innocent. Come, monsieur, let us start, and I -promise you that before sunset he shall be free, or I shall be in -prison with him." - -Mme. Gypsy's project was certainly laudable, and prompted by the -noblest sentiments; but unfortunately it was impracticable. - -Moreover, it would be going counter to the plans of the detective. - -Although he had resolved to reserve to himself all the difficulties as -well as the benefits of this inquiry, Fanferlot saw clearly that he -could not conceal the existence of Mme. Nina from the judge of -instruction. She would necessarily be brought into the case, and -sought for. But he did not wish her to take any steps of her own -accord. He proposed to have her appear when and how he judged proper, -so that he might gain for himself the merit of having discovered her. - -His first step was to endeavor to calm the young woman's excitement. -He thought it easy to prove to her that the least interference in -favor of Prosper would be a piece of folly. - -"What will you gain by acting thus, my dear madame?" he asked. -"Nothing. I can assure you that you have not the least chance of -success. Remember that you will seriously compromise yourself. Who -knows if you will not be suspected as M. Bertomy's accomplice?" - -But this alarming perspective, which had frightened Cavaillon into -foolishly giving up a letter which he might so easily have retained, -only stimulated Gypsy's enthusiasm. Man calculates, while woman -follows the inspirations of her heart. Our most devoted friend, if a -man, hesitates and draws back: if a woman, rushes undauntedly forward, -regardless of the danger. - -"What matters the risk?" she exclaimed. "I don't believe any danger -exists; but, if it does, so much the better: it will be all the more -to my credit. I am sure Prosper is innocent; but, if he should be -guilty, I wish to share the punishment which awaits him." - -Mme. Gypsy's persistence was becoming alarming. She hastily drew -around her a cashmere shawl, and, putting on her hat, declared that -she was ready to walk from one end of Paris to the other, in search of -the judge. - -"Come, monsieur," she said with feverish impatience. "Are you not -coming with me?" - -Fanferlot was perplexed. Happily he always had several strings to his -bow. - -Personal considerations having no hold upon this impulsive nature, he -resolved to appeal to her interest in Prosper. - -"I am at your command, fair lady," he said; "let us go if you desire -it; only permit me, while there is yet time, to say that we are very -probably going to do great injury to M. Bertomy." - -"In what way, if you please?" - -"Because we are taking a step that he expressly forbade in his letter; -we are surprising him--giving him no warning." - -Nina scornfully tossed her head, and replied: - -"There are some people who must be saved without warning, and against -their will. I know Prosper: he is just the man to let himself be -murdered without a struggle, without speaking a word--to give himself -up through sheer recklessness and despair." - -"Excuse me, madame," interrupted the detective: "M. Bertomy has by no -means the appearance of a man who has given up in despair. On the -contrary, I think he has already laid his plan of defence. By showing -yourself, when he advised you to remain in concealment, you will be -very likely to make vain his most careful precautions." - -Mme. Gypsy was silently weighing the value of Fanferlot's objections. -Finally she said: - -"I cannot remain here inactive, without attempting to contribute in -some way to his safety. Can you not understand that this floor burns -my feet?" - -Evidently, if she was not absolutely convinced, her resolution was -shaken. Fanferlot saw that he was gaining ground, and this certainty, -making him more at ease, gave weight to his eloquence. - -"You have it in your power, madame," he said, "to render a great -service to the man you love." - -"In what way, monsieur, in what way?" - -"Obey him, my child," said Fanferlot, in a paternal manner. - -Mme. Gypsy evidently expected very different advice. - -"Obey," she murmured, "obey!" - -"It is your duty," said Fanferlot with grave dignity, "it is your -sacred duty." - -She still hesitated; and he took from the table Prosper's note, which -she had laid there, then continued: - -"What! M. Bertomy at the most trying moment, when he is about to be -arrested, stops to point out your line of conduct; and you would -render vain this wise precaution! What does he say to you? Let us read -over this note, which is like the testament of his liberty. He says, -'If you love me, I entreat you, obey.' And you hesitate to obey. Then -you do not love him. Can you not understand, unhappy child, that M. -Bertomy has his reasons, terrible, imperious reasons, for your -remaining in obscurity for the present?" - -Fanferlot understood these reasons the moment he put his foot in the -sumptuous apartment of the Rue Chaptal; and, if he did not expose them -now, it was because he kept them as a good general keeps his reserve, -for the purpose of deciding the victory. - -Mme. Gypsy was intelligent enough to divine these reasons. - -"Reasons for my hiding! Prosper wishes, then, to keep everyone in -ignorance of our intimacy." - -She remained thoughtful for a moment; then a ray of light seemed to -cross her mind, and she cried: - -"Oh, I understand now! Fool that I was for not seeing it before! My -presence here, where I have been for a year, would be an overwhelming -charge against him. An inventory of my possessions would be taken--of -my dresses, my laces, my jewels--and my luxury would be brought -against him as a crime. He would be asked to tell where he obtained so -much money to lavish all these elegancies on me." - -The detective bowed, and said: - -"That is true, madame." - -"Then I must fly, monsieur, at once. Who knows that the police are not -already warned, and may appear at any moment?" - -"Oh," said Fanferlot with easy assurance, "you have plenty of time; -the police are not so very prompt." - -"No matter!" - -And, leaving the detective alone in the parlor, Mme. Nina hastily ran -into her bedroom, and calling her maid, her cook, and her little -footman, ordered them to empty her bureau and chests of their -contents, and assisted them to stuff her best clothing and jewels into -her trunks. - -Suddenly she rushed back to Fanferlot and said: - -"Everything will be ready to start in a few minutes, but where am I to -go?" - -"Did not M. Bertomy say, my dear lady, to the other end of Paris? To a -hotel, or furnished apartments." - -"But I don't know where to find any." - -Fanferlot seemed to be reflecting; but he had great difficulty in -concealing his delight at a sudden idea that flashed upon him; his -little black eyes fairly danced with joy. - -"I know of a hotel," he said at last, "but it might not suit you. It -is not elegantly furnished like this room." - -"Would I be comfortable there?" - -"Upon my recommendation you would be treated like a queen, and, above -all, concealed." - -"Where is it?" - -"On the other side of the river, Quai Saint Michel, the Archangel, -kept by Mme. Alexandre." - -Mme. Nina was never long making up her mind. - -"Here are pen and paper; write your recommendation." - -He rapidly wrote, and handed her the letter. - -"With these three lines, madame, you can make Mme. Alexandre do -anything you wish." - -"Very good. Now, how am I to let Cavaillon know my address? It was he -who should have brought me Prosper's letter." - -"He was unable to come, madame," interrupted the detective, "but I -will give him your address." - -Mme. Gypsy was about to send for a carriage, but Fanferlot said he was -in a hurry, and would send her one. He seemed to be in luck that day; -for a cab was passing the door, and he hailed it. - -"Wait here," he said to the driver, after telling him that he was a -detective, "for a little brunette who is coming down with some trunks. -If she tells you to drive her to Quai Saint Michel, crack your whip; -if she gives you any other address, get down from your seat, and -arrange your harness. I will keep in sight." - -He stepped across the street, and stood in the door of a wine-store. -He had not long to wait. In a few minutes the loud cracking of a whip -apprised him that Mme. Nina had started for the Archangel. - -"Aha," said he, gayly, "I told /her/, at any rate." - - - -IV - -At the same hour that Mme. Nina Gypsy was seeking refuge at the -Archangel, so highly recommended by Fanferlot the Squirrel, Prosper -Bertomy was being entered on the jailer's book at the police office. - -Since the moment when he had resumed his habitual composure, he had -not faltered. - -Vainly did the people around him watch for a suspicious expression, or -any sign of giving way under the danger of his situation. - -His face was like marble. - -One would have supposed him insensible to the horrors of his -condition, had not his heavy breathing, and the beads of perspiration -standing on his brow, betrayed the intense agony he was suffering. - -At the police office, where he had to wait two hours while the -commissary went to receive orders from higher authorities, he entered -into conversation with the two bailiffs who had charge of him. - -At twelve o'clock he said he was hungry, and sent to a restaurant near -by for his breakfast, which he ate with a good appetite; he also drank -nearly a bottle of wine. - -While he was thus occupied, several clerks from the prefecture, who -have to transact business daily with the commissary of police, -curiously watched him. They all formed the same opinion, and -admiringly said to each other: - -"Well, he is made of strong material, he is!" - -"Yes, my dandy looks too lamb-like to be left to his own devices. He -ought to have a strong escort." - -When he was told that a coach was waiting for him at the door, he at -once got up; but, before going out, he requested permission to light a -cigar, which was granted. - -A flower-girl stood just by the door, with her stand filled with all -varieties of flowers. He stopped and bought a bunch of violets. The -girl, seeing that he was arrested, said, by way of thanks: - -"Good luck to you, my poor gentleman!" - -He appeared touched by this mark of interest, and replied: - -"Thanks, my good woman, but 'tis a long time since I have had any." - -It was magnificent weather, a bright spring morning. As the coach went -along Rue Montmartre, Prosper kept his head out of the window, at the -same time smilingly complaining at being imprisoned on such a lovely -day, when everything outside was so sunny and pleasant. - -"It is singular," he said, "I never felt so great a desire to take a -walk." - -One of the bailiffs, a large, jovial, red-faced man, received this -remark with a hearty burst of laughter, and said: - -"I understand." - -To the court clerk, while he was going through the formalities of the -commitment, Prosper replied with haughty brevity to the indispensable -questions asked him. - -But when he was ordered to empty his pockets on the table, and they -began to search him, his eyes flashed with indignation, and a single -tear dropped upon his flushed cheek. In an instant he had recovered -his stony calmness, and stood up motionless, with his arms raised in -the air so that the rough creatures about him could more conveniently -ransack him from head to foot, to assure themselves that he had no -suspicious object hid under his clothes. - -The search would have, perhaps, been carried to the most ignominious -lengths, but for the intervention of a middle-aged man of rather -distinguished appearance, who wore a white cravat and gold spectacles, -and was sitting quite at home by the fire. - -He started with surprise, and seemed much agitated, when he saw -Prosper brought in by the bailiffs; he stepped forward, and seemed -about to speak to him, then suddenly changed his mind, and sat down -again. - -In spite of his own troubles, Prosper could not help seeing that this -man kept his eyes fastened upon him. Did he know him? Vainly did he -try to recollect having met him before. - -This man, treated with all the deference due to a chief, was no less a -personage than M. Lecoq, a celebrated member of the detective corps. - -When the men who were searching Prosper were about to take off his -boots, saying that a knife might be concealed in them. M. Lecoq waved -them aside with an air of authority, and said: - -"You have done enough." - -He was obeyed. All the formalities being ended, the unfortunate -cashier was taken to a narrow cell; the heavily barred door was swung -to and locked upon him; he breathed freely; at last he was alone. - -Yes, he believed himself to be alone. He was ignorant that a prison is -made of glass, that the accused is like a miserable insect under the -microscope of an entomologist. He knew not that the walls have -stretched ears and watchful eyes. - -He was so sure of being alone that he at once gave vent to his -suppressed feelings, and, dropping his mask of impassibility, burst -into a flood of tears. His long-restrained anger now flashed out like -a smouldering fire. - -In a paroxysm of rage he uttered imprecations and curses. He dashed -himself against the prison-walls like a wild beast in a cage. - -Prosper Bertomy was not the man he appeared to be. - -This haughty, correct gentleman had ardent passions and a fiery -temperament. - -One day, when he was about twenty-four years of age, he had become -suddenly fired by ambition. While all of his desires were repressed, -imprisoned in his low estate, like an athlete in a strait-jacket, -seeing around him all these rich people with whom money assumed the -place of the wand in the fairy-tale, he envied their lot. - -He studied the beginnings of these financial princes, and found that -at the starting-point they possessed far less than himself. - -How, then, had they succeeded? By force of energy, industry, and -assurance. - -He determined to imitate and excel them. - -From this day, with a force of will much less rare than we think, he -imposed silence upon his instincts. He reformed not his morals, but -his manners; and so strictly did he conform to the rules of decorum, -that he was regarded as a model of propriety by those who knew him, -and had faith in his character; and his capabilities and ambition -inspired the prophecy that he would be successful in attaining -eminence and wealth. - -And the end of all was this: imprisoned for robbery; that is, ruined! - -For he did not attempt to deceive himself. He knew that, guilty or -innocent, a man once suspected is as ineffaceably branded as the -shoulder of a galley-slave. - -Therefore what was the use of struggling? What benefit was a triumph -which could not wash out the stain? - -When the jailer brought him his supper, he found him lying on his -pallet, with his face buried in the pillow, weeping bitterly. - -Ah, he was not hungry now! Now that he was alone, he fed upon his own -bitter thoughts. He sank from a state of frenzy into one of stupefying -despair, and vainly did he endeavor to clear his confused mind, and -account for the dark cloud gathering about him; no loop-hole for -escape did he discover. - -The night was long and terrible, and for the first time he had nothing -to count the hours by, as they slowly dragged on, but the measured -tread of the patrol who came to relieve the sentinels. He was -wretched. - -At dawn he dropped into a sleep, a heavy, oppressive sleep, which was -more wearisome than refreshing; from which he was startled by the -rough voice of the jailer. - -"Come, monsieur," he said, "it is time for you to appear before the -judge of instruction." - -He jumped up at once, and, without stopping to repair his disordered -toilet, said: - -"Come on, quick!" - -The constable remarked, as they walked along: - -"You are very fortunate in having your case brought before an honest -man." - -He was right. - -Endowed with remarkable penetration, firm, unbiased, equally free from -false pity and excessive severity, M. Patrigent possessed in an -eminent degree all the qualities necessary for the delicate and -difficult office of judge of instruction. - -Perhaps he was wanting in the feverish activity which is sometimes -necessary for coming to a quick and just decision; but he possessed -unwearying patience, which nothing could discourage. He would -cheerfully devote years to the examination of a case; he was even now -engaged on a case of Belgian bank-notes, of which he did not collect -all the threads, and solve the mystery, until after four years' -investigation. - -Thus it was always to his office that they brought the endless -lawsuits, half-finished inquests, and tangled cases. - -This was the man before whom they were taking Prosper; and they were -taking him by a difficult road. - -He was escorted along a corridor, through a room full of policemen, -down a narrow flight of steps, across a kind of cellar, and then up a -steep staircase which seemed to have no terminus. - -Finally he reached a long narrow galley, upon which opened many doors, -bearing different numbers. - -The custodian of the unhappy cashier stopped before one of these -doors, and said: - -"Here we are; here your fate will be decided." - -At this remark, uttered in a tone of deep commiseration, Prosper could -not refrain from shuddering. - -It was only too true, that on the other side of this door was a man -upon whose decision his freedom depended. - -Summoning all his courage, he turned the door-knob, and was about to -enter when the constable stopped him. - -"Don't be in such haste," he said; "you must sit down here, and wait -till your turn comes; then you will be called." - -The wretched man obeyed, and his keeper took a seat beside him. - -Nothing is more terrible and lugubrious than this gallery of the -judges of instruction. - -Stretching the whole length of the wall is a wooden bench blackened by -constant use. This bench has for the last ten years been daily -occupied by all the murderers, thieves, and suspicious characters of -the Department of the Seine. - -Sooner or later, fatally, as filth rushes to a sewer, does crime reach -this gallery, this dreadful gallery with one door opening on the -galleys, the other on the scaffold. This place was vulgarly and -pithily denominated by a certain magistrate as the great public wash- -house of all the dirty linen in Paris. - -When Prosper reached the gallery it was full of people. The bench was -almost entirely occupied. Beside him, so close as to touch his -shoulder, sat a man with a sinister countenance, dressed in rags. - -Before each door, which belonged to a judge of instruction, stood -groups of witnesses talking in an undertone. - -Policemen were constantly coming and going with prisoners. Sometimes, -above the noise of their heavy boots, tramping along the flagstones, -could be heard a woman's stifled sobs, and looking around you would -see some poor mother or wife with her face buried in her handkerchief, -weeping bitterly. - -At short intervals a door would open and shut, and a bailiff call out -a name or number. - -This stifling atmosphere, and the sight of so much misery, made the -cashier ill and faint; he was feeling as if another five minutes' stay -among these wretched creatures would make him deathly sick, when a -little old man dressed in black, wearing the insignia of his office, a -steel chain, cried out: - -"Prosper Bertomy!" - -The unhappy man arose, and, without knowing how, found himself in the -office of the judge of instruction. - -For a moment he was blinded. He had come out of a dark room; and the -one in which he now found himself had a window directly opposite the -door, so that a flood of light fell suddenly upon him. - -This office, like all those on the gallery, was of a very ordinary -appearance, small and dingy. - -The wall was covered with cheap dark green paper, and on the floor was -a hideous brown carpet, very much worn. - -Opposite the door was a large desk, filled with bundles of law-papers, -behind which was seated the judge, facing those who entered, so that -his face remained in the shade, while that of the prisoner or witness -whom he questioned was in a glare of light. - -At the right, before a little table, sat a clerk writing, the -indispensable auxiliary of the judge. - -But Prosper observed none of these details: his whole attention was -concentrated upon the arbiter of his fate, and as he closely examined -his face he was convinced that the jailer was right in calling him an -honorable man. - -M. Patrigent's homely face, with its irregular outline and short red -whiskers, lit up by a pair of bright, intelligent eyes, and a kindly -expression, was calculated to impress one favorably at first sight. - -"Take a seat," he said to Prosper. - -This little attention was gratefully welcomed by the prisoner, for he -had expected to be treated with harsh contempt. He looked upon it as a -good sign, and his mind felt a slight relief. - -M. Patrigent turned toward the clerk, and said: - -"We will begin now, Sigault; pay attention." - -"What is your name?" he then asked, looking at Prosper. - -"Auguste Prosper Bertomy." - -"How old are you?" - -"I shall be thirty the 5th of next May." - -"What is your profession?" - -"I am--that is, I was--cashier in M. Andre Fauvel's bank." - -The judge stopped to consult a little memorandum lying on his desk. -Prosper, who followed attentively his every movement, began to be -hopeful, saying to himself that never would a man so unprejudiced have -the cruelty to send him to prison again. - -After finding what he looked for, M. Patrigent resumed the -examination. - -"Where do you live?" - -"At No. 39, Rue Chaptal, for the last four years. Before that time I -lived at No. 7, Boulevard des Batignolles." - -"Where were you born?" - -"At Beaucaire in the Department of the Gard." - -"Are your parents living?" - -"My mother died two years ago; my father is still living." - -"Does he live in Paris?" - -"No, monsieur: he lives at Beaucaire with my sister, who married one -of the engineers of the Southern Canal." - -It was in broken tones that Prosper answered these last questions. -There are moments in the life of a man when home memories encourage -and console him; there are also moments when he would be thankful to -be without a single tie, and bitterly regrets that he is not alone in -the world. - -M. Patrigent observed the prisoner's emotion, when he spoke of his -parents. - -"What is your father's calling?" he continued. - -"He was formerly superintendent of the bridges and canals; then he was -employed on the Southern Canal, with my brother-in-law; now he has -retired from business." - -There was a moment's silence. The judge had turned his chair around, -so that, although his head was apparently averted, he had a good view -of the workings of Prosper's face. - -"Well," he said, abruptly, "you are accused of having robbed M. Fauvel -of three hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -During the last twenty-four hours the wretched young man had had time -to familiarize himself with the terrible idea of this accusation; and -yet, uttered as it was in this formal, brief tone, it seemed to strike -him with a horror which rendered him incapable of opening his lips. - -"What have you to answer?" asked the judge. - -"That I am innocent, monsieur; I swear that I am innocent!" - -"I hope you are," said M. Patrigent, "and you may count upon me to -assist you to the extent of my ability in proving your innocence. You -must have defence, some facts to state; have you not?" - -"Ah, monsieur, what can I say, when I cannot understand this dreadful -business myself? I can only refer you to my past life." - -The judge interrupted him: - -"Let us be specific; the robbery was committed under circumstances -that prevent suspicion from falling upon anyone but M. Fauvel and -yourself. Do you suspect anyone else?" - -"No, monsieur." - -"You declare yourself to be innocent, therefore the guilty party must -be M. Fauvel." - -Prosper remained silent. - -"Have you," persisted the judge, "any cause for believing that M. -Fauvel robbed himself?" - -The prisoner preserved a rigid silence. - -"I see, monsieur," said the judge, "that you need time for reflection. -Listen to the reading of your examination, and after signing it you -will return to prison." - -The unhappy man was overcome. The last ray of hope was gone. He heard -nothing of what Sigault read, and he signed the paper without looking -at it. - -He tottered as he left the judge's office, so that the keeper was -forced to support him. - -"I fear your case looks dark, monsieur," said the man, "but don't be -disheartened; keep up your courage." - -Courage! Prosper had not a spark of it when he returned to his cell; -but his heart was filled with anger and resentment. - -He had determined that he would defend himself before the judge, that -he would prove his innocence; and he had not had time to do so. He -reproached himself bitterly for having trusted to the judge's -benevolent face. - -"What a farce," he angrily exclaimed, "to call that an examination!" - -It was not really an examination, but a mere formality. - -In summoning Prosper, M. Patrigent obeyed Article 93 of the Criminal -Code, which says, "Every suspected person under arrest must be -examined within twenty-four hours." - -But it is not in twenty-four hours, especially in a case like this, -with no evidence or material proof, that a judge can collect the -materials for an examination. - -To triumph over the obstinate defence of a prisoner who shuts himself -up in absolute denial as if in a fortress, valid proofs are needed. -These weapons M. Patrigent was busily preparing. If Prosper had -remained a little longer in the gallery, he would have seen the same -bailiff who had called him come out to the judge's office, and cry -out: - -"Number three." - -The witness, who was awaiting his turn, and answered the call for -number three, was M. Fauvel. - -The banker was no longer the same man. Yesterday he was kind and -affable in his manner: now, as he entered the judge's room, he seemed -irritated. Reflection, which usually brings calmness and a desire to -pardon, brought him anger and a thirst for vengeance. - -The inevitable questions which commence every examination had scarcely -been addressed to him before his impetuous temper gained the mastery, -and he burst forth in invectives against Prosper. - -M. Patrigent was obliged to impose silence upon him, reminding him of -what was due to himself, no matter what wrongs he had suffered at the -hands of his clerk. - -Although he had very slightly examined Prosper, the judge was now -scrupulously attentive and particular in having every question -answered. Prosper's examination had been a mere formality, the stating -and proving a fact. Now it related to collecting the attendant -circumstances and the most trifling particulars, so as to group them -together, and reach a just conclusion. - -"Let us proceed in order," said the judge, "and pray confine yourself -to answering my questions. Did you ever suspect your cashier of being -dishonest?" - -"Certainly not. Yet there were reasons which should have made me -hesitate to trust him with my funds." - -"What reasons?" - -"M. Bertomy played cards. I have known of his spending whole nights at -the gaming table, and losing immense sums of money. He was intimate -with an unprincipled set. Once he was mixed up with one of my clients, -M. de Clameran, in a scandalous gambling affair which took place at -the house of some disreputable woman, and wound up by being tried -before the police court." - -For some minutes the banker continued to revile Prosper. - -"You must confess, monsieur," interrupted the judge, "that you were -very imprudent, if not culpable, to have intrusted your safe to such a -man." - -"Ah, monsieur, Prosper was not always thus. Until the past year he was -a model of goodness. He lived in my house as one of my family; he -spent all of his evenings with us, and was the bosom friend of my -eldest son Lucien. One day, he suddenly left us, and never came to the -house again. Yet I had every reason to believe him attached to my -niece Madeleine." - -M. Patrigent had a peculiar manner of contracting his brows when he -thought he had discovered some new proof. He now did this, and said: - -"Might not this admiration for the young lady have been the cause of -M. Bertomy's estrangement?" - -"How so?" said the banker with surprise. "I was willing to bestow -Madeleine upon him, and, to be frank, was astonished that he did not -ask for her hand. My niece would be a good match for any man, and he -should have considered himself fortunate to obtain her. She is -beautiful, and her dowry will be half a million." - -"Then you can see no motive for your cashier's conduct?" - -"It is impossible for me to account for it. I have, however, always -supposed that Prosper was led astray by a young man whom he met at my -house about this time, M. Raoul de Lagors." - -"Ah! and who is this young man?" - -"A relative of my wife; a very attractive, intelligent young man, -somewhat wild, but rich enough to pay for his follies." - -The judge wrote the name Lagors at the bottom of an already long list -on his memorandum. - -"Now," he said, "we are coming to the point. You are sure that the -theft was not committed by anyone in your house?" - -"Quite sure, monsieur." - -"You always kept your key?" - -"I generally carried it about on my person; and, whenever I left it at -home, I put it in the secretary drawer in my chamber." - -"Where was it the evening of the robbery?" - -"In my secretary." - -"But then--" - -"Excuse me for interrupting you," said M. Fauvel, "and to permit me to -tell you that, to a safe like mine, the key is of no importance. In -the first place, one is obliged to know the word upon which the five -movable buttons turn. With the word one can open it without the key; -but without the word--" - -"And you never told this word to anyone?" - -"To no one, monsieur, and sometimes I would have been puzzled to know -myself with what word the safe had been closed. Prosper would change -it when he chose, and, if he had not informed me of the change, would -have to come and open it for me." - -"Had you forgotten it on the day of the theft?" - -"No: the word had been changed the day before; and its peculiarity -struck me." - -"What was it?" - -"Gypsy, g, y, p, s, y," said the banker, spelling the name. - -M. Patrigent wrote down this name. - -"One more question, monsieur: were you at home the evening before the -robbery?" - -"No; I dined and spent the evening with a friend; when I returned -home, about one o'clock, my wife had retired, and I went to bed -immediately." - -"And you were ignorant of the amount of money in the safe?" - -"Absolutely. In conformity with my positive orders, I could only -suppose that a small sum had been left there over-night; I stated this -fact to the commissary in M. Bertomy's presence, and he acknowledged -it to be the case." - -"Perfectly correct, monsieur: the commissary's report proves it." M. -Patrigent was for a time silent. To him everything depended upon this -one fact, that the banker was unaware of the three hundred and fifty -thousand francs being in the safe, and Prosper had disobeyed orders by -placing them there over-night; hence the conclusion was very easily -drawn. - -Seeing that his examination was over, the banker thought that he would -relieve his mind of what was weighing upon it. - -"I believe myself above suspicion, monsieur," he began, "and yet I can -never rest easy until Bertomy's guilt has been clearly proved. Calumny -prefers attacking a successful man: I may be calumniated: three -hundred and fifty thousand francs is a fortune capable of tempting -even a rich man. I would be obliged if you would have the condition of -my banking-house examined. This examination will prove that I could -have no interest in robbing my own safe. The prosperous condition of -my affairs--" - -"That is sufficient, monsieur." - -M. Patrigent was well informed of the high standing of the banker, and -knew almost as much of his affairs as did M. Fauvel himself. - -He asked him to sign his testimony, and then escorted him to the door -of his office, a rare favor on his part. - -When M. Fauvel had left the room, Sigault indulged in a remark. - -"This seems to be a very cloudy case," he said; "if the cashier is -shrewd and firm, it will be difficult to convict him." - -"Perhaps it will," said the judge, "but let us hear the other -witnesses before deciding." - -The person who answered to the call for number four was Lucien, M. -Fauvel's eldest son. - -He was a tall, handsome young man of twenty-two. To the judge's -questions he replied that he was very fond of Prosper, was once very -intimate with him, and had always regarded him as a strictly honorable -man, incapable of doing anything unbecoming a gentleman. - -He declared that he could not imagine what fatal circumstances could -have induced Prosper to commit a theft. He knew he played cards, but -not to the extent that was reported. He had never known him to indulge -in expenses beyond his means. - -In regard to his cousin Madeleine, he replied: - -"I always thought that Prosper was in love with Madeleine, and, until -yesterday, I was certain he would marry her, knowing that my father -would not oppose their marriage. I have always attributed the -discontinuance of Prosper's visits to a quarrel with my cousin, but -supposed they would end by becoming reconciled." - -This information, more than that of M. Fauvel, threw light upon -Prosper's past life, but did not apparently reveal any evidence which -could be used in the present state of affairs. - -Lucien signed his deposition, and withdrew. - -Cavaillon's turn for examination came next. The poor fellow was in a -pitiable state of mind when he appeared before the judge. - -Having, as a great secret, confided to a friend his adventure with the -detective, and being jeered at for his cowardice in giving up the -note, he felt great remorse, and passed the night in reproaching -himself for having ruined Prosper. - -He endeavored to repair, as well as he could, what he called his -treason. - -He did not exactly accuse M. Fauvel, but he courageously declared that -he was the cashier's friend, and that he was as sure of his innocence -as he was of his own. - -Unfortunately, besides his having no proofs to strengthen his -assertions, these were deprived of any value by his violent -professions of friendship for the accused. - -After Cavaillon, six or eight clerks of the Fauvel bank successively -defiled in the judge's office; but their depositions were nearly all -insignificant. - -One of them, however, stated a fact which the judge carefully noted. -He said he knew that Prosper had speculated on the Bourse through the -medium of M. Raoul de Lagors, and had gained immense sums. - -Five o'clock struck before the list of witnesses summoned for the day -was exhausted. But the task of M. Patrigent was not yet finished. He -rang for his bailiff, who instantly appeared, and said to him: - -"Go at once, and bring Fanferlot here." - -It was some time before the detective answered the summons. Having met -a colleague on the gallery, he thought it his duty to treat him to a -drink; and the bailiff had found it necessary to bring him from the -little inn at the corner. - -"How is it that you keep people waiting?" said the judge, when he -entered bowing and scraping. Fanferlot bowed more profoundly still. - -Despite his smiling face, he was very uneasy. To prosecute the Bertomy -case alone, it required a double play that might be discovered at any -moment; to manage at once the cause of justice and his own ambition, -he ran great risks, the least of which was the losing of his place. - -"I have a great deal to do," he said, to excuse himself, "and have not -wasted any time." - -And he began to give a detailed account of his movements. He was -embarrassed, for he spoke with all sorts of restrictions, picking out -what was to be said, and avoiding what was to be left unsaid. Thus he -gave the history of Cavaillon's letter, which he handed to the judge; -but he did not breathe a word of Madeleine. On the other hand, he gave -biographical details, very minute indeed, of Prosper and Mme. Gypsy, -which he had collected from various quarters during the day. - -As he progressed the conviction of M. Patrigent was strengthened. - -"This young man is evidently guilty," he said. Fanferlot did not -reply; his opinion was different, but he was delighted that the judge -was on the wrong track, thinking that his own glory would thereby be -the greater when he discovered the real culprit. True, this grand -discovery was as far off as it had ever been; but Fanferlot was -hopeful. - -After hearing all he had to tell, the judge dismissed Fanferlot, -telling him to return the next day. - -"Above all," he said, as Fanferlot left the room, "do not lose sight -of the girl Gypsy; she must know where the money is, and can put us on -the track." - -Fanferlot smiled cunningly. - -"You may rest easy about that, monsieur; the lady is in good hands." - -Left to himself, although the evening was far advanced, M. Patrigent -continued to busy himself with the case, and to arrange that the rest -of the depositions should be made. - -This case had actually taken possession of his mind; it was, at the -same time, puzzling and attractive. It seemed to be surrounded by a -cloud of mystery, and he determined to penetrate and dispel it. - -The next morning he was in his office much earlier than usual. On this -day he examined Mme. Gypsy, recalled Cavaillon, and sent again for M. -Fauvel. For several days he displayed the same activity. - -Of all the witnesses summoned, only two failed to appear. - -One was the office-boy sent by Prosper to bring the money from the -city bank; he was ill from a fall. - -The other was M. Raoul de Lagors. - -But their absence did not prevent the file of papers relating to -Prosper's case from daily increasing; and on the ensuing Monday, five -days after the robbery, M. Patrigent thought he held in his hands -enough moral proof to crush the accused. - - - -V - -While his whole past was the object of the most minute investigations, -Prosper was in prison, in a secret cell. - -The two first days had not appeared very long. - -He had requested, and been granted, some sheets of paper, numbered, -which he was obliged to account for; and he wrote, with a sort of -rage, plans of defence and a narrative of justification. - -The third day he began to be uneasy at not seeing anyone except the -condemned prisoners who were employed to serve those confined in -secret cells, and the jailer who brought him his food. - -"Am I not to be examined again?" he would ask. - -"Your turn is coming," the jailer invariably answered. - -Time passed; and the wretched man, tortured by the sufferings of -solitary confinement which quickly breaks the spirit, sank into the -depths of despair. - -"Am I to stay here forever?" he moaned. - -No, he was not forgotten; for on Monday morning, at one o'clock, an -hour when the jailer never came, he heard the heavy bolt of his cell -pushed back. - -He ran toward the door. - -But the sight of a gray-headed man standing on the sill rooted him to -the spot. - -"Father," he gasped, "father!" - -"Your father, yes!" - -Prosper's astonishment at seeing his father was instantly succeeded by -a feeling of great joy. - -A father is one friend upon whom we can always rely. In the hour of -need, when all else fails, we remember this man upon whose knees we -sat when children, and who soothed our sorrows; and although he can in -no way assist us, his presence alone comforts and strengthens. - -Without reflecting, Prosper, impelled by tender feeling, was about to -throw himself on his father's bosom. - -M. Bertomy harshly repulsed him. - -"Do not approach me!" he exclaimed. - -He then advanced into the cell, and closed the door. The father and -son were alone together, Prosper heart-broken, crushed; M. Bertomy -angry, almost threatening. - -Cast off by this last friend, by his father, the miserable young man -seemed to be stupefied with pain and disappointment. - -"You too!" he bitterly cried. "You, you believe me guilty? Oh, -father!" - -"Spare yourself this shameful comedy," interrupted M. Bertomy: "I know -all." - -"But I am innocent, father; I swear it by the sacred memory of my -mother." - -"Unhappy wretch," cried M. Bertomy, "do not blaspheme!" - -He seemed overcome by tender thoughts of the past, and in a weak, -broken voice, he added: - -"Your mother is dead, Prosper, and little did I think that the day -would come when I could thank God for having taken her from me. Your -crime would have killed her, would have broken her heart!" - -After a painful silence, Prosper said: - -"You overwhelm me, father, and at the moment when I need all my -courage; when I am the victim of an odious plot." - -"Victim!" cried M. Bertomy, "victim! Dare you utter your insinuations -against the honorable man who has taken care of you, loaded you with -benefits, and had insured you a brilliant future! It is enough for you -to have robbed him; do not calumniate him." - -"For pity's sake, father, let me speak!" - -"I suppose you would deny your benefactor's kindness. Yet you were at -one time so sure of his affection, that you wrote me to hold myself in -readiness to come to Paris and ask M. Fauvel for the hand of his -niece. Was that a lie too?" - -"No," said Prosper in a choked voice, "no." - -"That was a year ago; you then loved Mlle. Madeleine; at least you -wrote to me that you--" - -"Father, I love her now, more than ever; I have never ceased to love -her." - -M. Bertomy made a gesture of contemptuous pity. - -"Indeed!" he cried, "and the thought of the pure, innocent girl whom -you loved did not prevent your entering upon a path of sin. You loved -her: how dared you, then, without blushing, approach her presence -after associating with the shameless creatures with whom you were so -intimate?" - -"For Heaven's sake, let me explain by what fatality Madeleine--" - -"Enough, monsieur, enough. I told you that I know everything. I saw M. -Fauvel yesterday; this morning I saw the judge, and 'tis to his -kindness that I am indebted for this interview. Do you know what -mortification I suffered before being allowed to see you? I was -searched and made to empty all of my pockets, on suspicion of bringing -you arms!" - -Prosper ceased to justify himself, but in a helpless, hopeless way, -dropped down upon a seat. - -"I have seen your apartments, and at once recognized the proofs of -your crime. I saw silk curtains hanging before every window and door, -and the walls covered with pictures. In my father's house the walls -were whitewashed; and there was but one arm-chair in the whole house, -and that was my mother's. Our luxury was our honesty. You are the -first member of our family who has possessed Aubusson carpets; though, -to be sure, you are the first thief of our blood." - -At this last insult Prosper's face flushed crimson, but he remained -silent and immovable. - -"But luxury is necessary now," continued M. Bertomy, becoming more -excited and angry as he went on, "luxury must be had at any price. You -must have the insolent opulence and display of an upstart, without -being an upstart. You must support worthless women who wear satin -slippers lined with swan's-down, like those I saw in your rooms, and -keep servants in livery--and you steal! And bankers no longer trust -their safe-keys with anybody; and every day honest families are -disgraced by the discovery of some new piece of villainy." - -M. Bertomy suddenly stopped. He saw that his son was not in a -condition to hear any more reproaches. - -"But I will say no more," he said. "I came here not to reproach, but -to, if possible, save the honor of our name, to prevent it from being -published in the papers bearing the names of thieves and murderers. -Stand up and listen to me!" - -At the imperious tone of his father, Prosper arose. So many successive -blows had reduced him to a state of torpor. - -"First of all," began M. Bertomy, "how much have you remaining of the -stolen three hundred and fifty thousand francs?" - -"Once more, father," replied the unfortunate man in a tone of hopeless -resignation, "once more I swear I am innocent." - -"So I supposed you would say. Then our family will have to repair the -injury you have done M. Fauvel." - -"What do you mean?" - -"The day he heard of your crime, your brother-in-law brought me your -sister's dowry, seventy thousand francs. I succeeded in collecting a -hundred and forty thousand francs more. This makes two hundred and ten -thousand francs which I have brought with me to give to M. Fauvel." - -This threat aroused Prosper from his torpor. - -"You shall do nothing of the kind!" he cried with unrestrained -indignation. - -"I will do so before the sun goes down this day. M. Fauvel will grant -me time to pay the rest. My pension is fifteen hundred francs. I can -live upon five hundred, and am strong enough to go to work again; and -your brother-in-law--" - -M. Bertomy stopped short, frightened at the expression of his son's -face. His features were contracted with such furious rage that he was -scarcely recognizable, and his eyes glared like a maniac's. - -"You dare not disgrace me thus!" he cried; "you have no right to do -it. You are free to disbelieve me yourself, but you have no right for -taking a step that would be a confession of guilt, and ruin me -forever. Who and what convinces you of my guilt? When cold justice -hesitates, you, my father, hesitate not, but, more pitiless than the -law, condemn me unheard!" - -"I only do my duty." - -"Which means that I stand on the edge of a precipice, and you push me -over. Do you call that your duty? What! between strangers who accuse -me, and myself who swear that I am innocent, you do not hesitate? Why? -Is it because I am your son? Our honor is at stake, it is true; but -that is only the more reason why you should sustain me, and assist me -to defend myself." - -Prosper's earnest, truthful manner was enough to unsettle the firmest -convictions, and make doubt penetrate the most stubborn mind. - -"Yet," said M. Bertomy in a hesitating tone, "everything seems to -accuse you." - -"Ah, father, you do not know that I was suddenly banished from -Madeleine's presence; that I was compelled to avoid her. I became -desperate, and tried to forget my sorrow in dissipation. I sought -oblivion, and found shame and disgust. Oh, Madeleine, Madeleine!" - -He was overcome with emotion; but in a few minutes he started up with -renewed violence in his voice and manner. - -"Everything is against me!" he exclaimed, "but no matter. I will -justify myself or perish in the attempt. Human justice is liable to -error; although innocent, I may be convicted: so be it. I will undergo -my penalty; but people are not kept galley-slaves forever." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean, father, that I am now another man. My life, henceforth, has -an object, vengeance! I am the victim of a vile plot. As long as I -have a drop of blood in my veins, I will seek its author. And I will -certainly find him; and then bitterly shall he expiate all of my cruel -suffering. The blow came from the house of Fauvel, and I will live to -prove it." - -"Take care: your anger makes you say things that you will repent -hereafter." - -"Yes, I see, you are going to descant upon the probity of M. Andre -Fauvel. You will tell me that all the virtues have taken refuge in the -bosom of this patriarchal family. What do you know about it? Would -this be the first instance in which the most shameful secrets are -concealed beneath the fairest appearances? Why did Madeleine suddenly -forbid me to think of her? Why has she exiled me, when she suffers as -much from our separation as I myself, when she still loves me? For she -does love me. I am sure of it. I have proofs of it." - -The jailer came to say that the time allotted to M. Bertomy had -expired, and that he must leave the cell. - -A thousand conflicting emotions seemed to rend the old man's heart. - -Suppose Prosper were telling the truth: how great would be his -remorse, if he had added to his already great weight of sorrow and -trouble! And who could prove that he was not sincere? - -The voice of this son, of whom he had always been so proud, had -aroused all his paternal affection, so violently repressed. Ah, were -he guilty, and guilty of a worse crime, still he was his son, his only -son! - -His countenance lost its severity, and his eyes filled with tears. - -He had resolved to leave, as he had entered, stern and angry: he had -not the cruel courage. His heart was breaking. He opened his arms, and -pressed Prosper to his heart. - -"Oh, my son!" he murmured. "God grant you have spoken the truth!" - -Prosper was triumphant: he had almost convinced his father of his -innocence. But he had not time to rejoice over this victory. - -The cell-door again opened, and the jailer's gruff voice once more -called out: - -"It is time for you to appear before the court." - -He instantly obeyed the order. - -But his step was no longer unsteady, as a few days previous: a -complete change had taken place within him. He walked with a firm -step, head erect, and the fire of resolution in his eye. - -He knew the way now, and he walked a little ahead of the constable who -escorted him. - -As he was passing through the room full of policemen, he met the man -with gold spectacles, who had watched him so intently the day he was -searched. - -"Courage, M. Prosper Bertomy," he said: "if you are innocent, there -are those who will help you." - -Prosper started with surprise, and was about to reply, when the man -disappeared. - -"Who is that gentleman?" he asked of the policeman. - -"Is it possible that you don't know him?" replied the policeman with -surprise. "Why, it is M. Lecoq, of the police service." - -"You say his name is Lecoq?" - -"You might as well say 'monsieur,'" said the offended policeman; "it -would not burn your mouth. M. Lecoq is a man who knows everything that -he wants to know, without its ever being told to him. If you had had -him, instead of that smooth-tongued imbecile Fanferlot, your case -would have been settled long ago. Nobody is allowed to waste time when -he has command. But he seems to be a friend of yours." - -"I never saw him until the first day I came here." - -"You can't swear to that, because no one can boast of knowing the real -face of M. Lecoq. It is one thing to-day, and another to-morrow; -sometimes he is a dark man, sometimes a fair one, sometimes quite -young, and then an octogenarian: why, not seldom he even deceives me. -I begin to talk to a stranger, paf! the first thing I know, it is M. -Lecoq! Anybody on the face of the earth might be he. If I were told -that you were he, I should say, 'It is very likely.' Ah! he can -convert himself into any shape and form he chooses. He is a wonderful -man!" - -The constable would have continued forever his praises of M. Lecoq, -had not the sight of the judge's door put an end to them. - -This time, Prosper was not kept waiting on the wooden bench: the -judge, on the contrary, was waiting for him. - -M. Patrigent, who was a profound observer of human nature, had -contrived the interview between M. Bertomy and his son. - -He was sure that between the father, a man of such stubborn honor, and -the son, accused of theft, an affecting scene would take place, and -this scene would completely unman Prosper, and make him confess. - -He determined to send for him as soon as the interview was over, while -all his nerves were vibrating with terrible emotions: he would tell -the truth, to relieve his troubled, despairing mind. - -His surprise was great to see the cashier's bearing; resolute without -obstinacy, firm and assured without defiance. - -"Well," he said, "have you reflected?" - -"Not being guilty, monsieur, I had nothing to reflect upon." - -"Ah, I see the prison has not been a good counsellor; you forget that -sincerity and repentance are the first things necessary to obtain the -indulgence of the law." - -"I crave no indulgence, monsieur." - -M. Patrigent looked vexed, and said: - -"What would you say if I told you what had become of the three hundred -and fifty thousand francs?" - -Prosper shook his head sadly. - -"If it were known, monsieur, I would not be here, but at liberty." - -This device had often been used by the judge, and generally succeeded; -but, with a man so thoroughly master of himself, there was small -chance of success. It had been used at a venture, and failed. - -"Then you persist in accusing M. Fauvel?" - -"Him, or someone else." - -"Excuse me: no one else, since he alone knew the word. Had he any -interest in robbing himself?" - -"I can think of none." - -"Well, now I will tell you what interest you had in robbing him." - -M. Patrigent spoke as a man who was convinced of the facts he was -about to state; but his assurance was all assumed. - -He had relied upon crushing, at a blow, a despairing wretched man, and -was nonplussed by seeing him appear as determined upon resistance. - -"Will you be good enough to tell me," he said, in a vexed tone, "how -much you have spent during the last year?" - -Prosper did not find it necessary to stop to reflect and calculate. - -"Yes, monsieur," he answered, unhesitatingly: "circumstances made it -necessary for me to preserve the greatest order in my wild career; I -spent about fifty thousand francs." - -"Where did you obtain them?" - -"In the first place, twelve thousand francs were left to me by my -mother. I received from M. Fauvel fourteen thousand francs, as my -salary, and share of the profits. By speculating in stocks, I gained -eight thousand francs. The rest I borrowed, and intend repaying out of -the fifteen thousand francs which I have deposited in M. Fauvel's -bank." - -The account was clear, exact, and could be easily proved; it must be a -true one. - -"Who lent you the money?" - -"M. Raoul de Lagors." - -This witness had left Paris the day of the robbery, and could not be -found; so, for the time being, M. Patrigent was compelled to rely upon -Prosper's word. - -"Well," he said, "I will not press this point; but tell me why, in -spite of the formal order of M. Fauvel, you drew the money from the -Bank of France the night before, instead of waiting till the morning -of the payment?" - -"Because M. de Clameran had informed me that it would be agreeable, -necessary even, for him to have his money early in the morning. He -will testify to that fact, if you summon him; and I knew that I should -reach my office late." - -"Then M. de Clameran is a friend of yours?" - -"By no means. I have always felt repelled by him; but he is the -intimate friend of M. Lagors." - -While Sigault was writing down these answers, M. Patrigent was racking -his brain to imagine what could have occurred between M. Bertomy and -his son, to cause this transformation in Prosper. - -"One more thing," said the judge: "how did you spend the evening, the -night before the crime?" - -"When I left my office, at five o'clock, I took the St.-Germain train, -and went to Vesinet, M. de Lagors's country seat, to carry him fifteen -hundred francs which he had asked for; and, finding him not at home, I -left it with his servant." - -"Did he tell you that M. de Lagors was going away?" - -"No, monsieur. I did not know that he had left Paris." - -"Where did you go when you left Vesinet?" - -"I returned to Paris, and dined at a restaurant with a friend." - -"And then?" - -Prosper hesitated. - -"You are silent," said M. Patrigent; "then I shall tell you how you -employed your time. You returned to your rooms in the Rue Chaptal, -dressed yourself, and attended a /soiree/ given by one of those women -who style themselves dramatic artistes, and who are a disgrace to the -stage; who receive a hundred crowns a year, and yet keep their -carriages, at Mlle. Wilson's." - -"You are right, monsieur." - -"There is heavy playing at Wilson's?" - -"Sometimes." - -"You are in the habit of visiting places of this sort. Were you not -connected in some way with a scandalous adventure which took place at -the house of a woman named Crescenzi?" - -"I was summoned to testify, having witnessed a theft." - -"Gambling generally leads to stealing. And did you not play baccarat -at Wilson's, and lose eighteen hundred francs?" - -"Excuse me, monsieur, only eleven hundred." - -"Very well. In the morning you paid a note of a thousand francs." - -"Yes, monsieur." - -"Moreover, there remained in your desk five hundred francs, and you -had four hundred in your purse when you were arrested. So that -altogether, in twenty-four hours, four thousand five hundred francs--" - -Prosper was not discountenanced, but stupefied. - -Not being aware of the powerful means of investigation possessed by -the law, he wondered how in so short a time the judge could have -obtained such accurate information. - -"Your statement is correct, monsieur," he said finally. - -"Where did all this money come from? The evening before you had so -little that you were obliged to defer the payment of a small bill." - -"The day to which you allude, I sold through an agent some bonds I -had, about three thousand francs; besides, I took from the safe two -thousand francs in advance on my salary." - -The prisoner had given clear answers to all the questions put to him, -and M. Patrigent thought he would attack him on a new point. - -"You say you have no wish to conceal any of your actions; then why did -you write this note to one of your companions?" Here he held up the -mysterious note. - -This time the blow struck. Prosper's eyes dropped before the inquiring -look of the judge. - -"I thought," he stammered, "I wished--" - -"You wished to screen this woman?" - -"Yes, monsieur; I did. I knew that a man in my condition, accused of a -robbery, has every fault, every weakness he has ever indulged in, -charged against him as a great crime." - -"Which means that you knew that the presence of a woman at your house -would tell very much against you, and that justice would not excuse -this scandalous defiance of public morality. A man who respects -himself so little as to associate with a worthless woman, does not -elevate her to his standard, but he descends to her base level." - -"Monsieur!" - -"I suppose you know who the woman is, whom you permit to bear the -honest name borne by your mother?" - -"Mme. Gypsy was a governess when I first knew her. She was born at -Oporto, and came to France with a Portuguese family." - -"Her name is not Gypsy; she has never been a governess, and she is not -a Portuguese." - -Prosper began to protest against this statement; but M. Patrigent -shrugged his shoulders, and began looking over a large file of papers -on his desk. - -"Ah, here it is," he said, "listen: Palmyre Chocareille, born at Paris -in 1840, daughter of James Chocareille, undertaker's assistant, and of -Caroline Piedlent, his wife." - -Prosper looked vexed and impatient; he did not know that the judge was -reading him this report to convince him that nothing can escape the -police. - -"Palmyre Chocareille," he continued, "at twelve years of age was -apprenticed to a shoemaker, and remained with him until she was -sixteen. Traces of her for one year are lost. At the age of seventeen -she is hired as a servant by a grocer on the Rue St. Denis, named -Dombas, and remains there three months. She lives out during this same -year, 1857, at eight different places. In 1858 she entered the store -of a fan-merchant in Choiseul Alley." - -As he read, the judge watched Prosper's face to observe the effect of -these revelations. - -"Toward the close of 1858 she was employed as a servant by Madame -Munes, and accompanied her to Lisbon. How long she remained in Lisbon, -and what she did while she remained there, is not reported. But in -1861 she returned to Paris, and was sentenced to three months' -imprisonment for assault and battery. Ah, she returned from Portugal -with the name of Nina Gypsy." - -"But I assure you, monsieur," Prosper began. - -"Yes, I understand; this history is less romantic, doubtless, than the -one related to you; but then it has the merit of being true. We lose -sight of Palmyre Chocareille, called Gypsy, upon her release from -prison, but we meet her again six months later, having made the -acquaintance of a travelling agent named Caldas, who became infatuated -with her beauty, and furnished her a house near the Bastille. She -assumed his name for some time, then she deserted him to devote -herself to you. Did you ever hear of this Caldas?" - -"Never, monsieur." - -"This foolish man so deeply loved this creature that her desertion -drove him almost insane from grief. He was a very resolute man, and -publicly swore that he would kill his rival if he ever found him. The -current report afterward was, that he committed suicide. He certainly -sold the furniture of the House occupied by Chocareille, and suddenly -disappeared. All the efforts made to discover him proved fruitless." - -The judge stopped a moment as if to give Prosper time for reflection, -and then slowly said: - -"And this is the woman whom you made your companion, the woman for -whom you robbed the bank!" - -Once more M. Patrigent was on the wrong track, owing to Fanferlot's -incomplete information. - -He had hoped that Prosper would betray himself by uttering some -passionate retort when thus wounded to the quick; but he remained -impassible. Of all the judge said to him his mind dwelt upon only one -word--Caldas, the name of the poor travelling agent who had killed -himself. - -"At any rate," insisted M. Patrigent, "you will confess that this girl -has caused your ruin." - -"I cannot confess that, monsieur, for it is not true." - -"Yet she is the occasion of your extravagance. Listen." The judge here -drew a bill from the file of papers. "During December you paid her -dressmaker, Van Klopen, for two walking dresses, nine hundred francs; -one evening dress, seven hundred francs; one domino, trimmed with -lace, four hundred francs." - -"I spent this money cheerfully, but nevertheless I was not especially -attached to her." - -M. Patrigent shrugged his shoulders. - -"You cannot deny the evidence," said he. "I suppose you will also say -that it was not for this girl's sake you ceased spending your evenings -at M. Fauvel's?" - -"I swear that she was not the cause of my ceasing to visit M. Fauvel's -family." - -"Then why did you cease, suddenly, your attentions to a young lady -whom you confidently expected to marry, and whose hand you had written -to your father to demand for you?" - -"I had reasons which I cannot reveal," answered Prosper with emotion. - -The judge breathed freely; at last he had discovered a vulnerable -point in the prisoner's armor. - -"Did Mlle. Madeleine banish you?" - -Prosper was silent, and seemed agitated. - -"Speak," said M. Patrigent; "I must tell you that this circumstance is -one of the most important in your case." - -"Whatever the cost may be, on this subject I am compelled to keep -silence." - -"Beware of what you do; justice will not be satisfied with scruples of -conscience." - -M. Patrigent waited for an answer. None came. - -"You persist in your obstinacy, do you? Well, we will go on to the -next question. You have, during the last year, spent fifty thousand -francs. Your resources are at an end, and your credit is exhausted; to -continue your mode of life was impossible. What did you intend to do?" - -"I had no settled plan. I thought it might last as long as it would, -and then I----" - -"And then you would draw from the safe!" - -"Ah, monsieur, if I were guilty, I should not be here! I should never -have been such a fool as to return to the bank; I should have fled." - -M. Patrigent could not restrain a smile of satisfaction, and -exclaimed: - -"Exactly the argument I expected you to use. You showed your -shrewdness precisely by staying to face the storm, instead of flying -the country. Several recent suits have taught dishonest cashiers that -flight abroad is dangerous. Railways travel fast, but telegrams travel -faster. A French thief can be arrested in London within forty-eight -hours after his description has been telegraphed. Even America is no -longer a refuge. You remained prudently and wisely, saying to -yourself, 'I will manage to avoid suspicion; and, even if I am found -out, I shall be free again after three or five years' seclusion, with -a large fortune to enjoy.' Many people would sacrifice five years of -their lives for three hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -"But monsieur, had I calculated in the manner you describe, I should -not have been content with three hundred and fifty thousand francs; I -should have waited for an opportunity to steal half a million. I often -have that sum in charge." - -"Oh! it is not always convenient to wait." - -Prosper was buried in deep thought for some minutes. - -"Monsieur," he finally said, "there is one detail I forgot to mention -before, and it may be of importance." - -"Explain, if you please." - -"The office messenger whom I sent to the Bank of France for the money -must have seen me tie up the bundle, and put it away in the safe. At -any rate, he knows that I left the bank before he did." - -"Very well; the man shall be examined. Now you can return to your -cell; and once more I advise you to consider the consequences of your -persistent denial." - -M. Patrigent thus abruptly dismissed Prosper because he wished to -immediately act upon this last piece of information. - -"Sigault," said he as soon as Prosper had left the room, "is not this -Antonin the man who was excused from testifying because he sent a -doctor's certificate declaring him too ill to appear?" - -"It is, monsieur." - -"Where doe he live?" - -"Fanferlot says he was so ill that he was taken to the hospital--the -Dubois Hospital." - -"Very well. I am going to examine him to-day, this very hour. Take -your pen and paper, and send for a carriage." - -It was some distance from the Palais de Justice to the Dubois -Hospital; but the cabman, urged by the promise of a large fee, made -his sorry jades fly as if they were blooded horses. - -Would Antonin be able to answer any questions? - -The physician in charge of the hospital said that, although the man -suffered horribly from a broken knee, his mind was perfectly clear. - -"That being the case, monsieur," said the judge, "I wish to examine -him, and desire that no one be admitted while he makes his -deposition." - -"Oh! you will not be intruded upon, monsieur; his room contains four -beds, but they are just now unoccupied." - -When Antonin saw the judge enter, followed by a little weazened man in -black, with a portfolio under his arm, he at once knew what he had -come for. - -"Ah," he said, "monsieur comes to see me about M. Bertomy's case?" - -"Precisely." - -M. Patrigent remained standing by the sick-bed while Sigault arranged -his papers on a little table. - -In answer to the usual questions, the messenger swore that he was -named Antonin Poche, was forty years old, born at Cadaujac (Gironde), -and was unmarried. - -"Now," said the judge, "are you well enough to clearly answer any -questions I may put?" - -"Certainly, monsieur." - -"Did you, on the 27th of February, go to the Bank of France for the -three hundred and fifty thousand francs that were stolen?" - -"Yes, monsieur." - -"At what hour did you return with the money?" - -"It must have been five o'clock when I got back." - -"Do you remember what M. Bertomy did when you handed him the notes? -Now, do not be in a hurry; think before you answer." - -"Let me see: first he counted the notes, and made them into four -packages; then he put them in the safe; and then--it seems to me--and -then he locked the safe; and, yes, I am not mistaken, he went out!" - -He uttered these last words so quickly, that, forgetting his knee, he -half started up, but, with a cry of pain, sank back in bed. - -"Are you sure of what you say?" asked the judge. - -M. Patrigent's solemn tone seemed to frighten Antonin. - -"Sure?" he replied with marked hesitation, "I would bet my head on it, -yet I am not sure!" - -It was impossible for him to be more decided in his answers. He had -been frightened. He already imagined himself in difficulty, and for a -trifle would have retracted everything. - -But the effect was already produced; and when they retired M. -Patrigent said to Sigault: - -"This is a very important piece of evidence." - - - -VI - -The Archangel Hotel, Mme. Gypsy's asylum, was the most elegant -building on the Quai St. Michel. - -A person who pays her fortnight's board in advance is treated with -consideration at this hotel. - -Mme. Alexandre, who had been a handsome woman, was now stout, laced -till she could scarcely breathe, always over-dressed, and fond of -wearing a number of flashy gold chains around her fat neck. - -She had bright eyes and white teeth; but, alas, a red nose. Of all her -weaknesses, and Heaven knows she had indulged in every variety, only -one remained; she loved a good dinner, washed down with plenty of good -wine. - -She also loved her husband; and, about the time M. Patrigent was -leaving the hospital, she began to be worried that her "little man" -had not returned to dinner. She was about to sit down without him, -when the hotel-boy cried out: - -"Here is monsieur." - -And Fanferlot appeared in person. - -Three years before, Fanferlot had kept a little office of secret -intelligence; Mme. Alexandre was a trader without a license in -perfumery and toilet articles, and, finding it necessary to watch some -of her suspicious customers, engaged Fanferlot's services; this was -the origin of their acquaintance. - -If they went through the marriage ceremony for the good of the -mayoralty and the church, it was because they imagined it would, like -a baptism, wash out the sins of the past. - -Upon this momentous day, Fanferlot gave up his secret intelligence -office, and entered the police, where he had already been occasionally -employed, and Mme. Alexandre retired from trade. - -Uniting their savings, they hired and furnished the "Archangel," which -they were now carrying on prosperously well, esteemed by their -neighbors, who were ignorant of Fanferlot's connection with the police -force. - -"Why, how late you are, my little man!" she exclaimed, as she dropped -her knife and fork, and rushed forward to embrace him. - -He received her caresses with an air of abstraction. - -"My back is broken," he said. "I have been the whole day playing -billiards with Evariste, M. Fauvel's valet, and allowed him to win as -often as he wished, a man who does not know what 'the pool' is! I -became acquainted with him yesterday, and now I am his best friend. If -I wish to enter M. Fauvel's service in Antonin's place, I can rely -upon M. Evariste's good word." - -"What, you be an office messenger? you?" - -"Of course I would. How else am I to get an opportunity of studying my -characters, if I am not on the spot to watch them all the time?" - -"Then the valet gave you no news?" - -"He gave me none that I could make use of, and yet I turned him inside -out, like a glove. This banker is a remarkable man; you don't often -meet with one of his sort nowadays. Evariste says he has not a single -vice, not even a little defect by which his valet could gain ten sous. -He neither smokes, drinks, nor plays; in fact, he is a saint. He is -worth millions, and lives as respectably and quietly as a grocer. He -is devoted to his wife, adores his children, is lavishly hospitable, -and seldom goes into society." - -"Then his wife is young?" - -"She must be about fifty." - -Mme. Alexandre reflected a minute, then asked: - -"Did you inquire about the other members of the family?" - -"Certainly. The younger son is in the army. The elder son, Lucien, -lives with his parents, and is as proper as a young lady; so good, -indeed, that he is stupid." - -"And what about the niece?" - -"Evariste could tell me nothing about her." - -Mme. Alexandre shrugged her fat shoulders. - -"If you have discovered nothing, it is because there is nothing to be -discovered. Still, do you know what I would do, if I were you?" - -"Tell me." - -"I would consult with M. Lecoq." - -Fanferlot jumped up as if he had been shot. - -"Now, that's pretty advice! Do you want me to lose my place? M. Lecoq -does not suspect that I have anything to do with the case, except to -obey his orders." - -"Nobody told you to let him know you were investigating it on your own -account. You can consult him with an air of indifference, as if you -were not at all interested; and, after you have got his opinion, you -can take advantage of it." - -The detective weighed his wife's words, and then said: - -"Perhaps you are right; yet M. Lecoq is so devilishly shrewd, that he -might see through me." - -"Shrewd!" echoed Mme. Alexandre, "shrewd! All of you at the police -office say that so often, that he has gained his reputation by it: you -are just as sharp as he is." - -"Well, we will see. I will think the matter over; but, in the -meantime, what does the girl say?" - -The "girl" was Mme. Nina Gypsy. - -In taking up her abode at the Archangel, the poor girl thought she was -following good advice; and, as Fanferlot had never appeared in her -presence since, she was still under the impression that she had obeyed -a friend of Prosper's. When she received her summons from M. -Patrigent, she admired the wonderful skill of the police in -discovering her hiding-place; for she had established herself at the -hotel under a false, or rather her true name, Palmyre Chocareille. - -Artfully questioned by her inquisitive landlady, she had, without any -mistrust, confided her history to her. - -Thus Fanferlot was able to impress the judge with the idea of his -being a skilful detective, when he pretended to have discovered all -this information from a variety of sources. - -"She is still upstairs," answered Mme. Alexandre. "She suspects -nothing; but to keep her in her present ignorance becomes daily more -difficult. I don't know what the judge told her, but she came home -quite beside herself with anger. She wanted to go and make a fuss at -M. Fauvel's; then she wrote a letter which she told Jean to post for -her; but I kept it to show you." - -"What!" interrupted Fanferlot, "you have a letter, and did not tell me -before? Perhaps it contains the clew to the mystery. Give it to me, -quick." - -Obeying her husband, Mme. Alexandre opened a little cupboard, and took -out a letter which she handed to him. - -"Here, take it," she said, "and be satisfied." - -Considering that she used to be a chambermaid, Palmyre Chocareille, -since become Mme. Gypsy, wrote a good letter. - -It bore the following address, written in a free, flowing hand: - - - FOR M. L. DE CLAMERAN, -Forge-Master, Hotel du Louvre. - - To be handed to M. Raoul de Lagors. -(In great haste.) - - -"Oh, ho!" said Fanferlot, accompanying his exclamation with a little -whistle, as was his habit when he thought he had made a grand -discovery. "Oh, ho!" - -"Do you intend to open it?" questioned Mme. Alexandre. - -"A little bit," said Fanferlot, as he dexterously opened the envelope. - -Mme. Alexandre leaned over her husband's shoulder, and they both read -the following letter: - - - "MONSIEUR RAOUL--Prosper is in prison, accused of a robbery which - he never committed. I wrote to you three days ago." - - -"What!" interrupted Fanferlot, "this silly girl wrote, and I never saw -the letter?" - -"But, little man, she must have posted it herself, the day she went to -the Palais de Justice." - -"Very likely," said Fanferlot propitiated. He continued reading: - - - "I wrote to you three days ago, and have no reply. Who will help - Prosper if his best friends desert him? If you don't answer this - letter, I shall consider myself released from a certain promise, - and without scruple will tell Prosper of the conversation I - overheard between you and M. de Clameran. But I can count on you, - can I not? I shall expect you at the Archangel day after - to-morrow, between twelve and four. - -"NINA GYPSY" - - -The letter read, Fanferlot at once proceeded to copy it. - -"Well!" said Mme. Alexandre, "what do you think?" - -Fanferlot was delicately resealing the letter when the door of the -hotel office was abruptly opened, and the boy twice whispered, "Pst! -Pst!" - -Fanferlot rapidly disappeared into a dark closet. He had barely time -to close the door before Mme. Gypsy entered the room. - -The poor girl was sadly changed. She was pale and hollow-cheeked, and -her eyes were red with weeping. - -On seeing her, Mme. Alexandre could not conceal her surprise. - -"Why, my child, you are not going out?" - -"I am obliged to do so, madame; and I come to ask you to tell anyone -that may call during my absence to wait until I return." - -"But where in the world are you going at this hour, sick as you are?" - -For a moment Mme. Gypsy hesitated. - -"Oh," she said, "you are so kind that I am tempted to confide in you; -read this note which a messenger just now brought to me." - -"What!" cried Mme. Alexandre perfectly aghast: "a messenger enter my -house, and go up to your room!" - -"Is there anything surprising in that?" - -"Oh, oh, no! nothing surprising." - -And in a tone loud enough to be heard in the closet she read the note: - - - "A friend of Prosper who can neither receive you, nor present - himself at your house, is very anxious to speak to you. Be in the - stage-office opposite the Saint Jacques tower, to-night at nine - precisely, and the writer will approach, and tell you what he has - to say. - - "I have appointed this public place for the rendezvous so as to - relieve your mind of all fear." - - -"And you are going to this rendezvous?" - -"Certainly, madame." - -"But it is imprudent, foolish; it is a snare to entrap you." - -"It makes no difference," interrupted Gypsy. "I am so unfortunate -already that I have nothing more to dread. Any change would be a -relief." - -And, without waiting to hear any more, she went out. The door had -scarcely closed upon Mme. Gypsy, before Fanferlot bounced out of the -closet. - -The mild detective was white with rage, and swore violently. - -"What is the meaning of this?" he cried. "Am I to stand by and have -people walking over the Archangel, as if it were a public street?" - -Mme. Alexandre stood trembling, and dared not speak. - -"Was ever such impudence heard of before!" he continued. "A messenger -comes into my house, and goes upstairs without being seen by anybody! -I will look into this. And the idea of you, Mme. Alexandre, you, a -sensible woman, being idiotic enough to persuade that little viper not -to keep the appointment!" - -"But, my dear--" - -"Had you not sense enough to know that I would follow her, and -discover what she is attempting to conceal? Come, make haste, and help -me, so that she won't recognize me." - -In a few minutes Fanferlot was completely disguised by a thick beard, -a wig, and one of those long linen blouses worn by dishonest workmen, -who go about seeking labor, and, at the same time, hoping they may not -find any. - -"Have you your handcuffs?" asked the solicitous Mme. Alexandre. - -"Yes, yes: make haste and put that letter to M. de Clameran in the -post-office, and--and keep good watch." - -And without waiting for his wife's reply, who cried out, "Good luck!" -Fanferlot darted into the street. - -Mme. Gypsy had ten minutes' start of him; but he ran up the street he -knew she must have taken, and overtook her near the Change Bridge. - -She was walking with the uncertain gait of a person who, impatient to -be at a rendezvous, has started too soon, and is obliged to occupy the -intervening time; she would walk very rapidly, then retrace her -footsteps, and proceed slowly. - -On Chatelet Place she strolled up and down several times, read the -theatre-bills, and finally took a seat on a bench. One minute before a -quarter of nine, she entered the stage-office, and sat down. - -A moment after, Fanferlot entered; but, as he feared that Mme. Gypsy -might recognize him in spite of his heavy beard, he took a seat at the -opposite end of the room, in a dark corner. - -"Singular place for a conversation," he thought, as he watched the -young woman. "Who in the world could have made this appointment in a -stage-office? Judging from her evident curiosity and uneasiness, I -could swear she has not the faintest idea for whom she is waiting." - -Meanwhile, the office was gradually filling with people. Every minute -a man would shriek out the destination of an omnibus which had just -arrived, and the bewildered passengers would rush in to get tickets, -and inquire when the omnibus would leave. - -As each new-comer entered, Gypsy would tremble, and Fanferlot would -say, "This is he!" - -Finally, as the Hotel-de-Ville clock was striking nine, a man entered, -and, without going to the ticket-window, walked directly up to Gypsy, -bowed, and took a seat beside her. - -He was a medium-sized man, rather stout, with a crimson face, and -fiery-red whiskers. His dress was that of a well-to-do merchant, and -there was nothing in his manner or appearance to excite attention. - -Fanferlot watched him eagerly. - -"Well, my friend," he said to himself, "in future I shall recognize -you, no matter where we meet; and this very evening I will find out -who you are." - -Despite his intent listening, he could not hear a word spoken by the -stranger or Gypsy. All he could do was to judge by their pantomime and -countenances, what the subject of their conversation might be. - -When the stout man bowed and spoke to her, the girl looked so -surprised that it was evident she had never seen him before. When he -sat down by her, and said a few words, she jumped up with a frightened -look, as if seeking to escape. A single word and look made her resume -her seat. Then, as the stout man went on talking, Gypsy's attitude -betrayed great apprehension. She positively refused to do something; -then suddenly she seemed to consent, when he stated a good reason for -her so doing. At one moment she appeared ready to weep, and the next -her pretty face was illumined by a bright smile. Finally, she shook -hands with him, as if she was confirming a promise. - -"What can all that mean?" said Fanferlot to himself, as he sat in his -dark corner, biting his nails. "What an idiot I am to have stationed -myself so far off!" - -He was thinking how he could manage to approach nearer without -arousing their suspicions, when the fat man arose, offered his arm to -Mme. Gypsy, who accepted it without hesitation, and together they -walked toward the door. - -They were so engrossed with each other, that Fanferlot thought he -could, without risk, follow them; and it was well he did; for the -crowd was dense outside, and he would soon have lost them. - -Reaching the door, he saw the stout man and Gypsy cross the pavement, -approach a hackney-coach, and enter it. - -"Very good," muttered Fanferlot, "I've got them now. There is no use -of hurrying any more." - -While the coachman was gathering up his reins, Fanferlot prepared his -legs; and, when the coach started, he followed in a brisk trot, -determined upon following it to the end of the earth. - -The cab went up the Boulevard Sebastopol. It went pretty fast; but it -was not for nothing that Fanferlot had won the name of "Squirrel." -With his elbows glued to his sides, and holding his breath, he ran on. - -By the time he had reached the Boulevard St. Denis, he began to get -breathless, and stiff from a pain in his side. The cabman abruptly -turned into the Rue Faubourg St. Martin. - -But Fanferlot, who, at eight years of age, had been familiar with -every street in Paris, was not to be baffled: he was a man of -resources. He seized the springs of the coach, raised himself up by -the strength of his wrists, and hung on behind, with his legs resting -on the axle-tree of the back wheels. He was not quite comfortable, but -then, he no longer ran the risk of being distanced. - -"Now," he chuckled, behind his false beard, "you may drive as fast as -you please, M. Cabby." - -The man whipped up his horses, and drove furiously along the hilly -street of the Faubourg St. Martin. - -Finally the cab stopped in front of a wine-store, and the driver -jumped down from his seat, and went in. - -The detective also left his uncomfortable post, and crouching in a -doorway, waited for Gypsy and her companion to get out, with the -intention of following closely upon their heels. - -Five minutes passed, and still there were no signs of them. - -"What can they be doing all this time?" grumbled the detective. - -With great precautions, he approached the cab, and peeped in. - -Oh, cruel deception! it was empty! - -Fanferlot felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-water over -him; he remained rooted to the spot with his mouth stretched, the -picture of blank bewilderment. - -He soon recovered his wits sufficiently to burst forth in a volley of -oaths, loud enough to rattle all the window-panes in the neighborhood. - -"Tricked!" he said, "fooled! Ah! but won't I make them pay for this!" - -In a moment his quick mind had run over the gamut of possibilities, -probable and improbable. - -"Evidently," he muttered, "this fellow and Gypsy entered one door, and -got out of the other; the trick is simple enough. If they resorted to -it, 'tis because they feared being watched. If they feared being -watched, they have uneasy consciences: therefore--" - -He suddenly interrupted his monologue as the idea struck him that he -had better attempt to find out something from the driver. - -Unfortunately, the driver was in a very surly mood, and not only -refused to answer, but shook his whip in so threatening a manner that -Fanferlot deemed it prudent to beat a retreat. - -"Oh, Lord," he muttered, "perhaps he and the driver are one and the -same!" - -But what could he do now, at this time of night? He could not imagine. -He walked dejectedly back to the quay, and it was half-past eleven -when he reached his own door. - -"Has the little fool returned?" he inquired of Mme. Alexandre, the -instant she opened the door for him. - -"No; but here are two large bundles which have come for her." - -Fanferlot hastily opened the bundles. - -They contained three calico dresses, some coarse shoes, and some linen -caps. - -"Well," said the detective in a vexed tone, "now she is going to -disguise herself. Upon my word, I am getting puzzled! What can she be -up to?" - -When Fanferlot was sulkily walking down the Faubourg St. Martin, he -had fully made up his mind that he would not tell his wife of his -discomfiture. - -But once at home, confronted with a new fact of a nature to negative -all his conjectures, his vanity disappeared. He confessed everything-- -his hopes so nearly realized, his strange mischance, and his -suspicions. - -They talked the matter over, and finally decided that they would not -go to bed until Mme. Gypsy, from whom Mme. Alexandre was determined to -obtain an explanation of what had happened, returned. At one o'clock -the worthy couple were about giving over all hope of her -re-appearance, when they heard the bell ring. - -Fanferlot instantly slipped into the closet, and Mme. Alexandre -remained in the office to received Gypsy. - -"Here you are at last, my dear child!" she cried. "Oh, I have been so -uneasy, so afraid lest some misfortune had happened!" - -"Thanks for your kind interest, madame. Has a bundle been sent here -for me?" - -Poor Gypsy's appearance had strikingly changed; she was very sad, but -not as before dejected. To her melancholy of the last few days, had -succeeded a firm and generous resolution, which was betrayed in her -sparkling eyes and resolute step. - -"Yes, two bundles came for you; here they are. I suppose you saw M. -Bertomy's friend?" - -"Yes, madame; and his advice has so changed my plans, that, I regret -to say, I must leave you to-morrow." - -"Going away to-morrow! then something must have happened." - -"Oh! nothing that would interest you, madame." - -After lighting her candle at the gas-burner, Mme. Gypsy said "Good- -night" in a very significant way, and left the room. - -"And what do you think of that, Mme. Alexandre?" questioned Fanferlot, -emerging from his hiding-place. - -"It is incredible! This girl writes to M. de Clameran to meet her -here, and then does not wait for him." - -"She evidently mistrusts us; she knows who I am." - -"Then this friend of the cashier must have told her." - -"Nobody knows who told her. I shall end by believing that I am among a -gang of thieves. They think I am on their track, and are trying to -escape me. I should not be at all surprised if this little rogue has -the money herself, and intends to run off with it to-morrow." - -"That is not my opinion; but listen to me: you had better take my -advice, and consult M. Lecoq." - -Fanferlot meditated awhile, then exclaimed. - -"Very well; I will see him, just for your satisfaction; because I know -that, if I have discovered nothing, neither has he. But, if he -undertakes to be domineering, it won't do; for, if he shows his -insolence to me, /I/ will make him know his place!" - -Notwithstanding this brave speech, the detective passed an uneasy -night, and at six o'clock the next morning he was up--it was necessary -to rise very early if he wished to catch M. Lecoq at home--and, -refreshed by a cup of strong coffee, he directed his steps toward the -dwelling of the celebrated detective. - -Fanferlot the Squirrel certainly was not afraid of his patron, as he -called him; for he started out with his nose in the air, and his hat -cocked on one side. - -But by the time he reached the Rue Montmartre, where M. Lecoq lived, -his courage had vanished; he pulled his hat over his eyes, and hung -his head, as if looking for relief among the paving-stones. He slowly -ascended the steps, pausing several times, and looking around as if he -would like to fly. - -Finally he reached the third floor, and stood before a door decorated -with the arms of the famous detective--a cock, the symbol of -vigilance--and his heart failed him so that he had scarcely the -courage to ring the bell. - -The door was opened by Janouille, M. Lecoq's old servant, who had very -much the manner and appearance of a grenadier. She was as faithful to -her master as a watch-dog, and always stood ready to attack anyone who -did not treat him with the august respect which she considered his -due. - -"Well, M. Fanferlot," she said, "you come in time for once in your -life. Your patron wants to see you." - -Upon this announcement, Fanferlot was seized with a violent desire to -retreat. By what chance could Lecoq want anything of him? - -While he thus hesitated, Janouille seized him by the arm, and pulled -him in, saying: - -"Do you want to take root there? Come along, your patron is waiting -for you." - -In the middle of a large room curiously furnished, half library and -half green-room, was seated at a desk the same person with gold -spectacles, who had said to Prosper at the police-office, "Have -courage." - -This was M. Lecoq in his official character. - -Upon Fanferlot's entrance, as he advanced respectfully, bowing till -his backbone was a perfect curve, M. Lecoq laid down his pen, and -said, looking sharply at him: - -"Ah, here you are, young man. Well, it seems that you haven't made -much progress in the Bertomy case." - -"Why," murmured Fanferlot, "you know--" - -"I know that you have muddled everything until you can't see your way -out; so that you are ready to give up." - -"But, M. Lecoq, it was not I----" - -M. Lecoq arose, and walked up and down the room: suddenly he -confronted Fanferlot, and said, in a tone of scornful irony: - -"What would you think, Master Squirrel, of a man who abuses the -confidence of those who employ him, who reveals just enough to lead -the prosecution on the wrong scent, who sacrifices to his own foolish -vanity the cause of justice and the liberty of an unfortunate man?" - -Fanferlot started back with a frightened look. - -"I should say," he stammered, "I should say--" - -"You would say this man ought to be punished, and dismissed from his -employment; and you are right. The less a profession is honored, the -more honorable should those be who belong to it. And yet you have been -false to yours. Ah! Master Fanferlot, we are ambitious, and we try to -make the police force serve our own views! We let Justice stray her -way, and we go ours. One must be a more cunning bloodhound than you -are, my friend, to be able to hunt without a huntsman. You are too -self-reliant by half." - -"But, patron, I swear--" - -"Silence! Do you pretend to say that you did your duty, and told all -to the judge of instruction? Whilst others were informing against the -cashier, you undertook to inform against the banker. You watched his -movements: you became intimate with his valet." - -Was M. Lecoq really angry, or pretending to be? Fanferlot, who knew -him well, was puzzled to know whether all this indignation was real. - -"If you were only skilful," he continued, "but no: you wish to be -master, and you are not fit to be a journeyman." - -"You are right, patron," said Fanferlot, piteously, for he saw that it -was useless for him to deny anything. "But how could I go about an -affair like this, where there was not even a trace or sign to start -from?" - -M. Lecoq shrugged his shoulders. - -"You are an ass! Why, don't you know that on the very day you were -sent for with the commissary to verify the robbery, you held--I do not -say certainly, but very probably held--in your great stupid hands the -means of knowing which key had been used when the money was stolen?" - -"How! What!" - -"You want to know, do you? I will tell you. Do you remember the -scratch you discovered on the safe-door? You were so struck by it, -that you exclaimed directly you saw it. You carefully examined it, and -were convinced that it was a fresh scratch, only a few hours old. You -thought, and rightly too, that this scratch was made at the time of -the theft. Now, with what was it made? Evidently with a key. That -being the case, you should have asked for the keys both of the banker -and the cashier. One of them would have had some particles of the hard -green paint sticking to it." - -Fanferlot listened with open mouth to this explanation. At the last -words, he violently slapped his forehead with his hand, and cried out: - -"Imbecile! Imbecile!" - -"You have rightly named yourself," said M. Lecoq. "Imbecile! This -proof stares you right in the face, and you don't see it! This scratch -is the sole and only clew to work the case upon, and you must go and -lose the traces of it. If I find the guilty party, it will be by means -of this scratch; and I am determined that I will find him." - -At a distance the Squirrel very bravely abused and defied M. Lecoq; -but, in his presence, he yielded to the influence which this -extraordinary man exercised upon all who approached him. - -This exact information, these minute details of all his secret -movements, and even thoughts, so upset his mind that he could not -think where and how M. Lecoq had obtained them. Finally he said, -humbly: - -"You must have been looking up this case, patron?" - -"Probably I have; but I am not infallible, and may have overlooked -some important evidence. Take a seat, and tell me all you know." - -M. Lecoq was not the man to be hoodwinked, so Fanferlot told the exact -truth, a rare thing for him to do. However as he reached the end of -his statement, a feeling of mortified vanity prevented his telling how -he had been fooled by Gypsy and the stout man. - -Unfortunately for poor Fanferlot, M. Lecoq was always fully informed -on every subject in which he interested himself. - -"It seems to me, Master Squirrel, that you have forgotten something. -How far did you follow the empty coach?" - -Fanferlot blushed, and hung his head like a guilty school-boy. - -"Oh, patron!" he cried, "and you know about that too! How could you -have----" - -But a sudden idea flashed across his brain: he stopped short, bounded -off his chair, and cried: - -"Oh! I know now: you were the large gentleman with red whiskers." - -His surprise gave so singular an expression to his face that M. Lecoq -could not restrain a smile. - -"Then it was you," continued the bewildered detective; "you were the -large gentleman at whom I stared, so as to impress his appearance upon -my mind, and I never recognized you! Patron, you would make a superb -actor, if you would go on the stage; but I was disguised, too--very -well disguised." - -"Very poorly disguised; it is only just to you that I should let you -know what a failure it was, Fanferlot. Do you think that a heavy beard -and a blouse are a sufficient transformation? The eye is the thing to -be changed--the eye! The art lies in being able to change the eye. -That is the secret." - -This theory of disguise explained why the lynx-eyed Lecoq never -appeared at the police-office without his gold spectacles. - -"Then, patron," said Fanferlot, clinging to his idea, "you have been -more successful than Mme. Alexandre; you have made the little girl -confess? You know why she leaves the Archangel, why she does not wait -for M. de Clameran, and why she bought calico dresses?" - -"She is following my advice." - -"That being the case," said the detective dejectedly, "there is -nothing left for me to do, but to acknowledge myself an ass." - -"No, Squirrel," said M. Lecoq, kindly, "you are not an ass. You merely -did wrong in undertaking a task beyond your capacity. Have you -progressed one step since you started this affair? No. That shows -that, although you are incomparable as a lieutenant, you do not -possess the qualities of a general. I am going to present you with an -aphorism; remember it, and let it be your guide in the future: /A man -can shine in the second rank, who would be totally eclipsed in the -first/." - -Never had Fanferlot seen his patron so talkative and good-natured. -Finding his deceit discovered, he had expected to be overwhelmed with -a storm of anger; whereas he had escaped with a little shower that had -cooled his brain. Lecoq's anger disappeared like one of those heavy -clouds which threaten in the horizon for a moment, and then are -suddenly swept away by a gust of wind. - -But this unexpected affability made Fanferlot feel uneasy. He was -afraid that something might be concealed beneath it. - -"Do you know who the thief is, patron?" - -"I know no more than you do, Fanferlot; and you seem to have made up -your mind, whereas I am still undecided. You declare the cashier to be -innocent, and the banker guilty. I don't know whether you are right or -wrong. I started after you, and have only reached the preliminaries of -my search. I am certain of but one thing, and that is, that a scratch -was on the safe-door. That scratch is my starting-point." - -As he spoke, M. Lecoq took from his desk and unrolled an immense sheet -of drawing-paper. - -On this paper was photographed the door of M. Fauvel's safe. The -impression of every detail was perfect. There were the five movable -buttons with the engraved letters, and the narrow, projecting brass -lock: The scratch was indicated with great exactness. - -"Now," said M. Lecoq, "here is our scratch. It runs from top to -bottom, starting from the hole of the lock, diagonally, and, observe, -from left to right; that is to say, it terminates on the side next to -the private staircase leading to the banker's apartments. Although -very deep at the key-hole, it ends off in a scarcely perceptible -mark." - -"Yes, patron, I see all that." - -"Naturally you thought that this scratch was made by the person who -took the money. Let us see if you were right. I have here a little -iron box, painted with green varnish like M. Fauvel's safe; here it -is. Take a key, and try to scratch it." - -"The deuce take it!" he said after several attempts, "this paint is -awfully hard to move!" - -"Very hard, my friend, and yet that on the safe is still harder and -thicker. So you see the scratch you discovered could not have been -made by the trembling hand of a thief letting the key slip." - -"Sapristi!" exclaimed Fanferlot, stupefied: "I never should have -thought of that. It certainly required great force to make the deep -scratch on the safe." - -"Yes, but how was that force employed? I have been racking my brain -for three days, and only yesterday did I come to a conclusion. Let us -examine together, and see if our conjectures present enough chances of -probability to establish a starting-point." - -M. Lecoq abandoned the photograph, and, walking to the door -communicating with his bedroom, took the key from the lock, and, -holding it in his hand, said: - -"Come here, Fanferlot, and stand by my side: there; very well. Now -suppose that I want to open this door, and you don't want me to open -it; when you see me about to insert the key, what would be your first -impulse?" - -"To put my hands on your arm, and draw it toward me so as to prevent -your introducing the key." - -"Precisely so. Now let us try it; go on." Fanferlot obeyed; and the -key held by M. Lecoq, pulled aside from the lock, slipped along the -door, and traced upon it a diagonal scratch, from top to bottom, the -exact reproduction of the one in the photograph. - -"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Fanferlot in three different tones of -admiration, as he stood gazing in a revery at the door. - -"Do you begin to understand now?" asked M. Lecoq. - -"Understand, patron? Why, a child could understand it now. Ah, what a -man you are! I see the scene as if I had been present. Two persons -were present at the robbery; one wished to take the money, the other -wished to prevent its being taken. That is clear, that is certain." - -Accustomed to triumphs of this sort, M. Lecoq was much amused at -Fanferlot's enthusiasm. - -"There you go off, half-primed again," he said, good-humoredly: "you -regard as sure proof a circumstance which may be accidental, and at -the most only probable." - -"No, patron, no! a man like you could not be mistaken: doubt no longer -exists." - -"That being the case, what deductions would you draw from our -discovery?" - -"In the first place, it proves that I am correct in thinking the -cashier innocent." - -"How so?" - -"Because, at perfect liberty to open the safe whenever he wished to do -so, it is not likely that he would have brought a witness when he -intended to commit the theft." - -"Well reasoned, Fanferlot. But on this supposition the banker would be -equally innocent: reflect a little." - -Fanferlot reflected, and all of his animation vanished. - -"You are right," he said in a despairing tone. "What can be done now?" - -"Look for the third rogue, or rather the real rogue, the one who -opened the safe, and stole the notes, and who is still at large, while -others are suspected." - -"Impossible, patron--impossible! Don't you know that M. Fauvel and his -cashier had keys, and they only? And they always kept these keys in -their pockets." - -"On the evening of the robbery the banker left his key in the -secretary." - -"Yes; but the key alone was not sufficient to open the safe; the word -also must be known." - -M. Lecoq shrugged his shoulders impatiently. - -"What was the word?" he asked. - -"Gypsy." - -"Which is the name of the cashier's grisette. Now keep your eyes open. -The day you find a man sufficiently intimate with Prosper to be aware -of all the circumstances connected with this name, and at the same -time on a footing with the Fauvel family which would give him the -privilege of entering M. Fauvel's chamber, then, and not until then, -will you discover the guilty party. On that day the problem will be -solved." - -Self-sufficient and vain, like all famous men, M. Lecoq had never had -a pupil, and never wished to have one. He worked alone, because he -hated assistants, wishing to share neither the pleasures of success -nor the pain of defeat. - -Thus Fanferlot, who knew his patron's character, was surprised to hear -him giving advice, who heretofore had only given orders. - -He was so puzzled, that in spite of his pre-occupation he could not -help betraying his surprise. - -"Patron," he ventured to say, "you seem to take a great interest in -this affair, you have so deeply studied it." - -M. Lecoq started nervously, and replied, frowning: - -"You are too curious, Master Squirrel; be careful that you do not go -too far. Do you understand?" - -Fanferlot began to apologize. - -"That will do," interrupted M. Lecoq. "If I choose to lend you a -helping hand, it is because it suits my fancy to do so. It pleases me -to be the head, and let you be the hand. Unassisted, with your -preconceived ideas, you never would have found the culprit; if we two -together don't find him, my name is not Lecoq." - -"We shall certainly succeed if you interest yourself in the case." - -"Yes, I am interested in it, and during the last four days I have -discovered many important facts. But listen to me. I have reasons for -not appearing in this affair. No matter what happens, I forbid your -mentioning my name. If we succeed, all the success must be attributed -to you. And, above all, don't try to find out what I choose to keep -from you. Be satisfied with what explanations I give you. Now, be -careful." - -These conditions seemed quite to suit Fanferlot. - -"I will obey your instructions, and be discreet." - -"I shall rely upon you. Now, to begin, you must carry this photograph -to the judge of instruction. I know M. Patrigent is much perplexed -about this case. Explain to him, as if it were your own discovery, -what I have just shown you; repeat for his benefit the scene we have -acted, and I am convinced that this evidence will determine him to -release the cashier. Prosper must be at liberty before I can commence -my operations." - -"Of course, patron, but must I let him know that I suspect anyone -besides the banker or cashier?" - -"Certainly. Justice must not be kept in ignorance of your intention of -following up this affair. M. Patrigent will tell you to watch Prosper; -you will reply that you will not lose sight of him. I myself will -answer for his being in safe-keeping." - -"Suppose he asks me about Gypsy?" - -M. Lecoq hesitated for a moment. - -"Tell him," he finally said, "that you persuaded her, in the interest -of Prosper, to live in a house where she can watch someone whom you -suspect." - -Fanferlot was joyously picking up his hat to go, when M. Lecoq checked -him by waving his hand, and said: - -"I have not finished. Do you know how to drive a carriage and manage -horses?" - -"Why, patron, can you ask this of a man who used to be a rider in the -Bouthor Circus?" - -"Very well. As soon as the judge dismisses you, return home -immediately, make yourself a wig and the complete dress of a valet; -and, having dressed yourself, take this letter to the Agency on -Delorme Street." - -"But, patron--" - -"There must be no but, my friend; the agent will send you to M. de -Clameran, who is looking for a valet, his man having left him -yesterday." - -"Excuse me if I venture to suggest that you are making a mistake. This -Clameran is not the cashier's friend." - -"Why do you always interrupt me?" said M. Lecoq imperiously. "Do what -I tell you, and don't disturb your mind about the rest. Clameran is -not a friend of Prosper's, I know; but he is the friend and protector -of Raoul de Lagors. Why so? Whence the intimacy of these two men of -such different ages? That is what I must find out. I must also find -out who this forge-master is who lives in Paris, and never goes to -attend to his furnaces. A jolly fellow, who takes it into his head to -live at the Hotel du Louvre, in the midst of a tumultuous, ever- -changing crowd, is a fellow difficult to watch. Through you I will -have an eye upon him. He has a carriage, you are to drive it; and you -will soon be able to give me an account of his manner of life, and of -the sort of people with whom he associates." - -"You shall be obeyed, patron." - -"Another thing. M. de Clameran is irritable and suspicious. You will -be presented to him under the name of Joseph Dubois. He will demand -your certificate of good character. Here are three, which state that -you have lived with the Marquis de Sairmeuse and the Count de -Commarin, and that you have just left the Baron de Wortschen, who went -to Germany the other day. Now keep your eyes open; be careful of your -dress and manners. Be polite, but not excessively so. And, above all -things, don't be obsequious; it might arouse suspicion." - -"I understand, patron. Where shall I report to you?" - -"I will call on you every day. Until I tell you differently, don't -step foot in this house; you might be followed. If anything important -should happen, send a note to your wife, and she will inform me. Go, -and be prudent." - -The door closed on Fanferlot as M. Lecoq passed into his bedroom. - -In the twinkling of an eye he had divested himself of the appearance -of a police officer. He took off his stiff cravat and gold spectacles, -and removed the close wig from his thick black hair. The official -Lecoq had disappeared, leaving in his place the genuine Lecoq whom -nobody knew--a handsome young man, with a bold, determined manner, and -brilliant, piercing eyes. - -But he only remained himself for an instant. Seated before a dressing- -table covered with more cosmetics, paints, perfumes, false hair, and -other unmentionable shams, than are to be found on the toilet-tables -of our modern belles, he began to undo the work of nature, and make -himself a new face. - -He worked slowly, handling his brushes with great care. But in an hour -he had accomplished one of his daily masterpieces. When he had -finished, he was no longer Lecoq: he was the large gentleman with red -whiskers, whom Fanferlot had failed to recognize. - -"Well," he said, casting a last look in the mirror, "I have forgotten -nothing: I have left nothing to chance. All my plans are fixed; and I -shall make some progress to-day, provided the Squirrel does not waste -time." - -But Fanferlot was too happy to waste a minute. He did not run, he -flew, toward the Palais de Justice. - -At last he was now able to convince someone that he, Fanferlot, was a -man of wonderful perspicacity. - -As to acknowledging that he was about to obtain a triumph with the -ideas of another man, he never thought of it. It is generally in -perfect good faith that the jackdaw struts in the peacock's feathers. - -His hopes were not deceived. If the judge was not absolutely and fully -convinced, he admired the ingenuity and shrewdness of the whole -proceeding, and complimented the proud jackdaw upon his brilliancy. - -"This decides me," he said, as he dismissed Fanferlot. "I will make -out a favorable report to-day; and it is highly probable that the -accused will be released to-morrow." - -He began at once to write out one of these terrible decisions of "Not -proven," which restores liberty, but not honor, to the accused man; -which says that he is not guilty, but does not say he is innocent. - -"Whereas there do not exist sufficient charges against the accused, -Prosper Bertomy, in pursuance of Article 128 of the Criminal Code, we -hereby declare that we find no grounds for prosecution against the -aforesaid prisoner at this present time; and we order that he shall be -released from the prison where he is confined, and set at liberty by -the jailer," etc. - -"Well," he said to the clerk, "here is another one of those crimes -which justice cannot clear up. The mystery remains to be solved. This -is another file to be stowed away among the archives of the record- -office." - -And with his own hand he wrote on the cover of the bundle of papers -relating to Prosper's case, the number of the package, File No. 113. - - - -VII - -Prosper had been languishing in his private cell for nine days, when -on Thursday morning the jailer came to inform him of the judge's -decision. He was conducted before the officer who had searched him -when he was arrested; and the contents of his pocket, his watch, -penknife, and several little pieces of jewelry, were restored to him; -then he was told to sign a large sheet of paper, which he did. - -He was next led across a dark passage, and almost pushed through a -door, which was abruptly shut upon him. - -He found himself on the quay: he was alone; he was free. - -Free! Justice had confessed her inability to convict him of the crime -of which he was accused. - -Free! He could walk about, he could breathe the pure air; but every -door would be closed against him. - -Only acquittal after due trial would restore him to his former -position among men. - -A decision of "Not proven" had left him covered with suspicion. - -The torments inflicted by public opinion are more fearful than those -suffered in a prison cell. - -At the moment of his restoration to liberty, Prosper so cruelly -suffered from the horror of his situation, that he could not repress a -cry of rage and despair. - -"I am innocent! God knows I am innocent!" he cried out. But of what -use was his anger? - -Two strangers, who were passing, stopped to look at him, and said, -pityingly, "He is crazy." - -The Seine was at his feet. A thought of suicide crossed his mind. - -"No," he said, "no! I have not even the right to kill myself. No: I -will not die until I have vindicated my innocence!" - -Often, day and night, had Prosper repeated these words, as he walked -his cell. With a heart filled with a bitter, determined thirst for -vengeance, which gives a man the force and patience to destroy or wear -out all obstacles in his way, he would say, "Oh! why am I not at -liberty? I am helpless, caged up; but let me once be free!" - -Now he was free; and, for the first time, he saw the difficulties of -the task before him. For each crime, justice requires a criminal: he -could not establish his own innocence without producing the guilty -man; how find the thief so as to hand him over to the law? - -Discouraged, but not despondent, he turned in the direction of his -apartments. He was beset by a thousand anxieties. What had taken place -during the nine days that he had been cut off from all intercourse -with his friends? No news of them had reached him. He had heard no -more of what was going on in the outside world, than if his secret -cell had been a grave. - -He slowly walked along the streets, with his eyes cast down dreading -to meet some familiar face. He, who had always been so haughty, would -now be pointed at with the finger of scorn. He would be greeted with -cold looks and averted faces. Men would refuse to shake hands with -him. He would be shunned by honest people, who have no patience with a -thief. - -Still, if he could count on only one true friend! Yes: he was sure of -one. But what friend would believe him when his father, who should -have been the last to suspect him, had refused to believe him? - -In the midst of his sufferings, when he felt almost overwhelmed by the -sense of his wretched, lonely condition, he thought of Gypsy. - -He had never loved the poor girl: indeed, at times he almost hated -her; but now he felt a longing to see her. He wished to be with her, -because he knew that she loved him, and that nothing would make her -believe him guilty; because he knew that a woman remains true and firm -in her faith, and is always faithful in the hour of adversity, -although she sometimes fails in prosperity. - -On entering the Rue Chaptal, Prosper saw his own door, but hesitated -to enter it. - -He suffered from the timidity which an honest man always feels when he -knows he is viewed with suspicion. - -He dreaded meeting anyone whom he knew; yet he could not remain in the -street. He entered. - -When the porter saw him, he uttered an exclamation of glad surprise, -and said: - -"Ah, here you are at last, monsieur. I told everyone you would come -out as white as snow; and, when I read in the papers that you were -arrested for robbery, I said, 'My third-floor lodger a thief! Never -would I believe such a thing, never!'" - -The congratulations of this ignorant man were sincere, and offered -from pure kindness of heart; but they impressed Prosper painfully, and -he cut them short by abruptly asking: - -"Madame of course has left: can you tell me where she has gone?" - -"Dear me, no, monsieur. The day of your arrest, she sent for a hack, -got into it with her trunks, and disappeared; and no one has seen or -heard of her since." - -This was another blow to the unhappy cashier. - -"And where are my servants?" - -"Gone, monsieur; your father paid and discharged them." - -"I suppose you have my keys?" - -"No, monsieur; when your father left here this morning at eight -o'clock, he told me that a friend of his would take charge of your -rooms until you should return. Of course you know who he is--a stout -gentleman with red whiskers." - -Prosper was stupefied. What could be the meaning of one of his -father's friends being in his rooms? He did not, however, betray any -surprise, but quietly said: - -"Yes: I know who it is." - -He quickly ran up the stairs, and knocked at his door. - -It was opened by his father's friend. - -He had been accurately described by the porter. A fat man, with a red -face, sensual lips, brilliant eyes, and of rather coarse manners, -stood bowing to Prosper, who had never seen him before. - -"Delighted to make your acquaintance, monsieur," said he to Prosper. - -He seemed to be perfectly at home. On the table lay a book, which he -had taken from the bookcase; and he appeared ready to do the honors of -the house. - -"I must say, monsieur," began Prosper. - -"That you are surprised to find me here? So I suppose. Your father -intended introducing me to you; but he was compelled to return to -Beaucaire this morning; and let me add that he departed thoroughly -convinced, as I myself am, that you never took a cent from M. Fauvel." - -At this unexpected good news, Prosper's face lit up with pleasure. - -"Here is a letter from your father, which I hope will serve as an -introduction between us." - -Prosper opened the letter; and as he read his eyes grew brighter, and -a slight color returned to his pale face. - -When he had finished, he held out his hand to the large gentleman, and -said: - -"My father, monsieur, tells me you are his best friend; he advises me -to have absolute confidence in you, and follow your counsel." - -"Exactly. This morning your father said to me, 'Verduret'--that is my -name--'Verduret, my son is in great trouble, he must be helped out.' I -replied, 'I am ready,' and here I am to help you. Now the ice is -broken, is it not? Then let us go to work at once. What do you intend -to do?" - -This question revived Prosper's slumbering rage. His eyes flashed. - -"What do I intend to do?" he said, angrily: "what should I do but seek -the villain who has ruined me?" - -"So I supposed; but have you any hopes of success?" - -"None; yet I shall succeed, because, when a man devotes his whole life -to the accomplishment of an object, he is certain to achieve it." - -"Well said, M. Prosper; and, to be frank, I fully expected that this -would be your purpose. I have therefore already begun to think and act -for you. I have a plan. In the first place, you will sell this -furniture, and disappear from the neighborhood." - -"Disappear!" cried Prosper, indignantly, "disappear! Why, monsieur? Do -you not see that such a step would be a confession of guilt, would -authorize the world to say that I am hiding so as to enjoy undisturbed -the stolen fortune?" - -"Well, what then?" said the man with the red whiskers; "did you not -say just now the sacrifice of your life is made? The skilful swimmer -thrown into the river by malefactors is careful not to rise to the -surface immediately: on the contrary, he plunges beneath, and remains -there as long as his breath holds out. He comes up again at a great -distance, and lands out of sight; then, when he is supposed to be -dead, lost forever to the sight of man, he rises up and has his -vengeance. You have an enemy? Some petty imprudence will betray him. -But, while he sees you standing by on the watch, he will be on his -guard." - -It was with a sort of amazed submission that Prosper listened to this -man, who, though a friend of his father, was an utter stranger to -himself. - -He submitted unconsciously to the ascendency of a nature so much more -energetic and forcible than his own. In his helpless condition he was -grateful for friendly assistance, and said: - -"I will follow your advice, monsieur." - -"I was sure you would, my dear friend. Let us reflect upon the course -you should pursue. And remember that you will need every cent of the -proceeds of the sale. Have you any ready money? no, but you must have -some. Knowing that you would need it at once, I brought an upholsterer -here; and he will give twelve thousand francs for everything excepting -the pictures." - -The cashier could not refrain from shrugging his shoulders, which M. -Verduret observed. - -"Well," said he, "it is rather hard, I admit, but it is a necessity. -Now listen: you are the invalid, and I am the doctor charged to cure -you; if I cut to the quick, you will have to endure it. It is the only -way to save you." - -"Cut away then, monsieur," answered Prosper. - -"Well, we will hurry, for time passes. You have a friend, M. de -Lagors?" - -"Raoul? Yes, monsieur, he is an intimate friend." - -"Now tell me, who is this fellow?" - -The term "fellow" seemed to offend Prosper. - -"M. de Lagors, monsieur," he said, haughtily, "is M. Fauvel's nephew; -he is a wealthy young man, handsome, intelligent, cultivated, and the -best friend I have." - -"Hum!" said M. Verduret, "I shall be delighted to make the -acquaintance of one adorned by so many charming qualities. I must let -you know that I wrote him a note in your name asking him to come here, -and he sent word that he would be here directly." - -"What! do you suppose--" - -"Oh, I suppose nothing! Only I must see this young man. Also, I have -arranged and will submit to you a little plan of conversation--" - -A ring at the front door interrupted M. Verduret. - -"Sacrebleu! adieu to my plan; here he is! Where can I hide so as to -hear and see?" - -"There, in my bedroom; leave the door open and the curtain down." - -A second ring was heard. - -"Now remember, Prosper," said M. Verduret in a warning tone, "not one -word to this man about your plans, or about me. Pretend to be -discouraged, helpless, and undecided what to do." - -And he disappeared behind the curtain, as Prosper ran to open the -door. - -Prosper's portrait of M. de Lagors had not been an exaggerated one. So -handsome a face and manly a figure could belong only to a noble -character. - -Although Raoul said that he was twenty-four, he appeared to be not -more than twenty. He had a superb figure, well knit and supple; a -beautiful white brow, shaded by soft chestnut curly hair, soft blue -eyes which beamed with frankness. - -His first impulse was to throw himself into Prosper's arms. - -"My poor, dear friend!" he said, "my poor Prosper!" - -But beneath these affectionate demonstrations there was a certain -constraint, which, if it escaped the cashier, was noticed by M. -Verduret. - -"Your letter, my dear Prosper," said Raoul, "made me almost ill, I was -so frightened by it. I asked myself if you could have lost your mind. -Then I left everything, to fly to your assistance; and here I am." - -Prosper did not seem to hear him; he was pre-occupied about the letter -which he had not written. What were its contents? Who was this -stranger whose assistance he had accepted? - -"You must not feel discouraged," continued M. de Lagors: "you are -young enough to commence life anew. Your friends are still left to -you. I have come to say to you, Rely upon me; I am rich, half of my -fortune is at your disposal." - -This generous offer, made at a moment like this with such frank -simplicity, deeply touched Prosper. - -"Thanks, Raoul," he said with emotion, "thank you! But unfortunately -all the money in the world would be of no use now." - -"Why so? What are you going to do? Do you propose to remain in Paris?" - -"I know not, Raoul. I have made no plans yet. My mind is too confused -for me to think." - -"I will tell you what to do," replied Raoul quickly, "you must start -afresh; until this mysterious robbery is explained you must keep away -from Paris. It will never do for you to remain here." - -"And suppose it never should be explained?" - -"Only the more reason for your remaining in oblivion. I have been -talking about you to Clameran. 'If I were in Prosper's place,' he -said, 'I would turn everything into money, and embark for America; -there I would make a fortune, and return to crush with my millions -those who have suspected me.'" - -This advice offended Prosper's pride, but he said nothing. He was -thinking of what the stranger had said to him. - -"I will think it over," he finally forced himself to say. "I will see. -I would like to know what M. Fauvel says." - -"My uncle? I suppose you know that I have declined the offer he made -me to enter his banking-house, and we have almost quarrelled. I have -not set foot in his house for over a month; but I hear of him -occasionally." - -"Through whom?" - -"Through your friend Cavaillon. My uncle, they say, is more distressed -by this affair than you are. He does not attend to his business, and -wanders about as if he had lost every friend on earth." - -"And Mme. Fauvel, and"--Prosper hesitated--"and Mlle. Madeleine, how -are they?" - -"Oh," said Raoul lightly, "my aunt is as pious as ever; she has mass -said for the benefit of the sinner. As to my handsome, icy cousin, she -cannot bring herself down to common matters, because she is entirely -absorbed in preparing for the fancy ball to be given day after -to-morrow by MM. Jandidier. She has discovered, so one of her friends -told me, a wonderful dressmaker, a stranger who has suddenly appeared -from no one knows where, who is making a costume of Catherine de -Medici's maid of honor; and it is to be a marvel of beauty." - -Excessive suffering brings with it a sort of dull insensibility and -stupor; and Prosper thought that there was nothing left to be -inflicted upon him, and had reached that state of impassibility from -which he never expected to be aroused, when this last remark of M. de -Lagors made him cry out with pain: - -"Madeleine! Oh, Madeleine!" - -M. de Lagors, pretending not to have heard him, rose from his chair, -and said: - -"I must leave you now, my dear Prosper; on Saturday I will see these -ladies at the ball, and will bring you news of them. Now, do have -courage, and remember that, whatever happens, you have a friend in -me." - -Raoul shook Prosper's hand, closed the door after him, and hurried up -the street, leaving Prosper standing immovable and overcome by -disappointment. - -He was aroused from his gloomy revery by hearing the red-whiskered man -say, in a bantering tone: - -"So these are your friends." - -"Yes," said Prosper with bitterness. "You heard him offer me half his -fortune?" - -M. Verduret shrugged his shoulders with an air of compassion. - -"That was very stingy on his part," he said, "why did he not offer the -whole? Offers cost nothing; although I have no doubt that this sweet -youth would cheerfully give ten thousand francs to put the ocean -between you and him." - -"Monsieur! what reason?" - -"Who knows? Perhaps for the same reason that he had not set foot in -his uncle's house for a month." - -"But that is the truth, monsieur, I am sure of it." - -"Naturally," said M. Verduret with a provoking smile. "But," he -continued with a serious air, "we have devoted enough time to this -Adonis. Now, be good enough to change your dress, and we will go and -call on M. Fauvel." - -This proposal seemed to stir up all of Prosper's anger. - -"Never!" he exclaimed with excitement, "no, never will I voluntarily -set eyes on that wretch!" - -This resistance did not surprise M. Verduret. - -"I can understand your feelings toward him," said he, "but at the same -time I hope you will change your mind. For the same reason that I -wished to see M. de Lagors, do I wish to see M. Fauvel; it is -necessary, you understand. Are you so very weak that you cannot put a -constraint upon yourself for five minutes? I shall introduce myself as -one of your relatives, and you need not open your lips." - -"If it is positively necessary," said Prosper, "if--" - -"It is necessary; so come on. You must have confidence, put on a brave -face. Hurry and fix yourself up a little; it is getting late, and I am -hungry. We will breakfast on our way there." - -Prosper had hardly passed into his bedroom when the bell rang again. -M. Verduret opened the door. It was the porter, who handed him a thick -letter, and said: - -"This letter was left this morning for M. Bertomy; I was so flustered -when he came that I forgot to hand it to him. It is a very odd-looking -letter; is it not, monsieur?" - -It was indeed a most peculiar missive. The address was not written, -but formed of printed letters, carefully cut from a book, and pasted -on the envelope. - -"Oh, ho! what is this?" cried M. Verduret; then turning toward the -porter he cried, "Wait." - -He went into the next room, and closed the door behind him; there he -found Prosper, anxious to know what was going on. - -"Here is a letter for you," said M. Verduret. - -He at once tore open the envelope. - -Some bank-notes dropped out; he counted them; there were ten. - -Prosper's face turned purple. - -"What does this mean?" he asked. - -"We will read the letter and find out," replied M. Verduret. - -The letter, like the address, was composed of printed words cut out -and pasted on a sheet of paper. - -It was short but explicit: - - - "MY DEAR PROSPER--A friend, who knows the horror of your situation, - sends you this succor. There is one heart, be assured, that shares - your sufferings. Go away; leave France; you are young; the future - is before you. Go, and may this money bring you happiness!" - - -As M. Verduret read the note, Prosper's rage increased. He was angry -and perplexed, for he could not explain the rapidly succeeding events -which were so calculated to mystify his already confused brain. - -"Everybody wishes me to go away," he cried; "then there must be a -conspiracy against me." - -M. Verduret smiled with satisfaction. - -"At last you begin to open your eyes, you begin to understand. Yes, -there are people who hate you because of the wrong they have done you; -there are people to whom your presence in Paris is a constant danger, -and who will not feel safe till they are rid of you." - -"But who are these people, monsieur? Tell me, who dares send this -money?" - -"If I knew, my dear Prosper, my task would be at an end, for then I -would know who committed the robbery. But we will continue our -searches. I have finally procured evidence which will sooner or later -become convincing proof. I have heretofore only made deductions more -or less probable; I now possess knowledge which proves that I was not -mistaken. I walked in darkness: now I have a light to guide me." - -As Prosper listened to M. Verduret's reassuring words, he felt hope -arising in his breast. - -"Now," said M. Verduret, "we must take advantage of this evidence, -gained by the imprudence of our enemies, without delay. We will begin -with the porter." - -He opened the door and called out: - -"I say, my good man, step here a moment." - -The porter entered, looking very much surprised at the authority -exercised over his lodger by this stranger. - -"Who gave you this letter?" said M. Verduret. - -"A messenger, who said he was paid for bringing it." - -"Do you know him?" - -"I know him well; he is the errand-runner who keeps his cart at the -corner of the Rue Pigalle." - -"Go and bring him here." - -After the porter had gone, M. Verduret drew from his pocket his diary, -and compared a page of it with the notes which he had spread over the -table. - -"These notes were not sent by the thief," he said, after an attentive -examination of them. - -"Do you think so, monsieur?" - -"I am certain of it; that is, unless the thief is endowed with -extraordinary penetration and forethought. One thing is certain: these -ten thousand francs are not part of the three hundred and fifty -thousand which were stolen from the safe." - -"Yet," said Prosper, who could not account for this certainty on the -part of his protector, "yet----" - -"There is no doubt about it: I have the numbers of all the stolen -notes." - -"What! When even I did not have them?" - -"But the bank did, fortunately. When we undertake an affair we must -anticipate everything, and forget nothing. It is a poor excuse for a -man to say, 'I did not think of it' when he commits some oversight. I -thought of the bank." - -If, in the beginning, Prosper had felt some repugnance about confiding -in his father's friend, the feeling had now disappeared. - -He understood that alone, scarcely master of himself, governed only by -the inspirations of inexperience, never would he have the patient -perspicacity of this singular man. - -Verduret continued talking to himself, as if he had absolutely -forgotten Prosper's presence: - -"Then, as this package did not come from the thief, it can only come -from the other person, who was near the safe at the time of the -robbery, but could not prevent it, and now feels remorse. The -probability of two persons assisting at the robbery, a probability -suggested by the scratch, is now converted into undeniable certainty. -/Ergo/, I was right." - -Prosper listening attentively tried hard to comprehend this monologue, -which he dared not interrupt. - -"Let us seek," went on the fat man, "this second person, whose -conscience pricks him, and yet who dares not reveal anything." - -He read the letter over several times, scanning the sentences, and -weighing every word. - -"Evidently this letter was composed by a woman," he finally said. -"Never would one man doing another man a service, and sending him -money, use the word 'succor.' A man would have said, loan, money, or -some other equivalent, but succor, never. No one but a woman, ignorant -of masculine susceptibilities, would have naturally made use of this -word to express the idea it represents. As to the sentence, 'There is -one heart,' and so on, it could only have been written by a woman." - -"You are mistaken, monsieur," said Prosper: "no woman is mixed up in -this affair." - -M. Verduret paid no attention to this interruption, perhaps he did not -hear it; perhaps he did not care to argue the matter. - -"Now, let us see if we can discover whence the printed words were -taken to compose this letter." - -He approached the window, and began to study the pasted words with all -the scrupulous attention which an antiquarian would devote to an old, -half-effaced manuscript. - -"Small type," he said, "very slender and clear; the paper is thin and -glossy. Consequently, these words have not been cut from a newspaper, -magazine, or even a novel. I have seen type like this, I recognize it -at once; Didot often uses it, so does Mme. de Tours." - -He stopped with his mouth open, and eyes fixed, appealing laboriously -to his memory. - -Suddenly he struck his forehead exultantly. - -"Now I have it!" he cried; "now I have it! Why did I not see it at -once? These words have all been cut from a prayer-book. We will look, -at least, and then we shall be certain." - -He moistened one of the words pasted on the paper with his tongue, -and, when it was sufficiently softened, he detached it with a pin. On -the other side of this word was printed a Latin word, /Deus/. - -"Ah, ha," he said with a little laugh of satisfaction. "I knew it. -Father Taberet would be pleased to see this. But what has become of -the mutilated prayer-book? Can it have been burned? No, because a -heavy-bound book is not easily burned. It is thrown in some corner." - -M. Verduret was interrupted by the porter, who returned with the -messenger from the Rue Pigalle. - -"Ah, here you are," he said encouragingly. Then he showed the envelope -of the letter, and said: - -"Do you remember bringing this letter here this morning?" - -"Perfectly, monsieur. I took particular notice of the direction; we -don't often see anything like it." - -"Who told you to bring it? a gentleman, or a lady?" - -"Neither, monsieur; it was a porter." - -This reply made the porter laugh very much, but not a muscle of M. -Verduret's face moved. - -"A porter? Well, do you know this colleague of yours." - -"I never even saw him before." - -"How does he look?" - -"He was neither tall nor short; he wore a green vest, and his medal." - -"Your description is so vague that it would suit every porter in the -city; but did your colleague tell you who sent the letter?" - -"No, monsieur. He only put ten sous in my hand, and said, 'Here, carry -this to No. 39, Rue Chaptal: a coachman on the boulevard handed it to -me.' Ten sous! I warrant you he made more than that by it." - -This answer seemed to disconcert M. Verduret. So many precautions -taken in sending the letter disturbed him, and disarranged his plans. - -"Do you think you would recognize the porter again?" - -"Yes, monsieur, if I saw him." - -"How much do you gain a day as a porter?" - -"I can't tell exactly; but my corner is a good stand, and I am busy -doing errands nearly all day. I suppose I make from eight to ten -francs." - -"Very well; I will give you ten francs a day if you will walk about -the streets, and look for the porter who brought this letter. Every -evening, at eight o'clock, come to the Archangel, on the Quai Saint -Michel, give me a report of your search, and receive your pay. Ask for -M. Verduret. If you find the man I will give you fifty francs. Do you -accept?" - -"I rather think I will, monsieur." - -"Then don't lose a minute. Start off!" - -Although ignorant of M. Verduret's plans, Prosper began to comprehend -the sense of his investigations. His fate depended upon their success, -and yet he almost forgot this fact in his admiration of this singular -man; for his energy, his bantering coolness when he wished to discover -anything, the surety of his deductions, the fertility of his -expedients, and the rapidity of his movements, were astonishing. - -"Monsieur," said Prosper when the porter had left the room, "do you -still think you see a woman's hand in this affair?" - -"More than ever; and a pious woman too, and a woman who has two -prayer-books, since she could cut up one to write to you." - -"And you hope to find the mutilated book?" - -"I do, thanks to the opportunity I have of making an immediate search; -which I will set about at once." - -Saying this, he sat down, and rapidly scratched off a few lines on a -slip of paper, which he folded up, and put in his vest-pocket. - -"Are you ready to go to M. Fauvel's? Yes? Come on, then; we have -certainly earned our breakfast to-day." - - - -VIII - -When Raoul de Lagors spoke of M. Fauvel's extraordinary dejection, he -had not exaggerated. - -Since the fatal day when, upon his denunciation, his cashier had been -arrested, the banker, this active, energetic man of business, had been -a prey to the most gloomy melancholy, and absolutely refused to take -any interest in his affairs, seldom entering the banking-house. - -He, who had always been so domestic, never came near his family except -at meals, when he would swallow a few mouthfuls, and hastily leave the -room. - -Shut up in his study, he would deny himself to visitors. His anxious -countenance, his indifference to everybody and everything, his -constant reveries and fits of abstraction, betrayed the preoccupation -of some fixed idea, or the tyrannical empire of some hidden sorrow. - -The day of Prosper's release, about three o'clock, M. Fauvel was, as -usual, seated in his study, with his elbows resting on the table, and -his face buried in his hands, when his office-boy rushed in, and with -a frightened look said: - -"Monsieur, the former cashier, M. Bertomy, is here with one of his -relatives; he says he must see you on business." - -The banker at these words started up as if he had been shot. - -"Prosper!" he cried in a voice choked by anger, "what! does he dare--" - -Then remembering that he ought to control himself before his servant, -he waited a few moments, and then said, in a tone of forced calmness: - -"Ask them to walk in." - -If M. Verduret had counted upon witnessing a strange and affecting -sight, he was not disappointed. - -Nothing could be more terrible than the attitude of these two men as -they stood confronting each other. The banker's face was almost purple -with suppressed anger, and he looked as if about to be struck by -apoplexy. Prosper was as pale and motionless as a corpse. - -Silent and immovable, they stood glaring at each other with mortal -hatred. - -M. Verduret curiously watched these two enemies, with the indifference -and coolness of a philosopher, who, in the most violent outbursts of -human passion, merely sees subjects for meditation and study. - -Finally, the silence becoming more and more threatening, he decided to -break it by speaking to the banker: - -"I suppose you know, monsieur, that my young relative has just been -released from prison." - -"Yes," replied M. Fauvel, making an effort to control himself, "yes, -for want of sufficient proof." - -"Exactly so, monsieur, and this want of proof, as stated in the -decision of 'Not proven,' ruins the prospects of my relative, and -compels him to leave here at once for America." - -M. Fauvel's features relaxed as if he had been relieved of some -fearful agony. - -"Ah, he is going away," he said, "he is going abroad." - -There was no mistaking the resentful, almost insulting intonation of -the words, "going away!" - -M. Verduret took no notice of M. Fauvel's manner. - -"It appears to me," he continued, in an easy tone, "that Prosper's -determination is a wise one. I merely wished him, before leaving -Paris, to come and pay his respects to his former chief." - -The banker smiled bitterly. - -"M. Bertomy might have spared us both this painful meeting. I have -nothing to say to him, and of course he can have nothing to tell me." - -This was a formal dismissal; and M. Verduret, understanding it thus, -bowed to M. Fauvel, and left the room, accompanied by Prosper, who had -not opened his lips. - -They had reached the street before Prosper recovered the use of his -tongue. - -"I hope you are satisfied, monsieur," he said, in a gloomy tone; "you -exacted this painful step, and I could only acquiesce. Have I gained -anything by adding this humiliation to the others which I have -suffered?" - -"You have not, but I have," replied M. Verduret. "I could find no way -of gaining access to M. Fauvel, save through you; and now I have found -out what I wanted to know. I am convinced that M. Fauvel had nothing -to do with the robbery." - -"Oh, monsieur!" objected Prosper, "innocence can be feigned." - -"Certainly, but not to this extent. And this is not all. I wished to -find out if M. Fauvel would be accessible to certain suspicions. I am -now confident that he is." - -Prosper and his companion had stopped to talk more at their ease, near -the corner of the Rue Lafitte, in the middle of a large space which -had lately been cleared by pulling down an old house. - -M. Verduret seemed to be anxious, and was constantly looking around as -if he expected someone. - -He soon uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. - -At the other end of the vacant space, he saw Cavaillon, who was -bareheaded and running. - -He was so excited that he did not even stop to shake hands with -Prosper, but darted up to M. Verduret, and said: - -"They have gone, monsieur!" - -"How long since?" - -"They went about a quarter of an hour ago." - -"The deuce they did! Then we have not an instant to lose." - -He handed Cavaillon the note he had written some hours before at -Prosper's house. - -"Here, send him this, and then return at once to your desk; you might -be missed. It was very imprudent in you to come out without your hat." - -Cavaillon ran off as quickly as he had come. Prosper was stupefied. - -"What!" he exclaimed. "You know Cavaillon?" - -"So it seems," answered M. Verduret with a smile, "but we have no time -to talk; come on, hurry!" - -"Where are we gong now?" - -"You will soon know; walk fast!" - -And he set the example by striding rapidly toward the Rue Lafayette. -As they went along he continued talking more to himself than to -Prosper. - -"Ah," said he, "it is not by putting both feet in one shoe, that one -wins a race. The track once found, we should never rest an instant. -When the savage discovers the footprints of an enemy, he follows it -persistently, knowing that falling rain or a gust of wind may efface -the footprints at any moment. It is the same with us: the most -trifling incident may destroy the traces we are following up." - -M. Verduret suddenly stopped before a door bearing the number 81. - -"We are going in here," he said to Prosper; "come." - -They went up the steps, and stopped on the second floor, before a door -over which was a large sign, "Fashionable Dressmaker." - -A handsome bell-rope hung on the wall, but M. Verduret did not touch -it. He tapped with the ends of his fingers in a peculiar way, and the -door instantly opened as if someone had been watching for his signal -on the other side. - -The door was opened by a neatly dressed woman of about forty. She -quietly ushered M. Verduret and Prosper into a neat dining-room with -several doors opening into it. - -This woman bowed humbly to M. Verduret, as if he were some superior -being. - -He scarcely noticed her salutation, but questioned her with a look. -His look said: - -"Well?" - -She bowed affirmatively: - -"Yes." - -"In there?" asked M. Verduret in a low tone, pointing to one of the -doors. - -"No," said the woman in the same tone, "over there, in the little -parlor." - -M. Verduret opened the door pointed out, and pushed Prosper into the -little parlor, whispering, as he did so: - -"Go in, and keep your presence of mind." - -But his injunction was useless. The instant he cast his eyes around -the room into which he had so unceremoniously been pushed without any -warning, Prosper exclaimed, in a startled voice: - -"Madeleine!" - -It was indeed M. Fauvel's niece, looking more beautiful than ever. -Hers was that calm, dignified beauty which imposes admiration and -respect. - -Standing in the middle of the room, near a table covered with silks -and satins, she was arranging a skirt of red velvet embroidered in -gold; probably the dress she was to wear as maid of honor to Catherine -de Medicis. - -At sight of Prosper, all the blood rushed to her face, and her -beautiful eyes half closed, as if she were about to faint; she clung -to the table to prevent herself from falling. - -Prosper well knew that Madeleine was not one of those cold-hearted -women whom nothing could disturb, and who feel sensations, but never a -true sentiment. - -Of a tender, dreamy nature, she betrayed in the minute details of her -life the most exquisite delicacy. But she was also proud, and -incapable of in any way violating her conscience. When duty spoke, she -obeyed. - -She recovered from her momentary weakness, and the soft expression of -her eyes changed to one of haughty resentment. In an offended tone she -said: - -"What has emboldened you, monsieur, to be watching my movements? Who -gave you permission to follow me, to enter this house?" - -Prosper was certainly innocent. He would have given worlds to explain -what had just happened, but he was powerless, and could only remain -silent. - -"You promised me upon your honor, monsieur," continued Madeleine, -"that you would never again seek my presence. Is this the way you keep -your word?" - -"I did promise, mademoiselle, but----" - -He stopped. - -"Oh, speak!" - -"So many things have happened since that terrible day, that I think I -am excusable in forgetting, for one hour, an oath torn from me in a -moment of blind weakness. It is to chance, at least to another will -than my own, that I am indebted for the happiness of once more finding -myself near you. Alas! the instant I saw you my heart bounded with -joy. I did not think, no I could not think, that you would prove more -pitiless than strangers have been, that you would cast me off when I -am so miserable and heart-broken." - -Had not Prosper been so agitated he could have read in the eyes of -Madeleine--those beautiful eyes which had so long been the arbiters of -his destiny--the signs of a great inward struggle. - -It was, however, in a firm voice that she replied: - -"You know me well enough, Prosper, to be sure than no blow can strike -you without reaching me at the same time. You suffer, I suffer with -you: I pity you as a sister would pity a beloved brother." - -"A sister!" said Prosper, bitterly. "Yes, that was the word you used -the day you banished me from your presence. A sister! Then why during -three years did you delude me with vain hopes? Was I a brother to you -the day we went to Notre Dame de Fourvieres, that day when, at the -foot of the altar, we swore to love each other for ever and ever, and -you fastened around my neck a holy relic and said, 'Wear this always -for my sake, never part from it, and it will bring you good fortune'?" - -Madeleine attempted to interrupt him by a supplicating gesture: he -would not heed it, but continued with increased bitterness: - -"One month after that happy day--a year ago--you gave me back my -promise, told me to consider myself free from any engagement, and -never to come near you again. If I could have discovered in what way I -had offended you-- But no, you refused to explain. You drove me away, -and to obey you I told everyone that I had left you of my own accord. -You told me that an invincible obstacle had arisen between us, and I -believed you, fool that I was! The obstacle was your own heart, -Madeleine. I have always worn the medal; but it has not brought me -happiness or good fortune." - -As white and motionless as a statue, Madeleine stood with bowed head -before this storm of passionate reproach. - -"I told you to forget me," she murmured. - -"Forget!" exclaimed Prosper, excitedly, "forget! Can I forget! Is it -in my power to stop, by an effort of will, the circulation of my -blood? Ah, you have never loved! To forget, as to stop the beatings of -the heart, there is but one means--death!" - -This word, uttered with the fixed determination of a desperate, -reckless man, caused Madeleine to shudder. - -"Miserable man!" she exclaimed. - -"Yes, miserable man, and a thousand times more miserable than you can -imagine! You can never understand the tortures I have suffered, when -for a year I would awake every morning, and say to myself, 'It is all -over, she has ceased to love me!' This great sorrow stared me in the -face day and night in spite of all my efforts to dispel it. And you -speak of forgetfulness! I sought it at the bottom of poisoned cups, -but found it not. I tried to extinguish this memory of the past, that -tears my heart to shreds like a devouring flame; in vain. When the -body succumbed, the pitiless heart kept watch. With this corroding -torture making life a burden, do you wonder that I should seek rest -which can only be obtained by suicide?" - -"I forbid you to utter that word." - -"You forget, Madeleine, that you have no right to forbid me, unless -you love me. Love would make you all powerful, and me obedient." - -With an imperious gesture Madeleine interrupted him as if she wished -to speak, and perhaps to explain all, to exculpate herself. - -But a sudden thought stopped her; she clasped her hands despairingly, -and cried: - -"My God! this suffering is beyond endurance!" - -Prosper seemed to misconstrue her words. - -"Your pity comes too late," he said. "There is no happiness in store -for one like myself, who has had a glimpse of divine felicity, had the -cup of bliss held to his lips, and then dashed to the ground. There is -nothing left to attach me to life. You have destroyed my holiest -beliefs; I came forth from prison disgraced by my enemies; what is to -become of me? Vainly do I question the future; for me there is no hope -of happiness. I look around me to see nothing but abandonment, -ignominy, and despair!" - -"Prosper, my brother, my friend, if you only knew----" - -"I know but one thing, Madeleine, and that is, that you no longer love -me, and that I love you more madly than ever. Oh, Madeleine, God only -knows how I love you!" - -He was silent. He hoped for an answer. None came. - -But suddenly the silence was broken by a stifled sob. - -It was Madeleine's maid, who, seated in a corner, was weeping -bitterly. - -Madeleine had forgotten her presence. - -Prosper had been so surprised at finding Madeleine when he entered the -room, that he kept his eyes fastened upon her face, and never once -looked about him to see if anyone else were present. - -He turned in surprise and looked at the weeping woman. - -He was not mistaken: this neatly dressed waiting-maid was Nina Gypsy. - -Prosper was so startled that he became perfectly dumb. He stood there -with ashy lips, and a chilly sensation creeping through his veins. - -The horror of the situation terrified him. He was there, between the -two women who had ruled his fate; between Madeleine, the proud heiress -who spurned his love, and Nina Gypsy, the poor girl whose devotion to -himself he had so disdainfully rejected. - -And she had heard all; poor Gypsy had witnessed the passionate avowal -of her lover, had heard him swear that he could never love any woman -but Madeleine, that if his love were not reciprocated he would kill -himself, as he had nothing else to live for. - -Prosper could judge of her sufferings by his own. For she was wounded -not only in the present, but in the past. What must be her humiliation -and danger on hearing the miserable part which Prosper, in his -disappointed love, had imposed upon her? - -He was astonished that Gypsy--violence itself--remained silently -weeping, instead of rising and bitterly denouncing him. - -Meanwhile Madeleine had succeeded in recovering her usual calmness. - -Slowly and almost unconsciously she had put on her bonnet and shawl, -which were lying on the sofa. - -Then she approached Prosper, and said: - -"Why did you come here? We both have need of all the courage we can -command. You are unhappy, Prosper; I am more than unhappy, I am most -wretched. You have a right to complain: I have not the right to shed a -tear. While my heart is slowly breaking, I must wear a smiling face. -You can seek consolation in the bosom of a friend: I can have no -confidant but God." - -Prosper tried to murmur a reply, but his pale lips refused to -articulate; he was stifling. - -"I wish to tell you," continued Madeleine, "that I have forgotten -nothing. But oh! let not this knowledge give you any hope; the future -is blank for us, but if you love me you will live. You will not, I -know, add to my already heavy burden of sorrow, the agony of mourning -your death. For my sake, live; live the life of a good man, and -perhaps the day will come when I can justify myself in your eyes. And -now, oh, my brother, oh, my only friend, adieu! adieu!" - -She pressed a kiss upon his brow, and rushed from the room, followed -by Nina Gypsy. - -Prosper was alone. He seemed to be awaking from a troubled dream. He -tried to think over what had just happened, and asked himself if he -were losing his mind, or whether he had really spoken to Madeleine and -seen Gypsy? - -He was obliged to attribute all this to the mysterious power of the -strange man whom he had seen for the first time that very morning. - -How did he gain this wonderful power of controlling events to suit his -own purposes? - -He seemed to have anticipated everything, to know everything. He was -acquainted with Cavaillon, he knew all Madeleine's movements; he had -made even Gypsy become humble and submissive. - -Thinking all this, Prosper had reached such a degree of exasperation, -that when M. Verduret entered the little parlor, he strode toward him -white with rage, and in a harsh, threatening voice, said to him: - -"Who are you?" - -The stout man did not show any surprise at this burst of anger, but -quietly answered: - -"A friend of your father's; did you not know it?" - -"That is no answer, monsieur; I have been surprised into being -influenced by a stranger, and now--" - -"Do you want my biography, what I have been, what I am, and what I may -be? What difference does it make to you? I told you that I would save -you; the main point is that I am saving you." - -"Still I have the right to ask by what means you are saving me." - -"What good will it do you to know what my plans are?" - -"In order to decide whether I will accept or reject them?" - -"But suppose I guarantee success?" - -"That is not sufficient, monsieur. I do not choose to be any longer -deprived of my own free will, to be exposed without warning to trials -like those I have undergone to-day. A man of my age must know what he -is doing." - -"A man of your age, Prosper, when he is blind, takes a guide, and does -not undertake to point out the way to his leader." - -The half-bantering, half-commiserating tone of M. Verduret was not -calculated to calm Prosper's irritation. - -"That being the case, monsieur," he cried, "I will thank you for your -past services, and decline them for the future, as I have no need of -them. If I attempted to defend my honor and my life, it was because I -hoped that Madeleine would be restored to me. I have been convinced -to-day that all is at an end between us; I retire from the struggle, -and care not what becomes of me now." - -Prosper was so decided, that M. Verduret seemed alarmed. - -"You must be mad," he finally said. - -"No, unfortunately I am not. Madeleine has ceased to love me, and of -what importance is anything else?" - -His heart-broken tone aroused M. Verduret's sympathy, and he said, in -a kind, soothing tone: - -"Then you suspect nothing? You did not fathom the meaning of what she -said?" - -"You were listening," cried Prosper fiercely. - -"I certainly was." - -"Monsieur!" - -"Yes. It was a presumptuous thing to do, perhaps; but the end -justified the means in this instance. I am glad I did listen, because -it has enabled me to say to you, Take courage, Prosper: Mlle. -Madeleine loves you; she has never ceased to love you." - -Like a dying man who eagerly listens to deceitful promises of -recovery, although he feels himself sinking into the grave, did -Prosper feel his sad heart cheered by M. Verduret's assertion. - -"Oh," he murmured, suddenly calmed, "if only I could hope!" - -"Rely upon me, I am not mistaken. Ah, I could see the torture endured -by this generous girl, while she struggled between her love, and what -she believed to be her duty. Were you not convinced of her love when -she bade you farewell?" - -"She loves me, she is free, and yet she shuns me." - -"No, she is not free! In breaking off her engagement with you, she was -governed by some powerful, irrepressible event. She is sacrificing -herself--for whom? We shall soon know; and the secret of her self- -sacrifice will discover to us the secret of her plot against you." - -As M. Verduret spoke, Prosper felt all his resolutions of revolt -slowly melting away, and their place taken by confidence and hope. - -"If what you say were true!" he mournfully said. - -"Foolish young man! Why do you persist in obstinately shutting your -eyes to the proof I place before you? Can you not see that Mlle. -Madeleine knows who the thief is? Yes, you need not look so shocked; -she knows the thief, but no human power can tear it from her. She -sacrifices you, but then she almost has the right, since she first -sacrificed herself." - -Prosper was almost convinced; and it nearly broke his heart to leave -this little parlor where he had seen Madeleine. - -"Alas!" he said, pressing M. Verduret's hand, "you must think me a -ridiculous fool! but you don't know how I suffer." - -The man with the red whiskers sadly shook his head, and his voice -sounded very unsteady as he replied, in a low tone: - -"What you suffer, I have suffered. Like you, I loved, not a pure, -noble girl, yet a girl fair to look upon. For three years I was at her -feet, a slave to her every whim; when, one day she suddenly deserted -me who adored her, to throw herself in the arms of a man who despised -her. Then, like you, I wished to die. Neither threats nor entreaties -could induce her to return to me. Passion never reasons, and she loved -my rival." - -"And did you know this rival?" - -"I knew him." - -"And you did not seek revenge?" - -"No," replied M. Verduret with a singular expression, "no: fate took -charge of my vengeance." - -For a minute Prosper was silent; then he said: - -"I have finally decided, monsieur. My honor is a sacred trust for -which I must account to my family. I am ready to follow you to the end -of the world; dispose of me as you judge proper." - -That same day Prosper, faithful to his promise, sold his furniture, -and wrote a letter to his friends announcing his intended departure to -San Francisco. - -In the evening he and M. Verduret installed themselves in the -"Archangel." - -Mme. Alexandre gave Prosper her prettiest room, but it was very ugly -compared with the coquettish little parlor on the Rue Chaptal. His -state of mind did not permit him, however, to notice the difference -between his former and present quarters. He lay on an old sofa, -meditating upon the events of the day, and feeling a bitter -satisfaction in his isolated condition. - -About eleven o'clock he thought he would raise the window, and let the -cool air fan his burning brow; as he did so a piece of paper was blown -from among the folds of the window-curtain, and lay at his feet on the -floor. - -Prosper mechanically picked it up, and looked at it. - -It was covered with writing, the handwriting of Nina Gypsy; he could -not be mistaken about that. - -It was the fragment of a torn letter; and, if the half sentences did -not convey any clear meaning, they were sufficient to lead the mind -into all sorts of conjectures. - -The fragment read as follows: - - - "of M. Raoul, I have been very im . . . plotted against him, of - whom never . . . warn Prosper, and then . . . best friend. he - . . . hand of Mlle. Ma . . ." - -Prosper never closed his eyes during that night. - - - -IX - -Not far from the Palais Royal, in the Rue St. Honore, is the sign of -"La Bonne Foi," a small establishment, half cafe and half shop, -extensively patronized by the people of the neighborhood. - -It was in the smoking-room of this modest cafe that Prosper, the day -after his release, awaited M. Verduret, who had promised to meet him -at four o'clock. - -The clock struck four; M. Verduret, who was punctuality itself, -appeared. He was more red-faced and self-satisfied, if possible, than -the day before. - -As soon as the servant had left the room to obey his orders, he said -to Prosper: - -"Well, are our commissions executed?" - -"Yes, monsieur." - -"Have you seen the costumer?" - -"I gave him your letter, and everything you ordered will be sent to -the Archangel to-morrow." - -"Very good; you have not lost time, neither have I. I have good news -for you." - -The "Bonne Foi" is almost deserted at four o'clock. The hour for -coffee is passed, and the hour for absinthe has not yet come. M. -Verduret and Prosper could talk at their ease without fear of being -overheard by gossiping neighbors. - -M. Verduret drew forth his memorandum-book, the precious diary which, -like the enchanted book in the fairy-tale, had an answer for every -question. - -"While awaiting our emissaries whom I appointed to meet here, let us -devote a little time to M. de Lagors." - -At this name Prosper did not protest, as he had done the night -previous. Like those imperceptible insects which, having once -penetrated the root of a tree, devour it in a single night, suspicion, -when it invades our mind, soon develops itself, and destroys our -firmest beliefs. - -The visit of Lagors, and Gypsy's torn letter, had filled Prosper with -suspicions which had grown stronger and more settled as time passed. - -"Do you know, my dear friend," said M. Verduret, "what part of France -this devoted friend of yours comes from?" - -"He was born at St. Remy, which is also Mme. Fauvel's native town." - -"Are you certain of that?" - -"Oh, perfectly so, monsieur! He has not only often told me so, but I -have heard him tell M. Fauvel; and he would talk to Mme. Fauvel by the -hour about his mother, who was cousin to Mme. Fauvel, and dearly -beloved by her." - -"Then you think there is no possible mistake or falsehood about this -part of his story?" - -"None in the least, monsieur." - -"Well, things are assuming a queer look." - -And he began to whistle between his teeth; which, with M. Verduret, -was a sign of intense inward satisfaction. - -"What seems so, monsieur?" inquired Prosper. - -"What has just happened; what I have been tracing. Parbleu!" he -exclaimed, imitating the manner of a showman at a fair, "here is a -lovely town, called St. Remy, six thousand inhabitants; charming -boulevards on the site of the old fortifications; handsome hotel; -numerous fountains; large charcoal market, silk factories, famous -hospital, and so on." - -Prosper was on thorns. - -"Please be so good, monsieur, as to explain what you----" - -"It also contains," continued M. Verduret, "a Roman triumphal arch, -which is of unparalleled beauty, and a Greek mausoleum; but no Lagors. -St. Remy is the native town of Nostradamus, but not of your friend." - -"Yet I have proofs." - -"Naturally. But proofs can be fabricated; relatives can be improvised. -Your evidence is open to suspicion. My proofs are undeniable, -perfectly authenticated. While you were pining in prison, I was -preparing my batteries and collecting munition to open fire. I wrote -to St. Remy, and received answers to my questions." - -"Will you let me know what they were?" - -"Have patience," said M. Verduret as he turned over the leaves of his -memoranda. "Ah, here is number one. Bow respectfully to it, 'tis -official." - -He then read: - - - "'LAGORS.--Very old family, originally from Maillane, settled at - St. Remy about a century ago.'" - - -"I told you so," cried Prosper. - -"Pray allow me to finish," said M. Verduret. - - - "'The last of the Lagors (Jules-Rene-Henri) bearing without warrant - the title of count, married in 1829 Mlle. Rosalie-Clarisse - Fontanet, of Tarascon; died December 1848, leaving no male heir, - but left two daughters. The registers make no mention of any - person in the district bearing the name of Lagors.' - - -"Now what do you think of this information?" queried the fat man with -a triumphant smile. - -Prosper looked amazed. - -"But why did M. Fauvel treat Raoul as his nephew?" - -"Ah, you mean as his wife's nephew! Let us examine note number two: it -is not official, but it throws a valuable light upon the twenty -thousand livres income of your friend." - - - "'/Jules-Rene-Henri/ de Lagors, last of his name, died at St. Remy - on the 29th of December, 1848, in a state of great poverty. He at - one time was possessed of a moderate fortune, but invested it in a - silk-worm nursery, and lost it all. - - "'He had no son, but left two daughters, one of whom is a teacher - at Aix, and the other married a retail merchant at Orgon. His - widow, who lives at Montagnette, is supported entirely by one of - her relatives, the wife of a rich banker in Paris. No person of - the name of Lagors lives in the district of Arles.' - - -"That is all," said M. Verduret; "don't you think it enough?" - -"Really, monsieur, I don't know whether I am awake or dreaming." - -"You will be awake after a while. Now I wish to remark one thing. Some -people may assert that the widow Lagors had a child born after her -husband's death. This objection has been destroyed by the age of your -friend. Raoul is twenty-four, and M. de Lagors has not been dead -twenty years." - -"But," said Prosper thoughtfully, "who can Raoul be?" - -"I don't know. The fact is, I am more perplexed to find out who he is, -than to know whom he is not. There is one man who could give us all -the information we seek, but he will take good care to keep his mouth -shut." - -"You mean M. de Clameran?" - -"Him, and no one else." - -"I have always felt the most inexplicable aversion toward him. Ah, if -we could only get his account in addition to what you already have!" - -"I have been furnished with a few notes concerning the Clameran family -by your father, who knew them well; they are brief, but I expect -more." - -"What did my father tell you?" - -"Nothing favorable, you may be sure. I will read you the synopsis of -this information: - - - "'Louis de Clameran was born at the Chateau de Clameran, near - Tarascon. He had an elder brother named Gaston, who, in - consequence of an affray in which he had the misfortune to kill - one man and badly wound another, was compelled to fly the country - in 1842. Gaston was an honest, noble youth, universally beloved. - Louis, on the contrary, was a wicked, despicable fellow, detested - by all who knew him. - - "'Upon the death of his father, Louis came to Paris, and in less - than two years had squandered not only his own patrimony, but also - the share of his exiled brother. - - "'Ruined and harassed by debt, Louis entered the army, but behaved - so disgracefully that he was dismissed. - - "'After leaving the army we lose sight of him; all we can discover - is, that he went to England, and thence to a German gambling - resort, where he became notorious for his scandalous conduct. - - "'In 1865 we find him again at Paris. He was in great poverty, and - his associates were among the most depraved classes. - - "'But he suddenly heard of the return of his brother Gaston to - Paris. Gaston had made a fortune in Mexico; but being still a - young man, and accustomed to a very active life, he purchased, - near Orloron, an iron-mill, intending to spend the remainder of - his life in working at it. Six months ago he died in the arms of - his brother Louis. His death provided our De Clameran an immense - fortune, and the title of marquis.'" - - -"Then," said Prosper, "from all this I judge that M. de Clameran was -very poor when I met him for the first time at M. Fauvel's?" - -"Evidently." - -"And about that time Lagors arrived from the country?" - -"Precisely." - -"And about a month after his appearance Madeleine suddenly banished -me?" - -"Well," exclaimed M. Verduret, "I am glad you are beginning to -understand the state of affairs." - -He was interrupted by the entrance of a stranger. - -The new-comer was a dandified-looking coachman, with elegant black -whiskers, shining boots with fancy tops; buff breeches, and a yellow -waistcoat with red and black stripes. - -After cautiously looking around the room, he walked straight up to the -table where M. Verduret sat. - -"What is the news, Master Joseph Dubois?" said the stout man eagerly. - -"Ah, patron, don't speak of it!" answered the servant: "things are -getting warm." - -Prosper concentrated all his attention upon this superb domestic. He -thought he recognized his face. He had certainly somewhere seen that -retreating forehead and those little restless black eyes, but where -and when he could not remember. - -Meanwhile, Master Joseph had taken a seat at a table adjoining the one -occupied by M. Verduret and Prosper; and, having called for some -absinthe, was preparing it by holding the water aloft and slowly -dropping it in the glass. - -"Speak!" said M. Verduret. - -"In the first place, patron, I must say that the position of valet and -coachman to M. de Clameran is not a bed of roses." - -"Go on: come to the point. You can complain to-morrow." - -"Very good. Yesterday my master walked out at two o'clock. I, of -course, followed him. Do you know where he went? The thing was as good -as a farce. He went to the Archangel to keep the appointment made by -'Nina Gypsy.'" - -"Well, make haste. They told him she was gone. Then?" - -"Then? Ah! he was not at all pleased, I can tell you. He hurried back -to the hotel where the other, M. de Lagors, awaited him. And, upon my -soul, I have never heard so much swearing in my life! M. Raoul asked -him what had happened to put him in such a bad humor. 'Nothing,' -replied my master, 'except that little devil has run off, and no one -knows where she is; she has slipped through our fingers.' Then they -both appeared to be vexed and uneasy. Lagors asked if she knew -anything serious. 'She knows nothing but what I told you,' replied -Clameran; 'but this nothing, falling in the ear of a man with any -suspicions, will be more than enough to work on.'" - -M. Verduret smiled like a man who had his reasons for appreciating at -their just value De Clameran's fears. - -"Well, your master is not without sense, after all; don't you think he -showed it by saying that?" - -"Yes, patron. Then Lagors exclaimed, 'If it is as serious as that, we -must get rid of this little serpent!' But my master shrugged his -shoulders, and laughing loudly said, 'You talk like an idiot; when one -is annoyed by a woman of this sort, one must take measures to get rid -of her administratively.' This idea seemed to amuse them both very -much." - -"I can understand their being entertained by it," said M. Verduret; -"it is an excellent idea; but the misfortune is, it is too late to -carry it out. The nothing which made Clameran uneasy has already -fallen into a knowing ear." - -With breathless curiosity, Prosper listened to this report, every word -of which seemed to throw light upon past events. Now, he thought, he -understood the fragment of Gypsy's letter. He saw that this Raoul, in -whom he had confided so deeply, was nothing more than a scoundrel. A -thousand little circumstances, unnoticed at the time, now recurred to -his mind, and made him wonder how he could have been so blind so long. - -Master Joseph Dubois continued his report: - -"Yesterday, after dinner, my master decked himself out like a -bridegroom. I shaved him, curled his hair, and perfumed him with -special care, after which I drove him to the Rue de Provence to call -on Mme. Fauvel." - -"What!" exclaimed Prosper, "after the insulting language he used the -day of the robbery, did he dare to visit the house?" - -"Yes, monsieur, he not only dared this, but he also stayed there until -midnight, to my great discomfort; for I got as wet as a rat, waiting -for him." - -"How did he look when he came out?" asked M. Verduret. - -"Well, he certainly looked less pleased then when he went in. After -putting away my carriage, and rubbing down my horses, I went to see if -he wanted anything; I found the door locked, and he swore at me like a -trooper, through the key-hole." - -And, to assist the digestion of this insult, Master Joseph here gulped -down a glass of absinthe. - -"Is that all?" questioned M. Verduret. - -"All that occurred yesterday, patron; but this morning my master rose -late, still in a horrible bad humor. At noon Raoul arrived, also in a -rage. They at once began to dispute, and such a row! why, the most -abandoned housebreakers and pickpockets would have blushed to hear -such Billingsgate. At one time my master seized the other by the -throat and shook him like a reed. But Raoul was too quick for him; he -saved himself from strangulation by drawing out a sharp-pointed knife, -the sight of which made my master drop him in a hurry, I can tell -you." - -"But what did they say?" - -"Ah, there is the rub, patron," said Joseph in a piteous tone; "the -scamps spoke English, so I could not understand them. But I am sure -they were disputing about money." - -"How do you know that?" - -"Because I learned at the Exposition that the word 'argent' means -money in every language in Europe; and this word they constantly used -in their conversation." - -M. Verduret sat with knit brows, talking in an undertone to himself; -and Prosper, who was watching him, wondered if he was trying to -understand and construct the dispute by mere force of reflection. - -"When they had done fighting," continued Joseph, "the rascals began to -talk in French again; but they only spoke of a fancy ball which is to -be given by some banker. When Raoul was leaving, my master said, -'Since this thing is inevitable, and it must take place to-day, you -had better remain at home, at Vesinet, this evening.' Raoul replied, -'Of course.'" - -Night was approaching, and the smoking-room was gradually filling with -men who called for absinthe or bitters, and youths who perched -themselves up on high stools, and smoked their pipes. - -"It is time to go," said M. Verduret; "your master will want you, -Joseph; besides, here is someone come for me. I will see you -to-morrow." - -The new-comer was no other than Cavaillon, more troubled and -frightened than ever. He looked uneasily around the room, as if he -expected the whole police force to appear, and carry him off to -prison. - -He did not sit down at M. Verduret's table, but stealthily gave his -hand to Prosper, and, after assuring himself that no one was observing -them, handed M. Verduret a package, saying: - -"She found this in a cupboard." - -It was a handsomely bound prayer-book. M. Verduret rapidly turned over -the leaves, and soon found the pages from which the words pasted on -Prosper's letter had been cut. - -"I had moral proofs," he said, handing the book to Prosper, "but here -is material proof sufficient in itself to save you." - -When Prosper looked at the book he turned pale as a ghost. He -recognized this prayer-book instantly. He had given it to Madeleine in -exchange for the medal. - -He opened it, and on the fly-leaf Madeleine had written, "Souvenir of -Notre Dame de Fourvieres, 17 January, 1866." - -"This book belongs to Madeleine," he cried. - -M. Verduret did not reply, but walked toward a young man dressed like -a brewer, who had just entered the room. - -He glanced at the note which this person handed to him, and hastened -back to the table, and said, in an agitated tone: - -"I think we have got them now!" - -Throwing a five-franc piece on the table, and without saying a word to -Cavaillon, he seized Prosper's arm, and hurried from the room. - -"What a fatality!" he said, as he hastened along the street: "we may -miss them. We shall certainly reach the St. Lazare station too late -for the St. Germain train." - -"For Heaven's sake, where are you going?" asked Prosper. - -"Never mind, we can talk after we start. Hurry!" - -Reaching Palais Royal Place, M. Verduret stopped before one of the -hacks belonging to the railway station, and examined the horses at a -glance. - -"How much for driving us to Vesinet?" he asked of the driver. - -"I don't know the road very well that way." - -The name of Vesinet was enough for Prosper. - -"Well," said the driver, "at this time of night, in such dreadful -weather, it ought to be--twenty-five francs." - -"And how much more for driving very rapidly?" - -"Bless my soul! Why, monsieur, I leave that to your generosity; but if -you put it at thirty-five francs--" - -"You shall have a hundred," interrupted M. Verduret, "if you overtake -a carriage which has half an hour's start of us." - -"Tonnerre de Brest!" cried the delighted driver; "jump in quick: we -are losing time!" - -And, whipping up his lean horses, he galloped them down the Rue de -Valois at lightning speed. - - - -X - -Leaving the little station of Vesinet, we come upon two roads. One, to -the left, macadamized and kept in perfect repair, leads to the -village, of which there are glimpses here and there through the trees. -The other, newly laid out, and just covered with gravel, leads through -the woods. - -Along the latter, which before the lapse of five years will be a busy -street, are built a few houses, hideous in design, and at some -distance apart; rural summer retreats of city merchants, but -unoccupied during the winter. - -It was at the junction of these two roads that Prosper stopped the -hack. - -The driver had gained his hundred francs. The horses were completely -worn out, but they had accomplished all that was expected of them; M. -Verduret could distinguish the lamps of a hack similar to the one he -occupied, about fifty yards ahead of him. - -M. Verduret jumped out, and, handing the driver a bank-note, said: - -"Here is what I promised you. Go to the first tavern you find on the -right-hand side of the road as you enter the village. If we do not -meet you there in an hour, you are at liberty to return to Paris." - -The driver was overwhelming in his thanks; but neither Prosper nor his -friend heard them. They had already started up the new road. - -The weather, which had been inclement when they set out, was now -fearful. The rain fell in torrents, and a furious wind howled dismally -through the dense woods. - -The intense darkness was rendered more dreary by the occasional -glimmer of the lamps at the distant station, which seemed about to be -extinguished by every new gust of wind. - -M. Verduret and Prosper had been running along the muddy road for -about five minutes, when suddenly the latter stopped and said: - -"This is Raoul's house." - -Before the gate of an isolated house stood the hack which M. Verduret -had followed. Reclining on his seat, wrapped in a thick cloak, was the -driver, who, in spite of the pouring rain, was already asleep, -evidently waiting for the person whom he had brought to this house a -few minutes ago. - -M. Verduret pulled his cloak, and said, in a low voice: - -"Wake up, my good man." - -The driver started, and, mechanically gathering his reins, yawned out: - -"I am ready: come on!" - -But when, by the light of the carriage-lamps, he saw two men in this -lonely spot, he imagined that they wanted his purse, and perhaps his -life. - -"I am engaged!" he cried out, as he cracked his whip in the air; "I am -waiting here for someone." - -"I know that, you fool," replied M. Verduret, "and only wish to ask -you a question, which you can gain five francs by answering. Did you -not bring a middle-aged lady here?" - -This question, this promise of five francs, instead of reassuring the -coachman, increased his alarm. - -"I have already told you I am waiting for someone," he said, "and, if -you don't go away and leave me alone, I will call for help." - -M. Verduret drew back quickly. - -"Come away," he whispered to Prosper, "the cur will do as he says; -and, alarm once given, farewell to our projects. We must find some -other entrance than by this gate." - -They then went along the wall surrounding the garden, in search of a -place where it was possible to climb up. - -This was difficult to discover, the wall being twelve feet high, and -the night very dark. Fortunately, M. Verduret was very agile; and, -having decided upon the spot to be scaled, he drew back a few feet, -and making a sudden spring, seized one of the projecting stones above -him, and, drawing himself up by aid of his hands and feet, soon found -himself on top of the wall. - -It was now Prosper's turn to climb up; but, though much younger than -his companion, he had not his agility and strength, and would never -have succeeded if M. Verduret had not pulled him up, and then helped -him down on the other side. - -Once in the garden, M. Verduret looked about him to study the -situation. - -The house occupied by M. de Lagors was built in the middle of an -immense garden. It was narrow, two stories high, and with garrets. - -Only one window, in the second story, was lighted. - -"As you have often been here," said M. Verduret, "you must know all -about the arrangement of the house: what room is that where we see the -light?" - -"That is Raoul's bed-chamber." - -"Very good. What rooms are on the first floor?" - -"The kitchen, pantry, billiard-room, and dining-room." - -"And on the floor above?" - -"Two drawing-rooms separated by folding doors, and a library." - -"Where do the servants sleep?" - -"Raoul has none at present. He is waited on by a man and his wife, who -live at Vesinet; they come in the morning, and leave after dinner." - -M. Verduret rubbed his hands gleefully. - -"That suits our plans exactly," he said; "there is nothing to prevent -our hearing what Raoul has to say to this person who has come from -Paris at ten o'clock at night, to see him. Let us go in." - -Prosper seemed averse to this, and said: - -"It is a serious thing for us to do, monsieur." - -"Bless my soul! what else did we come here for? Did you think it was a -pleasure-trip, merely to enjoy this lovely weather?" he said in a -bantering tone. - -"But we might be discovered." - -"Suppose we are? If the least noise betrays our presence, you have -only to advance boldly as a friend come to visit a friend, and, -finding the door open walked in." - -But unfortunately the heavy oak door was locked. M. Verduret shook it -in vain. - -"How foolish!" he said with vexation, "I ought to have brought my -instruments with me. A common lock which could be opened with a nail, -and I have not even a piece of wire!" - -Thinking it useless to attempt the door, he tried successively every -window on the ground-floor. Alas! each blind was securely fastened on -the inside. - -M. Verduret was provoked. He prowled around the house like a fox -around a hen-coop, seeking an entrance, but finding none. Despairingly -he came back to the spot in front of the house, whence he had the best -view of the lighted window. - -"If I could only look in," he cried. "Just to think that in there," -and he pointed to the window, "is the solution of the mystery; and we -are cut off from it by thirty or forty feet of cursed blank wall!" - -Prosper was more surprised than ever at his companion's strange -behavior. He seemed perfectly at home in this garden; he ran about -without any precaution; so that one would have supposed him accustomed -to such expeditions, especially when he spoke of picking the lock of -an occupied house, as if he were talking of opening a snuff-box. He -was utterly indifferent to the rain and sleet driven in his face by -the gusts of wind as he splashed about in the mud trying to find some -way of entrance. - -"I must get a peep into that window," he said, "and I will, cost what -it may!" - -Prosper seemed to suddenly remember something. - -"There is a ladder here," he cried. - -"Why did you not tell me that before? Where is it?" - -"At the end of the garden, under the trees." - -They ran to the spot, and in a few minutes had the ladder standing -against the wall. - -But to their chagrin they found the ladder six feet too short. Six -long feet of wall between the top of the ladder and the lighted window -was a very discouraging sight to Prosper; he exclaimed: - -"We cannot reach it." - -"We /can/ reach it," cried M. Verduret triumphantly. - -And he quickly placed himself a yard off from the house, and, seizing -the ladder, cautiously raised it and rested the bottom round on his -shoulders, at the same time holding the two uprights firmly and -steadily with his hands. The obstacle was overcome. - -"Now mount," he said to his companion. - -Prosper did not hesitate. The enthusiasm of difficulties so skilfully -conquered, and the hope of triumph, gave him a strength and agility -which he had never imagined he possessed. He made a sudden spring, -and, seizing the lower rounds, quickly climbed up the ladder, which -swayed and trembled beneath his weight. - -But he had scarcely looked in the lighted window when he uttered a cry -which was drowned in the roaring tempest, and dropped like a log down -on the wet grass, exclaiming: - -"The villain! the villain!" - -With wonderful promptness and vigor M. Verduret laid the ladder on the -ground, and ran toward Prosper, fearing that he was dead or -dangerously injured. - -"What did you see? Are you hurt?" he whispered. - -But Prosper had already risen. Although he had had a violent fall, he -was unhurt; he was in a state when mind governs matter so absolutely -that the body is insensible to pain. - -"I saw," he answered in a hoarse voice, "I saw Madeleine--do you -understand, Madeleine--in that room, alone with Raoul!" - -M. Verduret was confounded. Was it possible that he, the infallible -expert, had been mistaken in his deductions? - -He well knew that M. de Lagors's visitor was a woman; but his own -conjectures, and the note which Mme. Gypsy had sent to him at the -tavern, had fully assured him that this woman was Mme. Fauvel. - -"You must be mistaken," he said to Prosper. - -"No, monsieur, no. Never could I mistake another for Madeleine. Ah! -you who heard what she said to me yesterday, answer me: was I to -expect such infamous treason as this? You said to me then, 'She loves -you, she loves you!' Now do you think she loves me? speak!" - -M. Verduret did not answer. He had first been stupefied by his -mistake, and was now racking his brain to discover the cause of it, -which was soon discerned by his penetrating mind. - -"This is the secret discovered by Nina," continued Prosper. -"Madeleine, this pure and noble Madeleine, whom I believed to be as -immaculate as an angel, is in love with this thief, who has even -stolen the name he bears; and I, trusting fool that I was, made this -scoundrel my best friend. I confided to him all my hopes and fears; -and he was her lover! Of course they amused themselves by ridiculing -my silly devotion and blind confidence!" - -He stopped, overcome by his violent emotions. Wounded vanity is the -worst of miseries. The certainty of having been so shamefully deceived -and betrayed made Prosper almost insane with rage. - -"This is the last humiliation I shall submit to," he fiercely cried. -"It shall not be said that I was coward enough to stand by and let an -insult like this go unpunished." - -He started toward the house; but M. Verduret seized his arm and said: - -"What are you going to do?" - -"Have my revenge! I will break down the door; what do I care for the -noise and scandal, now that I have nothing to lose? I shall not -attempt to creep into the house like a thief, but as a master, as one -who has a right to enter; as a man who, having received an insult -which can only be washed out with blood, comes to demand -satisfaction." - -"You will do nothing of the sort, Prosper." - -"Who will prevent me?" - -"I will." - -"You? do not hope that you will be able to deter me. I will appear -before them, put them to the blush, kill them both, then put an end to -my own wretched existence. That is what I intend to do, and nothing -shall stop me!" - -If M. Verduret had not held Prosper with a vice-like grip, he would -have escaped, and carried out his threat. - -"If you make any noise, Prosper, or raise an alarm, all your hopes are -ruined." - -"I have no hopes now." - -"Raoul, put on his guard, will escape us, and you will remain -dishonored forever." - -"What difference is it to me?" - -"It makes a great difference to me. I have sworn to prove your -innocence. A man of your age can easily find a wife, but can never -restore lustre to a tarnished name. Let nothing interfere with the -establishing of your innocence." - -Genuine passion is uninfluenced by surrounding circumstances. M. -Verduret and Prosper stood foot-deep in mud, wet to the skin, the rain -pouring down on their heads, and yet seemed in no hurry to end their -dispute. - -"I will be avenged," repeated Prosper with the persistency of a fixed -idea, "I will avenge myself." - -"Well, avenge yourself like a man, and not like a child!" said M. -Verduret angrily. - -"Monsieur!" - -"Yes, I repeat it, like a child. What will you do after you get into -the house? Have you any arms? No. You rush upon Raoul, and a struggle -ensues; while you two are fighting, Madeleine jumps in her carriage, -and drives off. What then? Which is the stronger, you or Raoul?" - -Overcome by the sense of his powerlessness, Prosper was silent. - -"And arms would be of no use," continued M. Verduret: "it is fortunate -you have none with you, for it would be very foolish to shoot a man -whom you can send to the galleys." - -"What must I do?" - -"Wait. Vengeance is a delicious fruit, that must ripen in order that -we may fully enjoy it." - -Prosper was unsettled in his resolution; M. Verduret seeing this -brought forth his last and strongest argument. - -"How do we know," he said, "that Mlle. Madeleine is here on her own -account? Did we not come to the conclusion that she was sacrificing -herself for the benefit of someone else? That superior will which -compelled her to banish you may have constrained this step to-night." - -That which coincides with our secret wishes is always eagerly -welcomed. This supposition, apparently improbable, struck Prosper as -possibly true. - -"That might be the case," he murmured, "who knows?" - -"I would soon know," said M. Verduret, "if I could see them together -in that room." - -"Will you promise me, monsieur, to tell me the exact truth, all that -you see and hear, no matter how painful it may be for me?" - -"I swear it, upon my word of honor." - -Then, with a strength of which a few minutes before he would not have -believed himself possessed, Prosper raised the ladder, placed the last -round on his shoulders, and said to M. Verduret: - -"Mount!" - -M. Verduret rapidly ascended the ladder without even shaking it, and -had his head on a level with the window. - -Prosper had seen but too well. There was Madeleine at this hour of the -night, alone with Raoul de Lagors in his room! - -M. Verduret observed that she still wore her shawl and bonnet. - -She was standing in the middle of the room, talking with great -animation. Her look and gestures betrayed indignant scorn. There was -an expression of ill-disguised loathing upon her beautiful face. - -Raoul was seated by the fire, stirring up the coals with a pair of -tongs. Every now and then, he would shrug his shoulders, like a man -resigned to everything he heard, and had no answer, except, "I cannot -help it. I can do nothing for you." - -M. Verdure would willingly have given the diamond ring on his finger -to be able to hear what was said; but the roaring wind completely -drowned their voices. - -"They are evidently quarrelling," he thought; "but it is not a lovers' -quarrel." - -Madeleine continued talking; and it was by closely watching the face -of Lagors, clearly revealed by the lamp on the mantel, that M. -Verduret hoped to discover the meaning of the scene before him. - -At one moment Lagors would start and tremble in spite of his apparent -indifference; the next, he would strike at the fire with the tongs, as -if giving vent to his rage at some reproach uttered by Madeleine. - -Finally Madeleine changed her threats into entreaties, and, clasping -her hands, almost fell at his knees. - -He turned away his head, and refused to answer save in monosyllables. - -Several times she turned to leave the room, but each time returned, as -if asking a favor, and unable to make up her mind to leave the house -till she had obtained it. - -At last she seemed to have uttered something decisive; for Raoul -quickly rose and opened a desk near the fireplace, from which he took -a bundle of papers, and handed them to her. - -"Well," thought M. Verduret, "this looks bad. Can it be a compromising -correspondence which the fair one wants to secure?" - -Madeleine took the papers, but was apparently still dissatisfied. She -again entreated him to give her something else. Raoul refused; and -then she threw the papers on the table. - -The papers seemed to puzzle M. Verduret very much, as he gazed at them -through the window. - -"I am not blind," he said, "and I certainly am not mistaken; those -papers, red, green, and yellow, are pawnbroker's tickets!" - -Madeleine turned over the papers as if looking for some particular -ones. She selected three, which she put in her pocket, disdainfully -pushing the others aside. - -She was evidently preparing to take her departure, for she said a few -words to Raoul, who took up the lamp as if to escort her downstairs. - -There was nothing more for M. Verduret to see. He carefully descended -the ladder, muttering to himself. "Pawnbroker's tickets! What infamous -mystery lies at the bottom of all this?" - -The first thing he did was to remove the ladder. - -Raoul might take it into his head to look around the garden, when he -came to the door with Madeleine, and if he did so the ladder could -scarcely fail to attract his attention. - -M. Verduret and Prosper hastily laid it on the ground, regardless of -the shrubs and vines they destroyed in doing so, and then concealed -themselves among the trees, whence they could watch at once the front -door and the outer gate. - -Madeleine and Raoul appeared in the doorway. Raoul set the lamp on the -bottom step, and offered his hand to the girl; but she refused it with -haughty contempt, which somewhat soothed Prosper's lacerated heart. - -This scornful behavior did not, however, seem to surprise or hurt -Raoul. He simply answered by an ironical gesture which implied, "As -you please!" - -He followed her to the gate, which he opened and closed after her; -then he hurried back to the house, while Madeleine's carriage drove -rapidly away. - -"Now, monsieur," said Prosper, "you must tell me what you saw. You -promised me the truth no matter how bitter it might be. Speak; I can -bear it, be it what it may!" - -"You will only have joy to bear, my friend. Within a month you will -bitterly regret your suspicions of to-night. You will blush to think -that you ever imagined Mlle. Madeleine to be intimate with a man like -Lagors." - -"But, monsieur, appearances----" - -"It is precisely against appearances that we must be on our guard. -Always distrust them. A suspicion, false or just, is always based on -something. But we must not stay here forever; and, as Raoul has -fastened the gate, we shall have to climb back again." - -"But there is the ladder." - -"Let it stay where it is; as we cannot efface our footprints, he will -think thieves have been trying to get into the house." - -They scaled the wall, and had not walked fifty steps when they heard -the noise of a gate being unlocked. The stood aside and waited; a man -soon passed on his way to the station. - -"That is Raoul," said M. Verduret, "and Joseph will report to us that -he has gone to tell Clameran what has just taken place. If they are -only kind enough to speak French!" - -He walked along quietly for some time, trying to connect the broken -chain of his deductions. - -"How in the deuce," he abruptly asked, "did this Lagors, who is -devoted to gay society, come to choose a lonely country house to live -in?" - -"I suppose it was because M. Fauvel's villa is only fifteen minutes' -ride from here, on the Seine." - -"That accounts for his staying here in the summer; but in winter?" - -"Oh, in winter he has a room at the Hotel du Louvre, and all the year -round keeps an apartment in Paris." - -This did not enlighten M. Verduret much; he hurried his pace. - -"I hope our driver has not gone. We cannot take the train which is -about to start, because Raoul would see us at the station." - -Although it was more than an hour since M. Verduret and Prosper left -the hack at the branch road, they found it waiting for them in front -of the tavern. - -The driver could not resist the desire to change his five-franc piece; -he had ordered dinner, and, finding his wine very good, was calling -for more, when he looked up and saw his employers. - -"Well, you are in a strange state!" he exclaimed. - -Prosper replied that they had gone to see a friend, and, losing their -way, had fallen into a pit; as if there were pits in Vesinet forest. - -"Ah, that is the way you got covered with mud, is it?" exclaimed the -driver, who, though apparently contented with this explanation, -strongly suspected that his two customers had been engaged in some -nefarious transaction. - -This opinion seemed to be entertained by everyone present, for they -looked at Prosper's muddy clothes and then at each other in a knowing -way. - -But M. Verduret stopped all comment by saying: - -"Come on." - -"All right, monsieur: get in while I settle my bill; I will be there -in a minute." - -The drive back was silent and seemed interminably long. Prosper at -first tried to draw his strange companion into conversation, but, as -he received nothing but monosyllables in reply, held his peace for the -rest of the journey. He was again beginning to feel irritated at the -absolute empire exercised over him by this man. - -Physical discomfort was added to his other troubles. He was stiff and -numb; every bone in him ached with the cold. - -Although mental endurance may be unlimited, bodily strength must in -the end give way. A violent effort is always followed by reaction. - -Lying back in a corner of the carriage, with his feet upon the front -seat, M. Verduret seemed to be enjoying a nap; yet he was never more -wide awake. - -He was in a perplexed state of mind. This expedition, which, he had -been confident, would resolve all his doubts, had only added mystery -to mystery. His chain of evidence, which he thought so strongly -linked, was completely broken. - -For him the facts remained the same, but circumstances had changed. He -could not imagine what common motive, what moral or material -complicity, what influences, could have existed to make the four -actors in his drama, Mme. Fauvel, Madeleine, Raoul, and Clameran, seem -to have the same object in view. - -He was seeking in his fertile mind, that encyclopaedia of craft and -subtlety, for some combination which would throw light on the problem -before him. - -The midnight bells were ringing when they reached the Archangel, and -for the first time M. Verduret remembered that he had not dined. - -Fortunately Mme. Alexandre was still up, and in the twinkling of an -eye had improvised a tempting supper. It was more than attention, more -than respect, that she showed her guest. Prosper observed that she -gazed admiringly at M. Verduret all the while he was eating his -supper. - -"You will not see me to-morrow," said M. Verduret to Prosper, when he -had risen to leave the room; "but I will be here about this time -to-morrow night. Perhaps I shall discover what I am seeking at MM. -Jandidier's ball." - -Prosper was dumb with astonishment. What! would M. Verduret think of -appearing at a ball given by the wealthiest and most fashionable -bankers in Paris? This accounted for his sending to the costumer. - -"Then you are invited to this ball?" - -The expressive eyes of M. Verduret danced with amusement. - -"Not yet," he said, "but I shall be." - -Oh, the inconsistency of the human mind! Prosper was tormented by the -most serious preoccupations. He looked sadly around his chamber, and, -as he thought of M. Verduret's projected pleasure at the ball, -exclaimed: - -"Ah, how fortunate he is! To-morrow he will have the privilege of -seeing Madeleine." - - - -XI - -The Rue St. Lazare was adorned by the palatial residences of the -Jandidier brothers, two celebrated financiers, who, if deprived of the -prestige of immense wealth, would still be looked up to as remarkable -men. Why cannot the same be said of all men? - -These two mansions, which were thought marvels at the time they were -built, were entirely distinct from each other, but so planned that -they could be turned into one immense house when so desired. - -When MM. Jandidier gave parties, they always had the movable -partitions taken away, and thus obtained the most superb salon in -Paris. - -Princely magnificence, lavish hospitality, and an elegant, graceful -manner of receiving their guests, made these entertainments eagerly -sought after by the fashionable circles of the capital. - -On Saturday, the Rue St. Lazare was blocked up by a file of carriages, -whose fair occupants were impatiently awaiting their turn to drive up -to the door, through which they could catch the tantalizing strains of -a waltz. - -It was a fancy ball; and nearly all of the costumes were superb, -though some were more original than elegant. - -Among the latter was a clown. Everything was in perfect keeping: the -insolent eye, coarse lips, high cheek-bones, and a beard so red that -it seemed to emit flames in the reflection of the dazzling lights. - -He wore top-boots, a dilapidated hat on the back of his head, and a -shirt-ruffle trimmed with torn lace. - -He carried in his left hand a canvas banner, upon which were painted -six or eight pictures, coarsely designed like those found in strolling -fairs. In his right he waved a little switch, with which he would -every now and then strike his banner, like a quack retailing his -wares. - -Quite a crowd surrounded this clown, hoping to hear some witty -speeches and puns; but he kept near the door, and remained silent. - -About half-past ten he quitted his post. - -M. and Mme. Fauvel, followed by their niece Madeleine, had just -entered. - -A compact group immediately formed near the door. - -During the last ten days, the affair of the Rue de Provence had been -the universal topic of conversation; and friends and enemies were -alike glad to seize this opportunity of approaching the banker, some -to tender their sympathy, and others to offer equivocal condolence, -which of all things is the most exasperating and insulting. - -Belonging to the battalion of grave, elderly men, M. Fauvel had not -assumed a fancy costume, but merely threw over his shoulders a short -silk domino. - -On his arm leaned Mme. Fauvel, /nee/ Valentine de la Verberie, bowing -and gracefully greeting her numerous friends. - -She had once been remarkably beautiful; and to-night the effect of the -soft wax-lights, and her very becoming dress, half restored her -youthful freshness and comeliness. No one would have supposed her to -be forty-eight years old. - -She wore a dress of the later years of Louis the Fourteenth's reign, -magnificent and severe, of embroidered satin and black velvet, without -the adornment of a single jewel. - -She looked so graceful and elegant in this court dress and powdered -hair, that some ill-natured gossips said it was a pity to see a real -La Verberie, so well fitted to adorn a queen's drawing-room, as all -her ancestors had done before her, thrown away upon a man whom she had -only married for his money. - -But Madeleine was the object of universal admiration, so dazzlingly -beautiful and queenlike did she appear in her costume of maid of -honor, which seemed to have been especially invented to set forth her -beautiful figure. - -Her loveliness expanded in the perfumed atmosphere and soft light of -the ball-room. Never had her hair looked so black, her complexion so -exquisite, or her large eyes so brilliant. - -Having greeted the hosts, Madeleine took her aunt's arm, while M. -Fauvel wandered through the rooms in search of the card-table, the -usual refuge of bored men, when they are enticed to the ball-room by -their womankind. - -The ball was now at its height. - -Two orchestras, led by Strauss and one of his lieutenants, filled the -two mansions with intoxicating music. The motley crowd whirled in the -waltz until they presented a curious confusion of velvets, satins, -laces, and diamonds. Almost every head and bosom sparkled with jewels; -the palest cheeks were rosy; heavy eyes now shone like stars; and the -glistening shoulders of fair women were like drifted snow in an April -sun. - -Forgotten by the crowd, the clown had taken refuge in the embrasure of -a window, and seemed to be meditating upon the gay scene before him; -at the same time, he kept his eye upon a couple not far off. - -It was Madeleine, dancing with a splendidly dressed doge. The doge was -the Marquis de Clameran. - -He appeared to be radiant, rejuvenated, and well satisfied with the -impression he was making upon his partner; at the end of a quadrille -he leaned over her, and whispered compliments with the most unbounded -admiration; and she seemed to listen, if not with pleasure, at least -without repugnance. She now and then smiled, and coquettishly shrugged -her shoulders. - -"Evidently," muttered the clown, "this noble scoundrel is paying court -to the banker's niece; so I was right yesterday. But how can Mlle. -Madeleine resign herself to so graciously receive his insipid -flattery? Fortunately, Prosper is not here now." - -He was interrupted by an elderly man wrapped in a Venetian mantle, who -said to him: - -"You remember, M. Verduret,"--this name was uttered half seriously, -half banteringly--"what you promised me?" - -The clown bowed with great respect, but not the slightest shade of -humility. - -"I remember," he replied. - -"But do not be imprudent, I beg you." - -"M. the Count need not be uneasy; he has my promise." - -"Very good. I know the value of it." - -The count walked off; but during this short colloquy the quadrille had -ended, and M. de Clameran and Madeleine were lost to sight. - -"I shall find them near Mme. Fauvel," said the clown. - -And he at once started in search of the banker's wife. - -Incommoded by the stifling heat of the room, Mme. Fauvel had sought a -little fresh air in the grand picture-gallery, which, thanks to the -talisman called gold, was now transformed into a fairy-like garden, -filled with orange-trees, japonicas, laurel, and many rare exotics. - -The clown saw her seated near a grove, not far from the door of the -card-room. Upon her right was Madeleine, and near her stood Raoul de -Lagors, dressed in a costume of Henri III. - -"I must confess," muttered the clown from his post of observation, -"that the young scamp is a very handsome man." - -Madeleine appeared very sad. She had plucked a japonica from a tree -near by, and was mechanically pulling it to pieces as she sat with her -eyes downcast. - -Raoul and Mme. Fauvel were engaged in earnest conversation. Their -faces were composed, but the gestures of one and the trembling of the -other betrayed a serious discussion. - -In the card-room sat the doge, M. de Clameran, so placed as to have -full view of Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine, although himself concealed by -an angle of the room. - -"It is the continuation of yesterday's scene," thought the clown. "If -I could only get behind the oleander-tree, I might hear what they are -saying." - -He pushed his way through the crowd, and, just as he had reached the -desired spot, Madeleine arose, and, taking the arm of a bejewelled -Persian, walked away. - -At the same moment Raoul went into the card-room, and whispered a few -words to De Clameran. - -"There they go," muttered the clown. "The two scoundrels certainly -hold these poor women in their power; and they are determined to make -them suffer before releasing them. What can be the secret of their -power?" - -His attention was attracted by a commotion in the picture-gallery; it -was caused by the announcement of a wonderful minuet to be danced in -the ball-room; the arrival of the Countess de Commarin as Aurora; and -the presence of the Princess Korasoff, with her superb emeralds, which -were reported to be the finest in the world. - -In an instant the gallery became almost deserted. Only a few forlorn- -looking people remained; mostly sulky husbands, and some melancholy -youths looking awkward and unhappy in their gay fancy dresses. - -The clown thought it a favorable opportunity for carrying out his -project. - -He abruptly left his corner, flourishing his switch, and beating his -banner, and, crossing the gallery, seated himself in a chair between -Mme. Fauvel and the door. As soon as the people had collected in a -circle around him, he commenced to cough in an affected manner, like a -stump orator about to make a speech. - -Then he struck a comical attitude, standing up with his body twisted -sideways, and his hat on one ear, and with great buffoonery and -volubility made the following remarks: - -"Ladies and gentlemen, this very morning I obtained a license from the -authorities of this town. And what for? Why gentlemen, for the purpose -of exhibiting to you a spectacle which has already won the admiration -of the four quarters of the globe, and several universities besides. -Inside of this booth, ladies, is about to commence the representation -of a most remarkable drama, acted for the first time at Pekin, and -translated into several languages by our most celebrated authors. -Gentlemen, you can take your seats; the lamps are lighted, and the -actors are changing their dress." - -Here he stopped speaking, and imitated to perfection the feats which -mountebanks play upon horns and kettle-drums. - -"Now, ladies and gentlemen," he resumed, "you wish to know what I am -doing outside, if the piece is to be performed under the tent. The -fact is, gentlemen, that I wish to give you a foretaste of the -agitations, sensations, emotions, palpitations, and other -entertainments which you may enjoy by paying the small sum of ten -sous. You see this superb picture? It represents eight of the most -thrilling scenes in the drama. Ah, I see you begin to shudder already; -and yet this is nothing compared to the play itself. This splendid -picture gives you no more idea of the acting than a drop of water -gives an idea of the sea, or a spark of fire of the sun. My picture, -gentlemen, is merely to give you a foretaste of what is in the tent; -as the steam oozing from a restaurant gives you a taste, or rather a -smell, of what is within." - -"Do you know this clown?" asked an enormous Turk of a melancholy -Punch. - -"No, but he can imitate a trumpet splendidly." - -"Oh, very well indeed! But what is he driving at?" - -The clown was endeavoring to attract the attention of Mme. Fauvel, -who, since Raoul and Madeleine had left her, sat by herself in a -mournful revery. - -He succeeded in his object. - -The showman's shrill voice brought the banker's wife back to a sense -of reality; she started, and looked quickly about her, as if suddenly -awakened from a troubled dream. - -"Now, ladies, we are in China. The first picture on my canvas, here, -in the left corner"--here he touched the top daub--"represents the -celebrated Mandarin Li-Fo, in the bosom of his family. This pretty -woman leaning over him is his wife; and these children playing on the -carpet are the bonds of love between this happy pair. Do you not -inhale the odor of sanctity and happiness emanating from this speaking -picture, gentlemen? - -"Mme. Li-Fo is the most virtuous of women, adoring her husband and -idolizing her children. Being virtuous she is happy; for the wise -Confucius says, 'The ways of virtue are more pleasant than the ways of -vice.'" - -Mme. Fauvel had left her seat, and approached nearer to the clown. - -"Do you see anything on the banner like what he is describing?" asked -the melancholy Punch of his neighbor. - -"No, not a thing. Do you?" - -The fact is, that the daubs of paint on the canvas represented one -thing as well as another, and the clown could call them whatever he -pleased. - -"Picture No. 2!" he cried, after a flourish of music. "This old lady, -seated before a mirror tearing out her hair--especially the gray ones ---you have seen before; do you recognize her? No, you do not. She is -the fair mandarine of the first picture. I see the tears in your eyes, -ladies and gentlemen. Ah! you have cause to weep; for she is no longer -virtuous, and her happiness has departed with her virtue. Alas, it is -a sad tale! One fatal day she met, on the streets of Pekin, a young -ruffian, fiendish, but beautiful as an angel, and she loved him--the -unfortunate woman loved him!" - -The last words were uttered in the most tragic tone as he raised his -clasped hands to heaven. - -During this tirade he had whirled around, so that he found himself -facing the banker's wife, whose countenance he closely watched while -he was speaking. - -"You are surprised, gentlemen," he continued; "I am not. The great -Bilboquet has proved to us that the heart never grows old, and that -the most vigorous wall-flowers flourish on old ruins. This unhappy -woman is nearly fifty years old--fifty years old, and in love with a -youth! Hence this heart-rending scene which should serve as a warning -to us all." - -"Really!" grumbled a cook dressed in white satin, who had passed the -evening in carrying around bills of fare, which no one read, "I -thought he was going to amuse us." - -"But," continued the clown, "you must go inside of the booth to -witness the effects of the mandarine's folly. At times a ray of reason -penetrates her diseased brain, and then the sight of her anguish would -soften a heart of stone. Enter, and for the small sum of ten sous you -shall hear sobs such as the Odeon never echoed in its halcyon days. -The unhappy woman has waked up to the absurdity and inanity of her -blind passion; she confesses to herself that she is madly pursuing a -phantom. She knows but too well that he, in the vigor and beauty of -youth, cannot love a faded old woman like herself, who vainly makes -pitiable efforts to retain the last remains of her once entrancing -beauty. She feels that the sweet words he once whispered in her -charmed ear were deceitful falsehoods. She knows that the day is near -when she will be left alone, with nothing save his mantle in her -hand." - -As the clown addressed this voluble description to the crowd before -him, he narrowly watched the countenance of the banker's wife. - -But nothing he had said seemed to affect her. She leaned back in her -arm-chair perfectly calm, and occasionally smiled at the tragic manner -of the showman. - -"Good heavens!" muttered the clown uneasily, "can I be on the wrong -track?" - -He saw that his circle of listeners was increased by the presence of -the doge, M. de Clameran. - -"The third picture," he said, after a roll of drums, "depicts the old -mandarine after she has dismissed that most annoying of guests-- -remorse--from her bosom. She promises herself that interest shall -supply the place of love in chaining the too seductive youth to her -side. It is with this object that she invests him with false honors -and dignity, and introduces him to the chief mandarins of the capital -of the Celestial Empire; then, since so handsome a youth must cut a -fine figure in society, and as a fine figure cannot be cut without -money, the lady must needs to sacrifice all of her possessions for his -sake. Necklaces, rings, bracelets, diamonds, and pearls, all are -surrendered. The monster carries all these jewels to the pawnbrokers -on Tien-Tsi Street, and then has the cruelty to refuse her the -tickets, so that she may have a chance of redeeming her treasures." - -The clown thought that at last he had hit the mark. Mme. Fauvel began -to betray signs of agitation. - -Once she made an attempt to rise from her chair; but it seemed as if -her strength failed her, and she sank back, forced to listen to the -end. - -"Finally, ladies and gentlemen," continued the clown, "the richly -stored jewel-cases became empty. The day came when the mandarine had -nothing more to give. It was then that the young scoundrel conceived -the project of carrying off the jasper button belonging to the -Mandarin Li-Fo--a splendid jewel of incalculable value, which, being -the badge of his dignity, was kept in a granite chest, and guarded by -three soldiers night and day. Ah! the mandarine resisted a long time! -She knew the innocent soldiers would be accused and crucified, as is -the custom in Pekin; and this thought restrained her. But her lover -besought her so tenderly, that she finally yielded to his entreaties; -and--the jasper button was stolen. The fourth picture represents the -guilty couple stealthily creeping down the private stairway: see their -frightened look--see--" - -He abruptly stopped. Three or four of his auditors rushed to the -assistance of Mme. Fauvel, who seemed about to faint; and at the same -time he felt his arm roughly seized by someone behind him. - -He turned around and faced De Clameran and Lagors, both of whom were -pale with anger. - -"What do you want, gentlemen?" he inquired politely. - -"To speak to you," they both answered. - -"I am at your service." - -And he followed them to the end of the picture-gallery, near a window -opening on a balcony. - -Here they were unobserved except by the man in the Venetian cloak, -whom the clown had so respectfully addressed as "M. the Count." - -The minuet having ended, the orchestras were resting, and the crowd -began to rapidly fill the gallery. - -The sudden faintness of Mme. Fauvel had passed off unnoticed save by a -few, who attributed it to the heat of the room. M. Fauvel had been -sent for; but when he came hurrying in, and found his wife composedly -talking to Madeleine, his alarm was dissipated, and he returned to the -card-tables. - -Not having as much control over his temper as Raoul, M. de Clameran -angrily said: - -"In the first place, monsieur, I would like to know who you are." - -The clown determined to answer as if he thought the question were a -jest, replied in the bantering tone of a buffoon: - -"You want my passport, do you, my lord doge? I left it in the hands of -the city authorities; it contains my name, age, profession, domicile, -and every detail--" - -With an angry gesture, M. de Clameran interrupted him. - -"You have just committed a gross insult!" - -"I, my lord doge?" - -"Yes, you! What do you mean by telling this abominable story in this -house?" - -"Abominable! You may call it abominable; but I, who composed it, have -a different opinion of it." - -"Enough, monsieur; you will at least have the courage to acknowledge -that your performance was a vile insinuation against Mme. Fauvel?" - -The clown stood with his head thrown back, and mouth wide open, as if -astounded at what he heard. - -But anyone who knew him would have seen his bright black eyes -sparkling with malicious satisfaction. - -"Bless my heart!" he cried, as if speaking to himself. "This is the -strangest thing I ever heard of! How can my drama of the Mandarine Li- -Fo have any reference to Mme. Fauvel, whom I don't know from Adam or -Eve? I can't think how the resemblance----unless----but no, that is -impossible." - -"Do you pretend," said M. de Clameran, "to be ignorant of M. Fauvel's -misfortune?" - -The clown looked very innocent, and asked: - -"What misfortune?" - -"The robbery of which M. Fauvel was the victim. It has been in -everyone's mouth, and you must have heard of it." - -"Ah, yes, yes; I remember. His cashier ran off with three hundred and -fifty thousand francs. Pardieu! It is a thing that almost daily -happens. But, as to discovering any connection between this robbery -and my play, that is another matter." - -M. de Clameran made no reply. A nudge from Lagors had calmed him as if -by enchantment. - -He looked quietly at the clown, and seemed to regret having uttered -the significant words forced from him by angry excitement. - -"Very well," he finally said in his usual haughty tone; "I must have -been mistaken. I accept your explanation." - -But the clown, hitherto so humble and silly-looking, seemed to take -offence at the word, and, assuming a defiant attitude, said: - -"I have not made, nor do I intend making, any explanation." - -"Monsieur," began De Clameran. - -"Allow me to finish, if you please. If, unintentionally, I have -offended the wife of a man whom I highly esteem, it is his business to -seek redress, and not yours. Perhaps you will tell me he is too old to -demand satisfaction: if so, let him send one of his sons. I saw one of -them in the ball-room to-night; let him come. You asked me who I am; -in return I ask you who are you--you who undertake to act as Mme. -Fauvel's champion? Are you her relative, friend, or ally? What right -have you to insult her by pretending to discover an allusion to her in -a play invented for amusement?" - -There was nothing to be said in reply to this. M. de Clameran sought a -means of escape. - -"I am a friend of M. Fauvel," he said, "and this title gives me the -right to be as jealous of his reputation as if it were my own. If this -is not a sufficient reason for my interference, I must inform you that -his family will shortly be mine: I regard myself as his nephew." - -"Ah!" - -"Next week, monsieur, my marriage with Madeleine will be publicly -announced." - -This news was so unexpected, so startling that for a moment the clown -was dumb; and now his surprise was genuine. - -But he soon recovered himself, and, bowing with deference, said, with -covert irony: - -"Permit me to offer my congratulations, monsieur. Besides being the -belle to-night, Mlle. Madeleine is worth, I hear, half a million." - -Raoul de Lagors had anxiously been watching the people near them, to -see if they overheard this conversation. - -"We have had enough of this gossip," he said, in a disdainful tone; "I -will only say one thing more, master clown, and that is, that your -tongue is too long." - -"Perhaps it is, my pretty youth, perhaps it is; but my arm is still -longer." - -De Clameran here interrupted them by saying: - -"It is impossible for one to seek an explanation from a man who -conceals his identity under the guise of a fool." - -"You are at liberty, my lord doge, to ask the master of the house who -I am--if you dare." - -"You are," cried Clameran, "you are--" - -A warning look from Raoul checked the forge-master from using an -epithet which would have led to an affray, or at least a scandalous -scene. - -The clown stood by with a sardonic smile, and, after a moment's -silence, stared M. de Clameran steadily in the face, and in measured -tones said: - -"I was the best friend, monsieur, that your brother Gaston ever had. I -was his adviser, and the confidant of his last wishes." - -These few words fell like a clap of thunder upon De Clameran. - -He turned deadly pale, and stared back with his hands stretched out -before him, as if shrinking from a phantom. - -He tried to answer, to protest against this assertion, but the words -froze on his lips. His fright was pitiable. - -"Come, let us go," said Lagors, who was perfectly cool. - -And he dragged Clameran away, half supporting him, for he staggered -like a drunken man, and clung to every object he passed, to prevent -falling. - -"Oh," exclaimed the clown, in three different tones, "oh, oh!" - -He himself was almost as much astonished as the forge-master, and -remained rooted to the spot, watching the latter as he slowly left the -room. - -It was with no decided object in view that he had ventured to use the -last mysteriously threatening words, but he had been inspired to do so -by his wonderful instinct, which with him was like the scent of a -blood-hound. - -"What can this mean?" he murmured. "Why was he so frightened? What -terrible memory have I awakened in his base soul? I need not boast of -my penetration, or the subtlety of my plans. There is a great master, -who, without any effort, in an instant destroys all my chimeras; he is -called 'Chance.'" - -His mind had wandered far from the present scene, when he was brought -back to his situation by someone touching him on the shoulder. It was -the man in the Venetian cloak. - -"Are you very satisfied, M. Verduret?" he inquired. - -"Yes, and no, M. the Count. No, because I have not completely achieved -the object I had in view when I asked you for an invitation here -to-night; yes, because these two rascals behaved in a manner which -dispels all doubt." - -"And yet you complain--" - -"I do not complain, M. the Count: on the contrary, I bless chance, or -rather Providence, which has just revealed to me the existence of a -secret that I did not before even suspect." - -Five or six people approached the count, and he went off with them -after giving the clown a friendly nod. - -The latter instantly threw aside his banner, and started in pursuit of -Mme. Fauvel. He found her sitting on a sofa in the large salon, -engaged in an animated conversation with Madeleine. - -"Of course they are talking over the scene; but what has become of -Lagors and De Clameran?" - -He soon saw them wandering among the groups scattered about the room, -and eagerly asking questions. - -"I will bet my head these honorable gentlemen are trying to find out -who I am. Keep it up, my friends, ask everybody in the room; I wish -you success!" - -They soon gave it up, but were so preoccupied, and anxious to be alone -in order to reflect and deliberate, that, without waiting for supper, -they took leave of Mme. Fauvel and her niece, saying they were going -home. - -The clown saw them go up to the dressing-room for their cloaks, and in -a few minutes leave the house. - -"I have nothing more to do here," he murmured; "I might as well go -too." - -He completely covered his dress with a domino, and started for home, -thinking the cold frosty air would cool his confused brain. - -He lit a cigar, and, walking up the Rue St. Lazare, crossed the Rue -Notre Dame de Lorette, and struck into the Faubourg Montmartre. - -A man suddenly started out from some place of concealment, and rushed -upon him with a dagger. - -Fortunately the clown had a cat-like instinct, which enabled him to -protect himself against immediate danger, and detect any which -threatened. - -He saw, or rather divined, the man crouching in the dark shadow of a -house, and had the presence of mind to strike an attitude which -enabled him to ward off the assassin by spreading out his arms before -him. - -This movement certainly saved his life; for he received in his arm a -furious stab, which would have instantly killed him had it penetrated -his breast. - -Anger, more than pain, made him cry out: - -"Ah, you villain!" - -And recoiling a few feet, he put himself on the defensive. - -But the precaution was useless. - -Seeing his blow miss, the assassin did not return to the attack, but -made rapidly off. - -"That was certainly Lagors," said the clown, "and Clameran must be -somewhere near. While I walked around one side of the church, they -must have gone the other and lain in wait for me." - -His wound began to pain him; he stood under a gas-lamp to examine it. - -It did not appear to be dangerous, but the arm was cut through to the -bone. - -He tore his handkerchief into four bands, and tied his arm up with the -dexterity of a surgeon. - -"I must be on the track of some great crime, since these fellows are -resolved upon murder. When such cunning rogues are only in danger of -the police court, they do not gratuitously risk the chance of being -tried for murder." - -He thought by enduring a great deal of pain he might still use his -arm; so he started in pursuit of his enemy, taking care to keep in the -middle of the road, and avoid all dark corners. - -Although he saw no one, he was convinced that he was being pursued. - -He was not mistaken. When he reached the Boulevard Montmartre, he -crossed the street, and, as he did so, distinguished two shadows which -he recognized. They crossed the same street a little higher up. - -"I have to deal with desperate men," he muttered. "They do not even -take pains to conceal their pursuit of me. They seem to be accustomed -to this kind of adventure, and the carriage trick which fooled -Fanferlot would never succeed with them. Besides, my light hat is a -perfect beacon to lead them on in the night." He continued his way up -the boulevard, and, without turning his head, was sure that his -enemies were thirty feet behind him. - -"I must get rid of them somehow," he said to himself. "I can neither -return home nor to the Archangel with these devils at my heels. They -are following me to find out where I live, and who I am. If they -discover that the clown is M. Verduret, and that M. Verduret is M. -Lecoq, my plans will be ruined. They will escape abroad with the -money, and I shall be left to console myself with a wounded arm. A -pleasant ending to all my exertions!" - -The idea of Raoul and Clameran escaping him so exasperated him that -for an instant he thought of having them arrested at once. - -This was easy; for he had only to rush upon them, scream for help, and -they would all three be arrested, carried to the watch-house, and -consigned to the commissary of police. - -The police often resort to this ingenious and simple means of -arresting a malefactor for whom they are on the lookout, and whom they -cannot seize without a warrant. - -The next day there is a general explanation, and the parties, if -innocent, are dismissed. - -The clown had sufficient proof to sustain him in the arrest of Lagors. -He could show the letter and the mutilated prayer-book, he could -reveal the existence of the pawnbroker's tickets in the house at -Vesinet, he could display his wounded arm. He could force Raoul to -confess how and why he had assumed the name of Lagors, and what his -motive was in passing himself off for a relative of M. Fauvel. - -On the other hand, in acting thus hastily, he was insuring the safety -of the principal plotter, De Clameran. What proofs had he against him? -Not one. He had strong suspicions, but no well-grounded charge to -produce against him. - -On reflection the clown decided that he would act alone, as he had -thus far done, and that alone and unaided he would discover the truth -of all his suspicions. - -Having reached this decision, the first step to be taken was to put -his followers on the wrong scent. - -He walked rapidly up the Rue Sebastopol, and, reaching the square of -the Arts et Metiers, he abruptly stopped, and asked some insignificant -questions of two constables who were standing talking together. - -The manoeuvre had the result he expected; Raoul and Clameran stood -perfectly still about twenty steps off, not daring to advance. - -Twenty steps! That was as much start as the clown wanted. While -talking with the constables, he had pulled the bell of the door before -which they were standing, and its hollow sound apprised him that the -door was open. He bowed, and entered the house. - -A minute later the constables had passed on, and Lagors and Clameran -in their turn rang the bell. When the concierge appeared, they asked -who it was that had just gone in disguised as a clown. - -They were told that no such person had entered, and that none of the -lodgers had gone out disguised that night. "However," added the -concierge, "I am not very sure, for this house has a back door which -opens on the Rue St. Denis." - -"We are tricked," interrupted Lagors, "and will never know who the -clown is." - -"Unless we learn it too soon for our own good," said Clameran -musingly. - -While Lagors and Clameran were anxiously trying to devise some means -of discovering the clown's identity, Verduret hurried up the back -street, and reached the Archangel as the clock struck three. - -Prosper, who was watching from his window, saw him in the distance, -and ran down to open the door for him. - -"What have you learned?" he said; "what did you find out? Did you see -Madeleine? Were Raoul and Clameran at the ball?" - -But M. Verduret was not in the habit of discussing private affairs -where he might be overheard. - -"First of all, let us go into your room, and get some water to wash -this cut, which burns like fire." - -"Heavens! Are you wounded?" - -"Yes, it is a little souvenir of your friend Raoul. Ah, I will soon -teach him the danger of chopping up a man's arm!" - -Prosper was surprised at the look of merciless rage on his friend's -face, as he calmly washed and dressed his arm. - -"Now, Prosper, we will talk as much as you please. Our enemies are on -the alert, and we must crush them instantly, or not at all. I have -made a mistake. I have been on the wrong track; it is an accident -liable to happen to any man, no matter how intelligent he may be. I -took the effect for the cause. The day I was convinced that culpable -relations existed between Raoul and Mme. Fauvel, I thought I held the -end of the thread that must lead us to the truth. I should have been -more mistrustful; this solution was too simple, too natural." - -"Do you suppose Mme. Fauvel to be innocent?" - -"Certainly not. But her guilt is not such as I first supposed. I -imagined that, infatuated with a seductive young adventurer, Mme. -Fauvel had first bestowed upon him the name of one of her relatives, -and then introduced him as her nephew. This was an adroit stratagem to -gain him admission to her husband's house. - -"She began by giving him all the money she could could dispose of; -later she let him take her jewels to the pawnbrokers; when she had -nothing more to give, she allowed him to steal the money from her -husband's safe. That is what I first thought." - -"And in this way everything was explained?" - -"No, this did not explain everything, as I well knew at the time, and -should, consequently, have studied my characters more thoroughly. How -is Clameran's position to be accounted for, if my first idea was the -correct one?" - -"Clameran is Lagors's accomplice of course." - -"Ah, there is the mistake! I for a long time believed Lagors to be the -principal person, when, in fact, he is not. Yesterday, in a dispute -between them, the forge-master said to his dear friend, 'And, above -all things, my friend, I would advise you not to resist me, for if you -do I will crush you to atoms.' That explains all. The elegant Lagors -is not the lover of Mme. Fauvel, but the tool of Clameran. Besides, -did our first suppositions account for the resigned obedience of -Madeleine? It is Clameran, and not Lagors, whom Madeleine obeys." - -Prosper began to remonstrate. - -M. Verduret shrugged his shoulders. To convince Prosper he had only to -utter one word: to tell him that three hours ago Clameran had -announced his intended marriage with Madeleine; but he did not. - -"Clameran," he continued, "Clameran alone has Mme. Fauvel in his -power. Now, the question is, what is the secret of this terrible -influence he has gained over her? I have positive proof that they have -not met since their early youth until fifteen months ago; and, as Mme. -Fauvel's reputation has always been above the reach of slander, we -must seek in the past for the cause of her resigned obedience to his -will." - -"We can never discover it," said Prosper mournfully. - -"We can discover it as soon as we know Clameran's past life. Ah, -to-night he turned as white as a sheet when I mentioned his brother -Gaston's name. And then I remembered that Gaston died suddenly, while -his brother Louis was making a visit." - -"Do you think he was murdered?" - -"I think the men who tried to assassinate me would do anything. The -robbery, my friend, has now become a secondary detail. It is quite -easily explained, and, if that were all to be accounted for, I would -say to you, My task is done, let us go ask the judge of instruction -for a warrant of arrest." - -Prosper started up with sparkling eyes. - -"Ah, you know--is it possible?" - -"Yes, I know who gave the key, and I know who told the secret word." - -"The key might have been M. Fauvel's. But the word----" - -"The word you were foolish enough to give. You have forgotten, I -suppose. But fortunately Gypsy remembered. You know that, two days -before the robbery, you took Lagors and two other friends to sup with -Mme. Gypsy? Nina was sad, and reproached you for not being more -devoted to her." - -"Yes, I remember that." - -"But do you remember what you replied to her?" - -"No, I do not," said Prosper after thinking a moment. - -"Well, I will tell you: 'Nina, you are unjust in reproaching me with -not thinking constantly of you; for at this very moment your dear name -guards M. Fauvel's safe.'" - -The truth suddenly burst upon Prosper like a thunderclap. He wrung his -hands despairingly, and cried: - -"Yes, oh, yes! I remember now." - -"Then you can easily understand the rest. One of the scoundrels went -to Mme. Fauvel, and compelled her to give up her husband's key; then, -at a venture, placed the movable buttons on the name of Gypsy, opened -the safe, and took the three hundred and fifty thousand francs. And -Mme. Fauvel must have been terribly frightened before she yielded. The -day after the robbery the poor woman was near dying; and it was she -who at the greatest risk sent you the ten thousand francs." - -"But which was the thief, Raoul or Clameran? What enables them to thus -tyrannize over Mme. Fauvel? And how does Madeleine come to be mixed up -in the affair?" - -"These questions, my dear Prosper, I cannot yet answer; therefore I -postpone seeing the judge. I only ask you to wait ten days; and, if I -cannot in that time discover the solution of this mystery, I will -return and go with you to report to M. Patrigent all that we know." - -"Are you going to leave the city?" - -"In an hour I shall be on the road to Beaucaire. It was from that -neighborhood that Clameran came, as well as Mme. Fauvel, who was a -Mlle. de la Verberie before marriage." - -"Yes, I knew both families." - -"I must go there to study them. Neither Raoul nor Clameran can escape -during my absence. The police are watching them. But you, Prosper, -must be prudent. Promise me to remain a prisoner here during my trip." - -All that M. Verduret asked, Prosper willingly promised. But he did not -wish to be left in complete ignorance of his projects for the future, -or of his motives in the past. - -"Will you not tell me, monsieur, who you are, and what reasons you had -for coming to my rescue?" - -The extraordinary man smiled sadly, and said: - -"I tell, in the presence of Nina, on the day before your marriage with -Madeleine." - -Once left to his own reflections, Prosper began to appreciate the -powerful assistance rendered by his friend. - -Recalling the field of investigation gone over by his mysterious -protector, he was amazed at its extent. - -How many facts had been discovered in a week, and with what precision, -although he had pretended to be on the wrong track! Verduret had -grouped his evidence, and reached a result which Prosper felt he never -could have hoped to attain by his own exertions. - -He was conscious that he possessed neither Verduret's penetration nor -his subtlety. He did not possess this art of compelling obedience, of -creating friends at every step, and the science of making men and -circumstances unite in the attainment of a common result. - -He began to regret the absence of his friend, who had risen up in the -hour of adversity. He missed the sometimes rough but always kindly -voice, which had encouraged and consoled him. - -He felt wofully lost and helpless, not daring to act or think for -himself, more timid than a child when deserted by his nurse. - -He had the good sense to follow the recommendations of his mentor. He -remained shut up in the Archangel, not even appearing at the windows. - -Twice he had news of M. Verduret. The first time he received a letter -in which this friend said he had seen his father, and had had a long -talk with him. Afterward, Dubois, M. de Clameran's valet, came to tell -him that his "patron" reported everything as progressing finely. - -On the ninth day of his voluntary seclusion, Prosper began to feel -restless, and at ten o'clock at night set forth to take a walk, -thinking the fresh air would relieve the headache which had kept him -awake the previous night. - -Mme. Alexandre, who seemed to have some knowledge of M. Verduret's -affairs, begged Prosper to remain at home. - -"What can I risk by taking a walk at this time, in a quiet part of the -city?" he asked. "I can certainly stroll as far as the Jardin des -Plantes without meeting anyone." - -Unfortunately he did not strictly follow this programme; for, having -reached the Orleans railway station, he went into a cafe near by, and -called for a glass of ale. - -As he sat sipping his glass, he picked up a daily paper, /The Sun/, -and under the head of "Fashionable Gossip," signed Jacques Durand, -read the following: - - - "We understand that the niece of one of our most prominent bankers, - M. Andre Fauvel, will shortly be married to M. le Marquis Louis de - Clameran. The engagement has been announced." - - -This news, coming upon him so unexpectedly, proved to Prosper the -justness of M. Verduret's calculations. - -Alas! why did not this certainty inspire him with absolute faith? why -did it not give him courage to wait, the strength of mind to refrain -from acting on his own responsibility? - -Frenzied by distress of mind, he already saw Madeleine indissolubly -united to this villain, and, thinking that M. Verduret would perhaps -arrive too late to be of use, determined at all risks to throw an -obstacle in the way of the marriage. - -He called for pen and paper, and forgetting that no situation can -excuse the mean cowardice of an anonymous letter, wrote in a disguised -hand the following lines to M. Fauvel: - - - "DEAR SIR--You consigned your cashier to prison; you acted - prudently, since you were convinced of his dishonesty and - faithlessness. - - "But, even if he stole three hundred and fifty thousand francs from - your safe, does it follow that he also stole Mme. Fauvel's - diamonds, and pawned them at the Mont-de-Piete, where they now - are? - - "Warned as you are, if I were you, I would not be the subject of - public scandal. I would watch my wife, and would be distrustful of - handsome cousins. - - "Moreover, I would, before signing the marriage contract of Mlle. - Madeleine, inquire at the Prefecture of Police, and obtain some - information concerning the noble Marquis de Clameran. - -"A FRIEND." - - -Prosper hastened off to post his letter. Fearing that it would not -reach M. Fauvel in time, he walked up to the Rue Cardinal Lemoine, and -put it in the main letter-box, so as to be certain of its speedy -delivery. - -Until now he had not doubted the propriety of his action. - -But now when too late, when he heard the sound of his letter falling -into the box, a thousand scruples filled his mind. Was it not wrong to -act thus hurriedly? Would not this letter interfere with M. Verduret's -plans? Upon reaching the hotel, his doubts were changed into bitter -regrets. - -Joseph Dubois was waiting for him; he had received a despatch from his -patron, saying that his business was finished, and that he would -return the next evening at nine o'clock. - -Prosper was wretched. He would have given all he had to recover the -anonymous letter. - -And he had cause for regret. - -At that very hour M. Verduret was taking his seat in the cars at -Tarascon, meditating upon the most advantageous plan to be adopted in -pursuance of his discoveries. - -For he had discovered everything, and now must bring matters to a -crisis. - -Adding to what he already knew, the story of an old nurse of Mlle. de -la Verberie, the affidavit of an old servant who had always lived in -the Clameran family, and the depositions of the Vesinet husband and -wife who attended M. Lagors at his country house, the latter having -been sent to him by Dubois (Fanferlot), with a good deal of -information obtained from the prefecture of police, he had worked up a -complete case, and could now act upon a chain of evidence without a -missing link. - -As he had predicted, he had been compelled to search into the distant -past for the first causes of the crime of which Prosper had been the -victim. - -The following is the drama, as he wrote it out for the benefit of the -judge of instruction, knowing that it would contain grounds for an -indictment against the malefactors. - - - -XII - -THE DRAMA - -About two leagues from Tarascon, on the left bank of the Rhone, not -far from the wonderful gardens of M. Audibert, stood the chateau of -Clameran, a weather-stained, neglected, but massive structure. - -Here lived, in 1841, the old Marquis de Clameran and his two sons, -Gaston and Louis. - -The marquis was an eccentric old man. He belonged to the race of -nobles, now almost extinct, whose watches stopped in 1789, and who -kept time with the past century. - -More attached to his illusions than to his life, the old marquis -insisted upon considering all the stirring events which had happened -since the first revolution as a series of deplorable practical jokes. - -Emigrating with the Count d'Artois, he did not return to France until -1815, with the allies. - -He should have been thankful to Heaven for the recovery of a portion -of his immense family estates; a comparatively small portion, to be -sure, but full enough to support him comfortably: he said, however, -that he did not think the few paltry acres were worth thanking God -for. - -At first, he tried every means to obtain an appointment at court; but -seeing all his efforts fail, he resolved to retire to his chateau, -which he did, after cursing and pitying his king, whom he had -worshipped. - -He soon became accustomed to the free and indolent life of a country -gentleman. - -Possessing fifteen thousand francs a year, he spent twenty-five or -thirty thousand, borrowing from every source, saying that a genuine -restoration would soon take place, and that then he would regain -possession of all his properties. - -Following his example, his younger son lived extravagantly. Louis was -always in pursuit of adventure, and idled away his time in drinking -and gambling. The elder son, Gaston, anxious to participate in the -stirring events of the time, prepared himself for action by quietly -working, studying, and reading certain papers and pamphlets -surreptitiously received, the very mention of which was considered a -hanging matter by his father. - -Altogether the old marquis was the happiest of mortals, living well, -drinking high, hunting much, tolerated by the peasants, and execrated -by the gentlemen of the neighborhood, who regarded him with contempt -and raillery. - -Time never hung heavy on his hands, except in mid-summer, when the -valley of the Rhone was intensely hot; and even then he had infallible -means of amusement, always new, though ever the same. - -He detested, above all, his neighbor the Countess de la Verberie. - -The Countess de la Verberie, the "bete noire" of the marquis, as he -ungallantly termed her, was a tall, dry woman, angular in appearance -and character, cold and arrogant toward her equals, and domineering -over her inferiors. - -Like her noble neighbor, she too had emigrated; and her husband was -afterward killed at Lutzen, but unfortunately not in the French ranks. - -In 1815, the countess came back to France. But while the Marquis de -Clameran returned to comparative ease, she could obtain nothing from -royal munificence, but the small estate and chateau of La Verberie. - -It is true that the chateau of La Verberie would have contented most -people; but the countess never ceased to complain of her unmerited -poverty, as she called it. - -The pretty chateau was more modest in appearance than the manor of the -Clamerans; but it was equally comfortable, and much better regulated -by its proud mistress. - -It was built in the middle of a beautiful park, one of the wonders of -that part of the country. It reached from the Beaucaire road to the -river-bank, a marvel of beauty, with its superb old oaks, yoke-elms, -and lovely groves, its meadow, and clear stream of water winding in -among the trees. - -The countess had but one child--a lovely girl of eighteen, named -Valentine; fair, slender, and graceful, with large, soft eyes, -beautiful enough to make the stone saints of the village church thrill -in their niches, when she knelt piously at their feet. - -The renown of her great beauty, carried on the rapid waters of the -Rhone, was spread far and wide. - -Often the bargemen and the robust wagoners, driving their powerful -horses along the road, would stop to gaze with admiration upon -Valentine seated under some grand old tree on the banks of the river, -absorbed in her book. - -At a distance her white dress and flowing tresses made her seem a -mysterious spirit from another world, these honest people said; they -thought it a good omen when they caught a glimpse of her as they -passed up the river. All along between Arles and Valence she was -spoken of as the "lovely fairy" of La Verberie. - -If M. de Clameran detested the countess, Mme. de la Verberie execrated -the marquis. If he nicknamed her "the witch," she never called him -anything but "the old gander." - -And yet they should have agreed, for at heart they cherished the same -opinions, with different ways of viewing them. - -He considered himself a philosopher, scoffed at everything, and had an -excellent digestion. She nursed her rancor, and grew yellow and thin -from rage and envy. - -Nevertheless, they might have spent many pleasant evenings together, -for, after all, they were neighbors. From Clameran could be seen -Valentine's greyhound running about the park of La Verberie; from La -Verberie glimpses were had of the lights in the dining-room windows of -Clameran. - -And, as regularly as these lights appeared, every evening, the -countess would say, in a spiteful tone: - -"Ah, now their orgies are about to commence!" - -The two chateaux were only separated by the fast-flowing Rhone, which -at this spot was rather narrow. - -But between the two families existed a hatred deeper and more -difficult to avert than the course of the Rhone. - -What was the cause of this hatred? - -The countess, no less than the marquis, would have found it difficult -to tell. - -It was said that under the reign of Henri IV. or Louis XIII. a La -Verberie betrayed the affections of a fair daughter of the Clamerans. - -This misdeed led to a duel and bloodshed. - -This groundwork of facts had been highly embellished by fiction; -handed down from generation to generation, it had now become a long -tragic history of robbery, murder, and rapine, which precluded any -intercourse between the two families. - -The usual result followed, as it always does in real life, and often -in romances, which, however exaggerated they may be, generally -preserve a reflection of the truth which inspires them. - -Gaston met Valentine at an entertainment; he fell in love with her at -first sight. - -Valentine saw Gaston, and from that moment his image filled her heart. - -But so many obstacles separated them! - -For over a year they both religiously guarded their secret, buried -like a treasure in the inmost recesses of their hearts. - -And this year of charming, dangerous reveries decided their fate. To -the sweetness of the first impression succeeded a more tender -sentiment; then came love, each having endowed the other with -superhuman qualities and ideal perfections. - -Deep, sincere passion can only expand in solitude; in the impure air -of a city it fades and dies, like the hardy plants which lose their -color and perfume when transplanted to hot-houses. - -Gaston and Valentine had only seen each other once, but seeing was to -love; and, as the time passed, their love grew stronger, until at last -the fatality which had presided over their first meeting brought them -once more together. - -They both happened to be spending the day with the old Duchess -d'Arlange, who had returned to the neighborhood to sell her property. - -They spoke to each other, and like old friends, surprised to find that -they both entertained the same thoughts and echoed the same memories. - -Again they were separated for months. But soon, as if by accident, -they happened to be at a certain hour on the banks of the Rhone, and -would sit and gaze across at each other. - -Finally, one mild May evening, when Mme. de la Verberie had gone to -Beaucaire, Gaston ventured into the park, and appeared before -Valentine. - -She was not surprised or indignant. Genuine innocence displays none of -the startled modesty assumed by conventional innocence. It never -occurred to Valentine that she ought to bid Gaston to leave her. - -She leaned upon his arm, and strolled up and down the grand old avenue -of oaks. They did not say they loved each other, they felt it; but -they did say that their love was hopeless. They well knew that the -inveterate family feud could never be overcome, and that it would be -folly to attempt it. They swore never, never to forget each other, and -tearfully resolved never to meet again; never, not even once more! - -Alas! Valentine was not without excuse. With a timid, loving heart, -her expansive affection was repressed and chilled by a harsh mother. -Never had there been one of those long private talks between the -Countess de la Verberie and Valentine which enabled a good mother to -read her daughter's heart like an open book. - -Mme. de la Verberie saw nothing but her daughter's beauty. She was -wont to rub her hands, and say: - -"Next winter I will borrow enough money to take the child to Paris, -and I am much mistaken if her beauty does not win her a rich husband -who will release me from poverty." - -She called this loving her daughter! - -The second meeting was not the last. Gaston dared not trust to a -boatman, so he was obliged to walk a league in order to cross the -bridge. Then he thought it would be shorter to swim the river; but he -could not swim well, and to cross the Rhone where it ran so rapidly -was rash for the most skilful swimmers. - -One evening, however, Valentine was startled by seeing him rise out of -the water at her feet. - -She made him promise never to attempt this exploit again. He repeated -the feat and the promise the next evening and every successive -evening. - -As Valentine always imagined he was being drowned in the furious -current, they agreed upon a signal. At the moment of starting, Gaston -would put a light in his window at Clameran, and in fifteen minutes he -would be at his idol's feet. - -What were the projects and hopes of the lovers? Alas! they projected -nothing, they hoped for nothing. - -Blindly, thoughtlessly, almost fearlessly, they abandoned themselves -to the dangerous happiness of a daily rendezvous; regardless of the -storm that must erelong burst over their devoted heads, they revelled -in their present bliss. - -Is not every sincere passion thus? Passion subsists upon itself and in -itself; and the very things which ought to extinguish it, absence and -obstacles, only make it burn more fiercely. It is exclusive and -undisturbed; reflects neither of the past nor of the future; excepting -the present, it sees and cares for nothing. - -Moreover, Valentine and Gaston believed everyone ignorant of their -secret. - -They had always been so cautious! they had kept such strict watch! -They had flattered themselves that their conduct had been a -masterpiece of dissimulation and prudence. - -Valentine had fixed upon the hour when she was certain her mother -would not miss her. Gaston had never confided to anyone, not even to -his brother Louis. They never breathed each other's name. They denied -themselves a last sweet word, a last kiss, when they felt it would be -more safe. - -Poor blind lovers! As if anything could be concealed from the idle -curiosity of country gossips; from the slanderous and ever-watchful -enemies who are incessantly on the lookout for some new bit of tittle- -tattle, good or bad, which they improve upon, and eagerly spread far -and near. - -They believed their secret well kept, whereas it had long since been -made public; the story of their love, the particulars of their -rendezvous, were topics of conversation throughout the neighborhood. - -Sometimes, at dusk, they would see a bark gliding along the water, -near the shore, and would say to each other: - -"It is a belated fisherman, returning home." - -They were mistaken. The boat contained malicious spies, who delighted -in having discovered them, and hastened to report, with a thousand -false additions, the result of their expedition. - -One dreary November evening, Gaston was awakened to the true state of -affairs. The Rhone was so swollen by heavy rains that an inundation -was daily expected. To attempt to swim across this impetuous torrent, -would be tempting God. Therefore Gaston went to Tarascon, intending to -cross the bridge there, and walk along the bank to the usual place of -meeting at La Verberie. Valentine expected him at eleven o'clock. - -Whenever Gaston went to Tarascon, he dined with a relative living -there; but on this occasion a strange fatality led him to accompany a -friend to the hotel of the "Three Emperors." - -After dinner, they went not the Cafe Simon, their usual resort, but to -the little cafe in the market-place, where the fairs were held. - -The small dining-hall was filled with young men. Gaston and his friend -called for a bottle of beer, and began to play billiards. - -After they had been playing a short time, Gaston's attention was -attracted by peals of laughter from a party at the other end of the -room. - -From this moment, preoccupied by this continued laughter, of which he -was evidently the subject, he knocked the balls carelessly in every -direction. His conduct surprised his friend, who said to him: - -"What is the matter? You are missing the simplest shots." - -"It is nothing." - -The game went on a while longer, when Gaston suddenly turned as white -as a sheet, and, throwing down his cue, strode toward the table which -was occupied by five young men, playing dominoes and drinking wine. - -He addressed the eldest of the group, a handsome man of twenty-six, -with fierce-looking eyes, and a heavy black mustache, named Jules -Lazet. - -"Repeat, if you dare," he said, in a voice trembling with passion, -"the remark you just now made!" - -"I certainly will repeat it," said Lazet, calmly. "I said, and I say -it again, that a nobleman's daughter is no better than a mechanic's -daughter; that virtue does not always accompany a titled name." - -"You mentioned a particular name!" - -Lazet rose from his chair as if he knew his answer would exasperate -Gaston, and that from words they would come to blows. - -"I did," he said, with an insolent smile: "I mentioned the name of the -pretty little fairy of La Verberie." - -All the coffee-drinkers, and even two travelling agents who were -dining in the cafe, rose and surrounded the two young men. - -The provoking looks, the murmurs, or rather shouts, which welcomed him -as he walked up to Lazet, proved to Gaston that he was surrounded by -enemies. - -The wickedness and evil tongue of the old marquis were bearing their -fruit. Rancor ferments quickly and fiercely among the people of -Provence. - -Gaston de Clameran was not a man to yield, even if his foes were a -hundred, instead of fifteen or twenty. - -"No one but a coward," he said, in a clear, ringing voice, which the -pervading silence rendered almost startling, "no one but a -contemptible coward would be infamous enough to calumniate a young -girl who has neither father nor brother to defend her honor." - -"If she has no father or brother," sneered Lazet, "she has her lovers, -and that suffices." - -The insulting words, "her lovers," enraged Gaston beyond control; he -slapped Lazet violently in the face. - -Everyone in the cafe simultaneously uttered a cry of terror. Lazet's -violence of character, his herculean strength and undaunted courage, -were well known. He sprang across the table between them, and seized -Gaston by the throat. Then arose a scene of excitement and confusion. -Clameran's friend, attempting to assist him, was knocked down with -billiard-cues, and kicked under a table. - -Equally strong and agile, Gaston and Lazet struggled for some minutes -without either gaining an advantage. - -Lazet, as loyal as he was courageous, would not accept assistance from -his friends. He continually called out: - -"Keep away; let me fight it out alone!" - -But the others were too excited to remain inactive spectators of the -scene. - -"A quilt!" cried one of them, "a quilt to make the marquis jump!" - -Five or six young men now rushed upon Gaston, and separated him from -Lazet. Some tried to throw him down, others to trip him up. - -He defended himself with the energy of despair, exhibiting in his -furious struggles a strength of which he himself had not been -conscious. He struck right and left as he showered fierce epithets -upon his adversaries for being twelve against one. - -He was endeavoring to get around the billiard-table so as to be near -the door, and had almost succeeded, when an exultant cry arose: - -"Here is the quilt! the quilt!" they cried. - -"Put him in the quilt, the pretty fairy's lover!" - -Gaston heard these cries. He saw himself overcome, and suffering an -ignoble outrage at the hands of these enraged men. - -By a dexterous movement he extricated himself from the grasp of the -three who were holding him, and felled a fourth to the ground. - -His arms were free; but all his enemies returned to the charge. - -Then he seemed to lose his head, and, seizing a knife which lay on the -table where the travelling agents had been dining, he plunged it into -the breast of the first man who rushed upon him. - -This unfortunate man was Jules Lazet. He dropped to the ground. - -There was a second of silent stupor. - -Then four or five of the young men rushed forward to raise Lazet. The -landlady ran about wringing her hands, and screaming with fright. Some -of the assailants rushed into the street shouting, "Murder! Murder!" - -The others once more turned upon Gaston with cries of "Vengeance! kill -him!" - -He saw that he was lost. His enemies had seized the first objects they -could lay their hands upon, and he received several wounds. He jumped -upon the billiard-table, and, making a rapid spring, dashed through -the large glass window of the cafe. He was fearfully cut by the broken -glass and splinters, but he was free. - -Gaston had escaped, but he was not yet saved. Astonished and -disconcerted at his desperate feat, the crowd for a moment were -stupefied; but, recovering their presence of mind, they started in -pursuit of him. - -The weather was bad, the ground wet and muddy, and heavy black clouds -were rolling westward; but the night was not dark. - -Gaston ran on from tree to tree, making frequent turnings, every -moment on the point of being seized and surrounded, and asking himself -what course he should take. - -Finally he determined, if possible, to regain Clameran. - -With incredible rapidity he darted diagonally across the fair-ground, -in the direction of the levee which protected the valley of Tarascon -from inundations. - -Unfortunately, upon reaching this levee, planted with magnificent -trees which made it one of the most charming walks of Provence, Gaston -forgot that the entrance was closed by a gate with three steps, such -as are always placed before walks intended for foot-passengers, and -rushed against it with such violence that he was thrown back and badly -bruised. - -He quickly sprang up; but his pursuers were upon him. - -This time he could expect no mercy. The infuriated men at his heels -yelled that fearful cry which in the evil days of lawless bloodshed -had often echoed in that valley: "In the Rhone with him! In the Rhone -with the marquis!" - -His reason had abandoned him; he no longer knew what he did. His -forehead was cut, and the blood trickled from the wound into his eyes, -and blinded him. - -He must escape, or die in the attempt. - -He had tightly clasped the bloody knife with which he had stabbed -Lazet. He struck his nearest foe; the man fell to the ground with a -heavy groan. - -A second blow gained him a moment's respite, which gave him time to -open the gate and rush along the levee. - -Two men were kneeling over their wounded companion, and five others -resumed the pursuit. - -But Gaston flew fast, for the horror of his situation tripled his -energy; excitement deadened the pain of his wounds; with elbows held -tight to his sides, and holding his breath, he went along at such a -speed that he soon distanced his pursuers; the noise of their feet -became gradually more indistinct, and finally ceased. - -Gaston ran on for a mile, across fields and over hedges; fences and -ditches were leaped without effort and when he knew he was safe from -capture he sank down at the foot of a tree to rest. - -This terrible scene had taken place with inconceivable rapidity. Only -forty minutes had elapsed since Gaston and his friend entered the -cafe. - -But during this short time how much had happened! These forty minutes -had given more cause for sorrow and remorse than the whole of his -previous life put together. - -Entering this tavern with head erect and a happy heart, enjoying -present existence, and looking forward to a yet better future, he left -it ruined; for he was a murderer! Henceforth he would be under a ban-- -an outcast! - -He had killed a man, and still convulsively held the murderous -instrument; he cast it from him with horror. - -He tried to account for the dreadful circumstances which had just -taken place; as if it were of any importance to a man lying at the -bottom of an abyss to know which stone had slipped, and precipitated -him from the summit. - -Still, if he alone had been ruined! But Valentine was dragged down -with him: she was disgraced yet more than himself; her reputation was -gone. And it was his want of self-command which had cast to the winds -this honor, confided to his keeping, and which he held far dearer than -his own. - -But he could not remain here bewailing his misfortune. The police must -soon be on his track. They would certainly go to the chateau of -Clameran to seek him; and before leaving home, perhaps forever, he -wished to say good-by to his father, and once more press Valentine to -his heart. - -He started to walk, but with great pain, for the reaction had come, -and his nerves and muscles, so violently strained, had now begun to -relax; the intense heat caused by his struggling and fast running was -replaced by a cold perspiration, aching limbs, and chattering teeth. -His hip and shoulder pained him almost beyond endurance. The cut on -his forehead had stopped bleeding, but the coagulated blood around his -eyes blinded him. - -After a painful walk he reached his door at ten o'clock. - -The old valet who admitted him started back terrified. - -"Good heavens, monsieur! what is the matter?" - -"Silence!" said Gaston in the brief, compressed tone always inspired -by imminent danger, "silence! where is my father?" - -"M. the marquis is in his room with M. Louis. He has had a sudden -attack of the gout, and cannot put his foot to the ground; but you, -monsieur----" - -Gaston did not stop to listen further. He hurried to his father's -room. - -The old marquis, who was playing backgammon with Louis, dropped his -dice-box with a cry of horror, when he looked up and saw his eldest -son standing before him covered with blood. - -"What is the matter? what have you been doing, Gaston?" - -"I have come to embrace you for the last time, father, and to ask for -assistance to escape abroad." - -"Do you wish to fly the country?" - -"I must fly, father, and instantly; I am pursued, the police may be -here at any moment. I have killed two men." - -The marquis was so shocked that he forgot the gout, and attempted to -rise; a violent twinge made him drop back in his chair. - -"Where? When?" he gasped. - -"At Tarascon, in a cafe, an hour ago; fifteen men attacked me, and I -seized a knife to defend myself." - -"The old tricks of '93," said the marquis. "Did they insult you, -Gaston? What was the cause of the attack?" - -"They insulted in my presence the name of a noble young girl." - -"And you punished the rascals? Jarnibleu! You did well. Who ever heard -of a gentleman allowing insolent puppies to speak disrespectfully of a -lady of quality in his presence? But who was the lady you defended?" - -"Mlle. Valentine de la Verberie." - -"What!" cried the marquis, "what! the daughter of that old witch! -Those accursed de la Verberies have always brought misfortune upon -us." - -He certainly abominated the countess; but his respect for her noble -blood was greater than his resentment toward her individually, and he -added: - -"Nevertheless, Gaston, you did your duty." - -Meanwhile, the curiosity of St. Jean, the marquis's old valet, made -him venture to open the door, and ask: - -"Did M. the marquis ring?" - -"No, you rascal," answered M. de Clameran: "you know very well I did -not. But, now you are here, be useful. Quickly bring some clothes for -M. Gaston, some fresh linen, and some warm water: hasten and dress his -wounds." - -These orders were promptly executed, and Gaston found he was not so -badly hurt as he had thought. With the exception of a deep stab in his -left shoulder, his wounds were not serious. - -After receiving all the attentions which his condition required, -Gaston felt like a new man, ready to brave any peril. His eyes -sparkled with renewed energy and excitement. - -The marquis made a sign to the servants to leave the room. - -"Do you still think you ought to leave France?" he asked Gaston. - -"Yes, father." - -"My brother ought not to hesitate," interposed Louis: "he will be -arrested here, thrown into prison, vilified in court, and--who knows?" - -"We all know well enough that he will be convicted," grumbled the old -marquis. "These are the benefits of the immortal revolution, as it is -called. Ah, in my day we three would have taken our swords, jumped on -our horses, and, dashing into Tarascon, would soon have--. But those -good old days are passed. To-day we have to run away." - -"There is no time to lose," observed Louis. - -"True," said the marquis, "but to fly, to go abroad, one must have -money; and I have none by me to give him." - -"Father!" - -"No, I have none. Ah, what a prodigal old fool I have been! If I only -had a hundred louis!" - -Then he told Louis to open the secretary, and hand him the money-box. - -The box contained only nine hundred and twenty francs in gold. - -"Nine hundred and twenty francs," cried the marquis: "it will never do -for the eldest son of our house to fly the country with this paltry -sum." - -He sat lost in reflection. Suddenly his brow cleared, and he told -Louis to open a secret drawer in the secretary, and bring him a small -casket. - -Then the marquis took from his neck a black ribbon, to which was -suspended the key of the casket. - -His sons observed with what deep emotion he unlocked it, and slowly -took out a necklace, a large cross, several rings, and other pieces of -jewelry. - -His countenance assumed a solemn expression. - -"Gaston, my dear son," he said, "at a time like this your life may -depend upon bought assistance; money is power." - -"I am young, father, and have courage." - -"Listen to me. The jewels belonged to the marquise, your sainted -mother, a noble, holy woman, who is now in heaven watching over us. -These jewels have never left me. During my days of misery and want, -when I was compelled to earn a livelihood by teaching music in London, -I piously treasured them. I never thought of selling them; and to -mortgage them, in the hour of direst need, would have seemed to be a -sacrilege. But now you must take them, my son, and sell them for -twenty thousand livres." - -"No, father no; I cannot take them!" - -"You must, Gaston. If your mother were on earth, she would tell you to -take them, as I do now. I command you to take and use them. The -salvation, the honor, of the heir of the house of Clameran, must not -be imperilled for want of a little gold." - -With tearful eyes, Gaston sank on his knees, and, carrying his -father's hand to his lips, said: - -"Thanks, father, thanks! In my heedless, ungrateful presumption I have -hitherto misjudged you. I did not know your noble character. Forgive -me. I accept; yes, I accept these jewels worn by my dear mother; but I -take them as a sacred deposit, confided to my honor, and for which I -will some day account to you." - -In their emotion, the marquis and Gaston forgot the threatened danger. -But Louis was not touched by the affecting scene. - -"Time presses," he said: "you had better hasten." - -"He is right," cried the marquis: "go, Gaston, go, my son; and God -protect the heir of the Clamerans!" - -Gaston slowly got up and said, with an embarrassed air: - -"Before leaving you, my father, I must fulfil a sacred duty. I have -not told you everything. I love Valentine, the young girl whose honor -I defended this evening." - -"Oh!" cried the marquis, thunderstruck, "oh, oh!" - -"And I entreat you, father, to ask Mme. de la Verberie for the hand of -her daughter. Valentine will gladly join me abroad, and share my -exile." - -Gaston stopped, frightened at the effect of his words. The old marquis -had become crimson, or rather purple, as if struck by apoplexy. - -"Preposterous!" he gasped. "Impossible! Perfect folly!" - -"I love her, father, and have promised her never to marry another." - -"Then always remain a bachelor." - -"I shall marry her!" cried Gaston, excitedly. "I shall marry her -because I have sworn I would, and I will not be so base as to desert -her." - -"Nonsense!" - -"I tell you, Mlle. de la Verberie must and shall be my wife. It is too -late for me to draw back. Even if I no longer loved her, I would still -marry her, because she has given herself to me; because, can't you -understand--what was said at the cafe to-night was true: I have but -one way of repairing the wrong I have done Valentine--by marrying -her." - -Gaston's confession, forced from him by circumstances, produced a very -different impression from that which he had expected. The enraged -marquis instantly became cool, and his mind seemed relieved of an -immense weight. A wicked joy sparkled in his eyes, as he replied: - -"Ah, ha! she yielded to your entreaties, did she? Jarnibleu! I am -delighted. I congratulate you, Gaston: they say she is a pretty little -fool." - -"Monsieur," interrupted Gaston, indignantly; "I have told you that I -love her, and have promised to marry her. You seem to forget." - -"Ta, ta ta!" cried the marquis, "your scruples are absurd. You know -full well that her great-grandfather led our great-grandmother astray. -Now we are quits! I am delighted at the retaliation, for the old -witch's sake." - -"I swear by the memory of my mother, that Valentine shall be my wife!" - -"Do you dare assume that tone toward me?" cried the exasperated -marquis. "Never, understand me clearly; never will I give my consent. -You know how dear to me is the honor of our house. Well, I would -rather see you tried for murder, and even chained to the galleys, than -married to this worthless jade!" - -This last word was too much for Gaston. - -"Then your wish shall be gratified, monsieur. I will remain here, and -be arrested. I care not what becomes of me! What is life to me without -the hope of Valentine? Take back these jewels: they are useless now." - -A terrible scene would have taken place between the father and son, -had they not been interrupted by a domestic who rushed into the room, -and excitedly cried: - -"The gendarmes! here are the gendarmes!" - -At this news the old marquis started up, and seemed to forget his -gout, which had yielded to more violent emotions. - -"Gendarmes!" he cried, "in my house at Clameran! They shall pay dear -for their insolence! You will help me, will you not, my men?" - -"Yes, yes," answered the servants. "Down with the gendarmes! down with -them!" - -Fortunately Louis, during all this excitement, preserved his presence -of mind. - -"To resist would be folly," he said. "Even if we repulsed the -gendarmes to-night, they would return to-morrow with reinforcements." - -"Louis is right," said the marquis, bitterly. "Might is right, as they -said in '93. The gendarmes are all powerful. Do they not even have the -impertinence to come up to me while I am hunting, and ask to see my -shooting-license?--I, a Clameran, show a license!" - -"Where are they?" asked Louis of the servants. - -"At the outer gate," answered La Verdure, one of the grooms. "Does not -monsieur hear the noise they are making with their sabres?" - -"Then Gaston must escape over the garden wall." - -"It is guarded, monsieur," said La Verdure, "and the little gate in -the park besides. There seems to be a regiment of them. They are even -stationed along the park walls." - -This was only too true. The rumor of Lazet's death had spread like -wildfire throughout the town of Tarascon, and everybody was in a state -of excitement. Not only mounted gendarmes, but a platoon of hussars -from the garrison, had been sent in pursuit of the murderer. - -At least twenty young men of Tarascon were volunteer guides to the -armed force. - -"Then," said the marquis, "we are surrounded?" - -"Not a single chance for escape," groaned St. Jean. - -"We shall see about that, Jarnibleu!" cried the marquis. "Ah, we are -not the strongest, but we can be the most adroit. Attention! Louis, my -son, you and La Verdure go down to the stable, and mount the fastest -horses; then as quietly as possible station yourselves, you, Louis, at -the park gate, and you, La Verdure, at the outer gate. Upon the signal -I shall give you by firing a pistol, let every door be instantly -opened, while Louis and Verdure dash through the gates, and make the -gendarmes pursue them." - -"I will make them fly," said La Verdure. - -"Listen. During this time, Gaston, aided by St. Jean, will scale the -park wall, and hasten along the river to the cabin of Pilorel, the -fisherman. He is an old sailor of the republic, and devoted to our -house. He will take Gaston in his boat; and, when they are once on the -Rhone, there is nothing to be feared save the wrath of God. Now go, -all of you: fly!" - -Left alone with his son, the old man slipped the jewelry into a silk -purse, and, handing them once more to Gaston, said, as he stretched -out his arms toward him: - -"Come here, my son, and let me embrace you, and bestow my blessing." - -Gaston hesitated. - -"Come," insisted the old man in broken tones, "I must embrace you for -the last time: I may never see you again. Save yourself, save your -name, Gaston, and then--you know how I love you, my son: take back the -jewels. Come." - -For an instant the father and son clung to each other, overpowered by -emotion. - -But the continued noise at the gates now reaches their ears. - -"We must part!" said M. de Clameran, "go!" And, taking from his desk a -little pair of pistols, he handed them to his son, and added, with -averted eyes, "You must not be captured alive, Gaston!" - -Gaston did not immediately descend to the park. - -He yearned to see Valentine, and give her one last kiss before leaving -France, and determined to persuade Pilorel to stop the boat as they -went by the park of La Verberie. - -He hastened to his room, placed the signal in the window so that -Valentine might know he was coming, and waited for an answering light. - -"Come, M. Gaston," entreated old St. Jean, who could not understand -the strange conduct. "For God's sake make haste! your life is at -stake!" - -At last he came running down the stairs, and had just reached the -vestibule when a pistol-shot, the signal given by the marquis, was -heard. - -The loud swinging open of the large gate, the rattling of the sabres -of the gendarmes, the furious galloping of many horses, and a chorus -of loud shouts and angry oaths, were next heard. - -Leaning against the window, his brow beaded with cold perspiration, -the Marquis de Clameran breathlessly awaited the issue of this -expedient, upon which depended the life of his eldest son. - -His measures were excellent, and deserved success. As he had ordered, -Louis and La Verdure dashed out through the gate, one to the right, -the other to the left, each one pursued by a dozen mounted men. Their -horses flew like arrows, and kept far ahead of the pursuers. - -Gaston would have been saved, but for the interference of fate; but -was it fate, or was it malice? - -Suddenly Louis's horse stumbled, and fell to the ground with his -rider. The gendarmes rode up, and at once recognized the second son of -M. de Clameran. - -"This is not the assassin!" they cried. "Let us hurry back, else he -will escape!" - -They returned just in time to see, by the uncertain light of the moon -peeping from behind a cloud, Gaston climbing the garden wall. - -"There is our man!" exclaimed the corporal. "Keep your eyes open, and -gallop after him!" - -They spurred their horses, and hastened to the spot where Gaston had -jumped from the wall. - -On a wooded piece of ground, even if it be hilly, an agile man, if he -preserves his presence of mind, can escape a number of horsemen. The -ground on this side of the park was favorable to Gaston. He found -himself in an immense madder-field; and, as is well known, as this -valuable root must remain in the ground three years, the furrows are -necessarily ploughed very deep. Horses cannot even walk over its -uneven surface; indeed, they can scarcely stand steadily upon it. - -This circumstance brought the gendarmes to a dead halt. - -Four rash hussars ventured in the field, but they and their beasts -were soon rolling between hillocks. - -Jumping from ridge to ridge, Gaston soon reached a large field, -freshly ploughed, and planted with young chestnuts. - -As his chances of escape increased, the excitement grew more intense. -The pursuers urged each other on, and called out to head him off, -every time they saw Gaston run from one clump of trees to another. - -Being familiar with the country, young De Clameran was confident of -eluding his pursuers. He knew that the next field was a thistle-field, -and was separated from the chestnut by a long, deep ditch. - -He resolved to jump into this ditch, run along the bottom, and climb -out at the farther end, while they were looking for him among the -trees. - -But he had forgotten the swelling of the river. Upon reaching the -ditch, he found it full of water. - -Discouraged but not disconcerted, he was about to jump across, when -three horsemen appeared on the opposite side. - -They were gendarmes who had ridden around the madder-field and -chestnut-trees, knowing they could easily catch him on the level -ground of the thistle-field. - -At the sight of these three men, Gaston stood perplexed. - -He should certainly be captured if he attempted to run through the -field, at the end of which he could see the cabin of Pilorel the -ferryman. - -To retrace his steps would be surrendering to the hussars. - -At a little distance on his right was a forest, but he was separated -from it by a road upon which he heard the sound of approaching horses. -He would certainly be caught there. - -Foes in front of him, foes behind him, foes on the right of him! What -was on his left? - -On his left was the surging, foaming river. - -What hope was left? The circle of which he was the centre was fast -narrowing. - -Must he, then, fall back upon suicide? Here in an open field, tracked -by police like a wild beast, must he blow his brains out? What a death -for a De Clameran! - -No! He would seize the one chance of salvation left him: a forlorn, -desperate, perilous chance, but still a chance--the river. - -Holding a pistol in either hand, he ran and leaped upon the edge of a -little promontory, projecting three yards into the Rhone. - -This cape of refuge was formed by the immense trunk of a fallen tree. - -The tree swayed and cracked fearfully under Gaston's weight, as he -stood on the extreme end, and looked around upon his pursuers; there -were fifteen of them, some on the right, some on the left, all -uttering cries of joy. - -"Do you surrender?" called out the corporal. - -Gaston did not answer; he was weighing his chances. He was above the -park of La Verberie; would he be able to swim there, granting that he -was not swept away and drowned the instant he plunged into the angry -torrent before him? - -He pictured Valentine, at this very moment, watching, waiting, and -praying for him on the other shore. - -"For the last time I command you to surrender!" cried the corporal. - -The unfortunate man did not hear; he was deafened by the waters which -were roaring and rushing around him. - -In a supreme moment like this, with his foot upon the threshold of -another world, a man sees his past life rise before him, and seldom -does he find cause for self-approval. - -Although death stared him in the face, Gaston calmly considered which -would be the best spot to plunge into, and commended his soul to God. - -"He will stand there until we go after him," said a gendarme: "so we -might as well advance." - -Gaston had finished his prayer. - -He flung his pistols in the direction of the gendarmes: he was ready. - -He made the sign of the cross, then, with outstretched arms, dashed -head foremost into the Rhone. - -The violence of his spring detached the few remaining roots of the old -tree; it oscillated a moment, whirled over, and then drifted away. - -The spectators uttered a cry of horror and pity; anger seemed to have -deserted them in their turn. - -"That is an end of him," muttered one of the gendarmes. "It is useless -for one to fight against the Rhone; his body will be picked up at -Arles to-morrow." - -The hussars seemed really remorseful at the tragic fate of the brave, -handsome young man, whom a moment before they had pursued with so much -bitter zeal. They admired his spirited resistance, his courage, and -especially his resignation, his resolution to die. - -True French soldiers, their sympathies were now all upon the side of -the vanquished, and every man of them would have done all in his power -to assist in saving the drowning man, and aiding his escape. - -"An ugly piece of work!" grumbled the old quartermaster who had -command of the hussars. - -"Bast!" exclaimed the philosophic corporal, "the Rhone is no worse -than the court of assizes: the result would be the same. Right about, -men; march! The thing that troubles me is the idea of that poor old -man waiting to hear his son's fate. I would not be the one to tell him -what has happened. March!" - - - -XIII - -Valentine knew, that fatal evening, that Gaston would have to walk to -Tarascon, to cross the bridge over the Rhone which connected Tarascon -with Beaucaire, and did not expect to see him until eleven o'clock, -the hour which they had fixed upon the previous evening. - -But, happening to look up at the windows of Clameran, she saw lights -hurrying to and fro in an unusual manner, even in rooms that she knew -to be unoccupied. - -A presentiment of impending misfortune chilled her blood, and stopped -the beatings of her heart. - -A secret and imperious voice within told her that something -extraordinary was going on at the chateau of Clameran. - -What was it? She could not imagine; but she knew, she felt, that some -dreadful misfortune had happened. - -With her eyes fastened upon the dark mass of stone looming in the -distance, she watched the going and coming of the lights, as if their -movements would give her a clew to what was taking place within those -walls. - -She raised her window, and tried to listen, fancying she could hear an -unusual sound, even at such a distance. Alas! she heard nothing but -the rushing roar of the angry river. - -Her anxiety grew more insufferable every moment; and she felt as if -she would faint were this torturing suspense to last much longer, when -the well-known, beloved signal appeared suddenly in Gaston's window, -and told her that her lover was about to swim across the Rhone. - -She could scarcely believe her eyes; she must be under the influence -of a dream; her amazement prevented her answering the signal, until it -had been repeated three times. - -Then, more dead than alive, with trembling limbs she hastened along -the park to the river-bank. - -Never had she seen the Rhone so furious. Since Gaston was risking his -life in order to see her, she could no longer doubt that something -fearful had occurred at Clameran. - -She fell on her knees, and with clasped hands, and her wild eyes fixed -upon the dark waters, besought the pitiless waves to yield up her dear -Gaston. - -Every dark object which she could distinguish floating in the middle -of the torrent assumed the shape of a human form. - -At one time, she thought she heard, above the roaring of the water, -the terrible, agonized cry of a drowning man. - -She watched and prayed, but her lover came not. - -Still she waited. - -While the gendarmes and hussars slowly and silently returned to the -chateau of Clameran, Gaston experienced one of those miracles which -would seem incredible were they not confirmed by the most convincing -proof. - -When he first plunged into the river, he rolled over five or six -times, and was then drawn toward the bottom. In a swollen river the -current is unequal, being much stronger in some places than in others; -hence the great danger. - -Gaston knew it, and guarded against it. Instead of wasting his -strength in vain struggles, he held his breath, and kept still. About -twenty-five yards from the spot where he had plunged in, he made a -violent spring which brought him to the surface. - -Rapidly drifting by him was the old tree. - -For an instant, he was entangled in the mass of weeds and debris which -clung to its roots, and followed in its wake; an eddy set him free. -The tree and its clinging weeds swept on. It was the last familiar -friend, gone. - -Gaston dared not attempt to reach the opposite shore. He would have to -land where the waves dashed him. - -With great presence of mind he put forth all his strength and -dexterity to slowly take an oblique course, knowing well that there -was no hope for him if the current took him crosswise. - -This fearful current is as capricious as a woman, which accounts for -the strange effects of inundations; sometimes it rushes to the right, -sometimes to the left, sparing one shore and ravaging the other. - -Gaston was familiar with every turn of the river; he knew that just -below Clameran was an abrupt turning, and relied upon the eddy formed -thereby, to sweep him in the direction of La Verberie. - -His hopes were not deceived. An oblique current suddenly swept him -toward the right shore, and, if he had not been on his guard, would -have sunk him. - -But the eddy did not reach as far as Gaston supposed, and he was still -some distance from the shore, when, with the rapidity of lightning, he -was swept by the park of La Verberie. - -As he floated by, he caught a glimpse of a white shadow among the -trees; Valentine still waited for him. - -He was gradually approaching the bank, as he reached the end of La -Verberie, and attempted to land. - -Feeling a foothold, he stood up twice, and each time was thrown down -by the violence of the waves. He escaped being swept away by seizing -some willow branches, and, clinging to them, raised himself, and -climbed up the steep bank. - -He was safe at last. - -Without taking time to breathe, he darted in the direction of the -park. - -He came just in time. Overcome by the intensity of her emotions, -Valentine had fainted, and lay apparently lifeless on the damp river- -bank. - -Gaston's entreaties and kisses aroused her from her stupor. - -"Gaston!" she cried, in a tone that revealed all the love she felt for -him. "Is it indeed you? Then God heard my prayers, and had pity on -us." - -"No, Valentine," he murmured. "God has had no pity." - -The sad tones of Gaston's voice convinced her that her presentiment of -evil was true. - -"What new misfortune strikes us now?" she cried. "Why have you thus -risked your life--a life far dearer to me than my own? What has -happened?" - -"This is what has happened, Valentine: our love-affair is the jest of -the country around; our secret is a secret no longer." - -She shrank back, and, burying her face in her hands, moaned piteously. - -"This," said Gaston, forgetting everything but his present misery, -"this is the result of the blind enmity of our families. Our noble and -pure love, which ought to be a glory in the eyes of God and man, has -to be concealed, and, when discovered, becomes a reproach as though it -were some evil deed." - -"Then all is known--all is discovered!" murmured Valentine. "Oh, -Gaston, Gaston!" - -While struggling for his life against furious men and angry elements, -Gaston had preserved his self-possession; but the heart-broken tone of -his beloved Valentine overcame him. He swung his arms above his head, -and exclaimed: - -"Yes, they know it; and oh, why could I not crush the villains for -daring to utter your adored name? Ah, why did I only kill two of the -scoundrels!" - -"Have you killed someone, Gaston?" - -Valentine's tone of horror gave Gaston a ray of reason. - -"Yes," he replied with bitterness, "I have killed two men. It was for -that that I have crossed the Rhone. I could not have my father's name -disgraced by being tried and convicted for murder. I have been tracked -like a wild beast by mounted police. I have escaped them, and now I am -flying my country." - -Valentine struggled to preserve her composure under this last -unexpected blow. - -"Where do you hope to find an asylum?" she asked. - -"I know not. Where I am to go, what will become of me, God only knows! -I only know that I am going to some strange land, to assume a false -name and a disguise. I shall seek some lawless country which offers a -refuge to murderers." - -Gaston waited for an answer to this speech. None came, and he resumed -with vehemence: - -"And before disappearing, Valentine, I wished to see you, because now, -when I am abandoned by everyone else, I have relied upon you, and had -faith in your love. A tie unites us, my darling, stronger and more -indissoluble than all earthly ties--the tie of love. I love you more -than life itself, my Valentine; before God you are my wife; I am yours -and you are mine, for ever and ever! Would you let me fly alone, -Valentine? To the pain and toil of exile, to the sharp regrets of a -ruined life, would you, could you, add the torture of separation?" - -"Gaston, I implore you--" - -"Ah, I knew it," he interrupted, mistaking the sense of her -exclamation; "I knew you would not let me go off alone. I knew your -sympathetic heart would long to share the burden of my miseries. This -moment effaces the wretched suffering I have endured. Let us go! -Having our happiness to defend, having you to protect, I fear nothing; -I can brave all, conquer all. Come, my Valentine, we will escape, or -die together! This is the long-dreamed-of happiness! The glorious -future of love and liberty open before us!" - -He had worked himself into a state of delirious excitement. He seized -Valentine around the waist, and tried to draw her toward the gate. - -As Gaston's exaltation increased, Valentine became composed and almost -stolid in her forced calmness. - -Gently, but with a quiet firmness, she withdrew herself from his -embrace, and said sadly, but resolutely: - -"What you wish is impossible, Gaston!" - -This cold, inexplicable resistance confounded her lover. - -"Impossible? Why, Valentine----" - -"You know me well enough, Gaston, to be convinced that sharing the -greatest hardships with you would to me be the height of happiness. -But above the tones of your voice to which I fain would yield, above -the voice of my own heart which urges me to follow the one being upon -whom all its affections are centred, there is another voice--a -powerful, imperious voice--which bids me to stay: the voice of duty." - -"What! Would you think of remaining here after the horrible affair of -to-night, after the scandal that will be spread to-morrow?" - -"What do you mean? That I am lost, dishonored? Am I any more so to-day -than I was yesterday? Do you think that the jeers and scoffs of the -world could make me suffer more than do the pangs of my guilty -conscience? I have long since passed judgment upon myself, Gaston; -and, although the sound of your voice and the touch of your hand would -make me forget all save the bliss of your love, no sooner were you -away than I would weep tears of shame and remorse." - -Gaston listened immovable, stupefied. He seemed to see a new Valentine -standing before him, an entirely different woman from the one whose -tender soul he thought he knew so well. - -"Your mother, what will she say?" he asked. - -"It is my duty to her that keeps me here. Do you wish me to prove an -unnatural daughter, and desert a poor, lonely, friendless old woman, -who has nothing but me to cling to? Could I abandon her to follow a -lover?" - -"But our enemies will inform her of everything, Valentine, and think -how she will make you suffer!" - -"No matter. The dictates of conscience must be obeyed. Ah, why can I -not, at the price of my life, spare her the agony of hearing that her -only daughter, her Valentine, has disgraced her name? She may be hard, -cruel, pitiless toward me; but have I not deserved it? Oh, my only -friend, we have been revelling in a dream too beautiful to last! I -have long dreaded this awakening. Like two weak, credulous fools we -imagined that happiness could exist beyond the pale of duty. Sooner or -later stolen joys must be dearly paid for. After the sweet comes the -bitter; we must bow our heads, and drink the cup to the dregs." - -This cold reasoning, this sad resignation, was more than the fiery -nature of Gaston could bear. - -"You shall not talk thus!" he cried. "Can you not feel that the bare -idea of your suffering humiliation drives me mad?" - -"Alas! I see nothing but disgrace, the most fearful disgrace, staring -me in the face." - -"What do you mean, Valentine?" - -"I have not told you, Gaston, I am----" - -Here she stopped, hesitated, and then added: - -"Nothing! I am a fool." - -Had Gaston been less excited, he would have suspected some new -misfortune beneath this reticence of Valentine; but his mind was too -full of one idea--that of possessing her. - -"All hope is not lost," he continued. "My father is kind-hearted, and -was touched by my love and despair. I am sure that my letters, added -to the intercession of my brother Louis, will induce him to ask Mme. -de la Verberie for your hand." - -This proposition seemed to frighten Valentine. - -"Heaven forbid that the marquis should take this rash step!" - -"Why, Valentine?" - -"Because my mother would reject his offer; because, I must confess it -now, she has sworn I shall marry none but a rich man; and your father -is not rich, Gaston, so you will have very little." - -"Good heavens!" cried Gaston, with disgust, "is it to such an -unnatural mother that you sacrifice me?" - -"She is my mother; that is sufficient. I have not the right to judge -her. My duty is to remain with her, and remain I shall." - -Valentine's manner showed such determined resolution, that Gaston saw -that further prayers would be in vain. - -"Alas!" he cried, as he wrung his hands with despair, "you do not love -me; you have never loved me!" - -"Gaston, Gaston! you do not think what you say! Have you no mercy?" - -"If you loved me," he cried, "you could never, at this moment of -separation, have the cruel courage to coldly reason and calculate. Ah, -far different is my love for you. Without you the world is void; to -lose you is to die. What have I to live for? Let the Rhone take back -this worthless life, so miraculously saved; it is now a burden to me!" - -And he rushed toward the river, determined to bury his sorrow beneath -its waves; Valentine seized his arm, and held him back. - -"Is this the way to show your love for me?" she asked. - -Gaston was absolutely discouraged. - -"What is the use of living?" he said, dejectedly. "What is left to me -now?" - -"God is left to us, Gaston; and in his hands lies our future." - -As a shipwrecked man seizes a rotten plank in his desperation, so -Gaston eagerly caught at the word "/future/," as a beacon in the -gloomy darkness surrounding him. - -"Your commands shall be obeyed," he cried with enthusiasm. "Away with -weakness! Yes, I will live, and struggle, and triumph. Mme. de la -Verberie wants gold; well, she shall have it; in three years I will be -rich, or I shall be dead." - -With clasped hands Valentine thanked Heaven for this sudden -determination, which was more than she had dared hope for. - -"But," said Gaston, "before going away I wish to confide to you a -sacred deposit." - -He drew from his pocket the purse of jewels, and, handing them to -Valentine, added: - -"These jewels belonged to my poor mother; you, my angel, are alone -worthy of wearing them. I thought of you when I accepted them from my -father. I felt that you, as my affianced wife, were the proper person -to have them." - -Valentine refused to accept them. - -"Take them, my darling, as a pledge of my return. If I do not come -back within three years, you may know that I am dead, and then you -must keep them as a souvenir of him who so much loved you." - -She burst into tears, and took the purse. - -"And now," said Gaston, "I have a last request to make. Everybody -believes me dead, but I cannot let my poor old father labor under this -impression. Swear to me that you will go yourself to-morrow morning, -and tell him that I am still alive." - -"I will tell him, myself," she said. - -Gaston felt that he must now tear himself away before his courage -failed him; each moment he was more loath to leave the only being who -bound him to this world; he enveloped Valentine in a last fond -embrace, and started up. - -"What is your plan of escape?" she asked. - -"I shall go to Marseilles, and hide in a friend's house until I can -procure a passage to America." - -"You must have assistance; I will secure you a guide in whom I have -unbounded confidence; old Menoul, the ferryman, who lives near us. He -owns the boat which he plies on the Rhone." - -The lovers passed through the little park gate, of which Gaston had -the key, and soon reached the boatman's cabin. - -He was asleep in an easy-chair by the fire. When Valentine stood -before him with Gaston, the old man jumped up, and kept rubbing his -eyes, thinking it must be a dream. - -"Pere Menoul," said Valentine, "M. Gaston is compelled to fly the -country; he wants to be rowed out to sea, so that he can secretly -embark. Can you take him in your boat as far as the mouth of the -Rhone?" - -"It is impossible," said the old man, shaking his head; "I would not -dare venture on the river in its present state." - -"But, Pere Menoul, it would be of immense service to me; would you not -venture for my sake?" - -"For your sake? certainly I would, Mlle. Valentine: I will do anything -to gratify you. I am ready to start." - -He looked at Gaston, and, seeing his clothes wet and covered with mud, -said to him: - -"Allow me to offer you my dead son's clothes, monsieur; they will -serve as a disguise: come this way." - -In a few minutes Pere Menoul returned with Gaston, whom no one would -have recognized in his sailor dress. - -Valentine went with them to the place where the boat was moored. While -the old man was unfastening it, the disconsolate lovers tearfully -embraced each other for the last time. - -"In three years, my own Valentine; promise to wait three years for me! -If alive, I will then see you." - -"Adieu, mademoiselle," interrupted the boatman; "and you, monsieur, -hold fast, and keep steady." - -Then with a vigorous stroke of the boat-hook he sent the bark into the -middle of the stream. - -Three days later, thanks to the assistance of Pere Menoul, Gaston was -concealed on the three-masted American vessel, Tom Jones, which was to -start the next day for Valparaiso. - - - -XIV - -Cold and white as a marble statue, Valentine stood on the bank of the -river, watching the frail bark which was carrying her lover away. It -flew along the Rhone like a bird in a tempest, and after a few seconds -appeared like a black speck in the midst of the heavy fog which -floated over the water, then was lost to view. - -Now that Gaston was gone, Valentine had no motive for concealing her -despair; she wrung her hands and sobbed as if her heart would break. -All her forced calmness, her bravery and hopefulness, were gone. She -felt crushed and lost, as if the sharp pain in her heart was the -forerunner of the torture in store for her; as if that swiftly gliding -bark had carried off the better part of herself. - -While Gaston treasured in the bottom of his heart a ray of hope, she -felt there was nothing to look forward to but shame and sorrow. - -The horrible facts which stared her in the face convinced her that -happiness in this life was over; the future was worse than blank. She -wept and shuddered at the prospect. - -She slowly retraced her footsteps through the friendly little gate -which had so often admitted poor Gaston; and, as she closed it behind -her, she seemed to be placing an impassable barrier between herself -and happiness. - -Before entering, Valentine walked around the chateau, and looked up at -the windows of her mother's chamber. - -They were brilliantly lighted, as usual at this hour, for Mme. de la -Verberie passed half the night in reading, and slept till late in the -day. - -Enjoying the comforts of life, which are little costly in the country, -the selfish countess disturbed herself very little about her daughter. - -Fearing no danger in their isolation, she left her at perfect liberty; -and day and night Valentine might go and come, take long walks, and -sit under trees for hours at a time, without restriction. - -But on this night Valentine feared being seen. She would be called -upon to explain the torn, muddy condition of her dress, and what -answer could she give? - -Fortunately she could reach her room without meeting anyone. - -She needed solitude in order to collect her thoughts, and to pray for -strength to bear the heavy burden of her sorrows, and to withstand the -angry storm about to burst over her head. - -Seated before her little work-table, she emptied the purse of jewels, -and mechanically examined them. - -It would be a sweet, sad comfort to wear the simplest of the rings, -she thought, as she slipped the sparkling gem on her finger; but her -mother would ask her where it came from. What answer could she give? -Alas, none. - -She kissed the purse, in memory of Gaston, and then concealed the -sacred deposit in her bureau. - -When she thought of going to Clameran, to inform the old marquis of -the miraculous preservation of his son's life, her heart sank. - -Blinded by his passion, Gaston did not think, when he requested this -service, of the obstacles and dangers to be braved in its performance. - -But Valentine saw them only too clearly; yet it did not occur to her -for an instant to break her promise by sending another, or by delaying -to go herself. - -At sunrise she dressed herself. - -When the bell was ringing for early mass, she thought it a good time -to start on her errand. - -The servants were all up, and one of them named Mihonne, who always -waited on Valentine, was scrubbing the vestibule. - -"If mother asks for me," said Valentine to the girl, "tell her I have -gone to early mass." - -She often went to church at this hour, so there was nothing to be -feared thus far; Mihonne looked at her sadly, but said nothing. - -Valentine knew that she would have difficulty in returning to -breakfast. She would have to walk a league before reaching the bridge, -and it was another league thence to Clameran; in all she must walk -four leagues. - -She set forth at a rapid pace. The consciousness of performing an -extraordinary action, the feverish anxiety of peril incurred, -increased her haste. She forgot that she had worn herself out weeping -all night; that this fictitious strength could not last. - -In spite of her efforts, it was after eight o'clock when she reached -the long avenue leading to the main entrance of the chateau of -Clameran. - -She had only proceeded a few steps, when she saw old St. Jean coming -down the path. - -She stopped and waited for him; he hastened his steps at sight of her, -as if having something to tell her. - -He was very much excited, and his eyes were swollen with weeping. - -To Valentine's surprise, he did not take off his hat to bow, and when -he came up to her, he said, rudely: - -"Are you going up to the chateau, mademoiselle?" - -"Yes." - -"If you are going after M. Gaston," said the servant, with an insolent -sneer, "you are taking useless trouble. M. the count is dead, -mademoiselle; he sacrificed himself for the sake of a worthless -woman." - -Valentine turned white at this insult, but took no notice of it. St. -Jean, who expected to see her overcome by the dreadful news, was -bewildered at her composure. - -"I am going to the chateau," she said, quietly, "to speak to the -marquis." - -St. Jean stifled a sob, and said: - -"Then it is not worth while to go any farther." - -"Why?" - -"Because the Marquis of Clameran died at five o'clock this morning." - -Valentine leaned against a tree to prevent herself from falling. - -"Dead!" she gasped. - -"Yes," said St. Jean, fiercely; "yes, dead!" - -A faithful servant of the old regime, St. Jean shared all the -passions, weaknesses, friendships, and enmities of his master. He had -a horror of the La Verberies. And now he saw in Valentine the woman -who had caused the death of the marquis whom he had served for forty -years, and of Gaston whom he worshipped. - -"I will tell you how he died," said the bitter old man. "Yesterday -evening, when those hounds came and told the marquis that his eldest -son was dead, he who was as hardy as an oak, and could face any -danger, instantly gave way, and dropped as if struck by lightning. I -was there. He wildly beat the air with his hands, and fell without -opening his lips; not one word did he utter. We put him to bed, and M. -Louis galloped into Tarascon for a doctor. But the blow had struck too -deeply. When Dr. Raget arrived he said there was no hope. - -"At daybreak, the marquis recovered consciousness enough to ask for M. -Louis, with whom he remained alone for some minutes. The last words he -uttered were, 'Father and son the same day; there will be rejoicing at -La Verberie.'" - -Valentine might have soothed the sorrow of the faithful servant, by -telling him Gaston still lived; but she feared it would be indiscreet, -and, unfortunately, said nothing. - -"Can I see M. Louis?" she asked after a long silence. - -This question seemed to arouse all the anger slumbering in the breast -of poor St. Jean. - -"You! You would dare take such a step, Mlle. de la Verberie? What! -would you presume to appear before him after what has happened? I will -never allow it! And you had best, moreover, take my advice, and return -home at once. I will not answer for the tongues of the servants here, -when they see you." - -And, without waiting for an answer, he hurried away. - -What could Valentine do? Humiliated and miserable, she could only -wearily drag her aching limbs back the way she had so rapidly come -early that morning. On the road, she met many people coming from the -town, where they had heard of the events of the previous night; and -the poor girl was obliged to keep her eyes fastened to the ground in -order to escape the insulting looks and mocking salutations with which -the gossips passed her. - -When Valentine reached La Verberie, she found Mihonne waiting for her. - -"Ah, mademoiselle," she said, "make haste, and go in the house. Madame -had a visitor this morning, and ever since she left has been crying -out for you. Hurry; and take care what you say to her, for she is in a -violent passion." - -Much has been said in favor of the patriarchal manners of our -ancestors. - -Their manners may have been patriarchal years and years ago; but our -mothers and wives nowadays certainly have not such ready hands and -quick tongues, and are sometimes, at least, elegant in manner, and -choice in their language. - -Mme. de La Verberie had preserved the manners of the good old times, -when grand ladies swore like troopers, and impressed their remarks by -slaps in the face. - -When Valentine appeared, she was overwhelmed with coarse epithets and -violent abuse. - -The countess had been informed of everything, with many gross -additions added by public scandal. An old dowager, her most intimate -friend, had hurried over early in the morning, to offer her this -poisoned dish of gossip, seasoned with her own pretended condolences. - -In this sad affair, Mme. de la Verberie mourned less over her -daughter's loss of reputation, than over the ruin of her own projects ---projects of going to Paris, making a grand marriage for Valentine, -and living in luxury the rest of her days. - -A young girl so compromised would not find it easy to get a husband. -It would now be necessary to keep her two years longer in the country, -before introducing her into Parisian society. The world must have time -to forget this scandal. - -"You worthless wretch!" cried the countess with fury; "is it thus you -respect the noble traditions of our family? Heretofore it has never -been considered necessary to watch the La Verberies; they could take -care of their honor: but you must take advantage of your liberty to -cover our name with disgrace!" - -With a sinking heart, Valentine had foreseen this tirade. She felt -that it was only a just punishment for her conduct. Knowing that the -indignation of her mother was just, she meekly hung her head like a -repentant sinner at the bar of justice. - -But this submissive silence only exasperated the angry countess. - -"Why do you not answer me?" she screamed with flashing eyes and a -threatening gesture. "Speak! you----" - -"What can I say, mother?" - -"Say, miserable girl? Say that they lied when they accused a La -Verberie of disgracing her name! Speak: defend yourself!" - -Valentine mournfully shook her head, but said nothing. - -"It is true, then?" shrieked the countess, beside herself with rage; -"what they said is true?" - -"Forgive me, mother: have mercy! I am so miserable!" moaned the poor -girl. - -"Forgive! have mercy! Do you dare to tell me I have not been deceived -by this gossip to-day? Do you have the insolence to stand there and -glory in your shame? Whose blood flows in your veins? You seem to be -ignorant that some faults should be persistently denied, no matter how -glaring the evidence against them. And you are my daughter! Can you -not understand that an ignominious confession like this should never -be forced from a woman by any human power? But no, you have lovers, -and unblushingly avow it. Why not run over the town and tell -everybody? Boast of it, glory in it: it would be something new!" - -"Alas! you are pitiless, mother!" - -"Did you ever have any pity on me, my dutiful daughter? Did it ever -occur to you that your disgrace would kill me? No: I suppose you and -your lover have often laughed at my blind confidence; for I had -confidence in you: I had perfect faith in you. I believed you to be as -innocent as when you lay in your cradle. And it has come to this: -drunken men make a jest of your name in a billiard-room, then fight -about you, and kill each other. I intrusted to you the honor of our -name, and what did you do with it? You handed it over to the first- -comer!" - -This was too much for Valentine. The words, "first-comer," wounded her -pride more than all the other abuse heaped upon her. She tried to -protest against this unmerited insult. - -"Ah, I have made a mistake in supposing this to be the first one," -said the countess. "Among your many lovers, you choose the heir of our -worst enemy, the son of those detested Clamerans. Among all, you -select a coward who publicly boasted of your favors; a wretch who -tried to avenge himself for the heroism of our ancestors by ruining -you and me--an old woman and a child!" - -"No, mother, you do him wrong. He loved me, and hopes for your -consent." - -"Wants to marry you, does he? Never, never shall that come to pass! I -would rather see you lower than you are, in the gutter, laid in your -coffin, than see you the wife of that man!" - -Thus the hatred of the countess was expressed very much in the terms -which the old marquis had used to his son. - -"Besides," she added, with a ferocity of which only a bad woman is -capable, "your lover is drowned, and the old marquis is dead. God is -just; we are avenged." - -The words of St. Jean, "There will be rejoicing at La Verberie," rung -in Valentine's ears, as she saw the countess's eyes sparkle with -wicked joy. - -This was too much for the unfortunate girl. - -For half an hour she had been exerting all of her strength to bear -this cruel violence from her mother; but her physical endurance was -not equal to the task. She turned pale, and with half-closed eyes -tried to seize a table, as she felt herself falling; but her head fell -against a bracket, and with bleeding forehead she dropped at her -mother's feet. - -The cold-hearted countess felt no revival of maternal love, as she -looked at her daughter's lifeless form. Her vanity was wounded, but no -other emotion disturbed her. Hers was a heart so full of anger and -hatred that there was no room for any nobler sentiment. - -She rang the bell; and the affrighted servants, who were trembling in -the passage at the loud and angry tones of that voice, of which they -all stood in terror, came running in. - -"Carry mademoiselle to her room," she ordered: "lock her up, and bring -me the key." - -The countess intended keeping Valentine a close prisoner for a long -time. - -She well knew the mischievous, gossiping propensities of country -people, who, from mere idleness, indulge in limitless scandal. A poor -fallen girl must either leave the country, or drink to the very dregs -the chalice of premeditated humiliations, heaped up and offered her by -her neighbors. Each clown delights in casting a stone at her. - -The plans of the countess were destined to be disconcerted. - -The servants came to tell her that Valentine was restored to -consciousness, but seemed to be very ill. - -She replied that she would not listen to such absurdities, that it was -all affectation; but Mihonne insisted upon her going up and judging -for herself. She unwillingly went to her daughter's room, and saw that -her life was in danger. - -The countess betrayed no apprehension, but sent to Tarascon for Dr. -Raget, who was the oracle of the neighborhood; he was with the Marquis -of Clameran when he died. - -Dr. Raget was one of those men who leave a blessed memory, which lives -long after they have left this world. - -Intelligent, noble-hearted, and wealthy, he devoted his life to his -art; going from the mansions of the rich to the hovels of the poor, -without ever accepting remuneration for his services. - -At all hours of the night and day, his gray horse and old buggy might -be seen, with a basket of wine and soup under the seat, for his poorer -patients. - -He was a little, bald-headed man of fifty, with a quick, bright eye, -and pleasant face. - -The servant fortunately found him at home; and he was soon standing at -Valentine's bed-side, with a grave, perplexed look upon his usually -cheerful face. - -Endowed with profound perspicacity, quickened by practice, he studied -Valentine and her mother alternately; and the penetrating gaze which -he fastened on the old countess so disconcerted her that she felt her -wrinkled face turning very red. - -"This child is very ill," he abruptly said. - -Mme. de la Verberie made no reply. - -"I desire," continued the doctor, "to remain alone with her for a few -minutes." - -The countess dared not resist the authority of a man of Dr. Raget's -character, and retired to the next room, apparently calm, but in -reality disturbed by the most gloomy forebodings. - -At the end of half an hour--it seemed a century--the doctor entered -the room where she was waiting. He, who had witnessed so much -suffering and misery all his life, was agitated and nervous after -talking with Valentine. - -"Well," said the countess, "what is the matter?" - -"Summon all your courage, madame," he answered sadly, "and be prepared -to grant indulgence and pardon to your suffering child. Mlle. -Valentine will soon become a mother." - -"The worthless creature! I feared as much." - -The doctor was shocked at this dreadful expression of the countess's -eye. He laid his hand on her arm, and gave her a penetrating look, -beneath which she instantly quailed. - -The doctor's suspicions were correct. - -A dreadful idea had flashed across Mme. de la Verberie's mind--the -idea of destroying this child which would be a living proof of -Valentine's sin. - -Feeling that her evil intention was divined, the proud woman's eyes -fell beneath the doctor's obstinate gaze. - -"I do not understand you, Dr. Raget," she murmured. - -"But I understand you, madame; and I simply tell you that a crime does -not obliterate a fault." - -"Doctor!" - -"I merely say what I think, madame. If I am mistaken in my impression, -so much the better for you. At present, the condition of your daughter -is serious, but not dangerous. Excitement and distress of mind have -unstrung her nerves, and she now has a high fever; but I hope by great -care and good nursing that she will soon recover." - -The countess saw that the good doctor's suspicions were not -dissipated; so she thought she would try affectionate anxiety, and -said: - -"At least, doctor, you can assure me that the dear child's life is not -in danger?" - -"No, madame," answered Dr. Raget with cutting irony, "your maternal -tenderness need not be alarmed. All the poor child needs is rest of -mind, which you alone can give her. A few kind words from you will do -her more good than all of my prescriptions. But remember, madame, that -the least shock or nervous excitement will produce the most fatal -consequences." - -"I am aware of that," said the hypocritical countess, "and shall be -very careful. I must confess that I was unable to control my anger -upon first hearing your announcement." - -"But now that the first shock is over, madame, being a mother and a -Christian, you will do your duty. My duty is to save your daughter and -her child. I will call to-morrow." - -Mme. de la Verberie had no idea of having the doctor go off in this -way. She called him back, and, without reflecting that she was -betraying herself, cried out: - -"Do you pretend to say, monsieur, that you will prevent my taking -every means to conceal this terrible misfortune that has fallen upon -me? Do you wish our shame to be made public, to make me the laughing- -stock of the neighborhood?" - -The doctor reflected without answering; the condition of affairs was -grave. - -"No, madame," he finally said; "I cannot prevent your leaving La -Verberie: that would be overstepping my powers. But it is my duty to -hold you to account for the child. You are at liberty to go where you -please; but you must give me proof of the child's living, or at least -that no attempts have been made against its life." - -After uttering these threatening words he left the house, and it was -in good time; for the countess was choking with suppressed rage. - -"Insolent upstart!" she said, "to presume to dictate to a woman of my -rank! Ah, if I were not completely at his mercy!" - -But she was at his mercy, and she knew well enough that it would be -safest to obey. - -She stamped her foot with anger, as she thought that all her ambitious -plans were dashed to the ground. - -No more hopes of luxury, of a millionaire son-in-law, of splendid -carriages, rich dresses, and charming card-parties where she could -lose money all night without disturbing her mind. - -She would have to die as she had lived, neglected and poor; and this -future life of deprivation would be harder to bear than the past, -because she no longer had bright prospects to look forward to. It was -a cruel awakening from her golden dreams. - -And it was Valentine who brought this misery upon her. - -This reflection aroused all her inherent bitterness, and she felt -toward her daughter one of those implacable hatreds which, instead of -being quenched, are strengthened by time. - -She wished she could see Valentine lying dead before her; above all -would she like the accursed infant to come to grief. - -But the doctor's threatening look was still before her, and she dared -not attempt her wicked plans. She even forced herself to go and say a -few forgiving words to Valentine, and then left her to the care of the -faithful Mihonne. - -Poor Valentine! she prayed that death might kindly end her sufferings. -She had neither the moral nor physical courage to fight against her -fate, but hopelessly sank beneath the first blow, and made no attempt -to rally herself. - -She was, however, getting better. She felt that dull, heavy sensation -which always follows violent mental or physical suffering; she was -still able to reflect, and thought: - -"Well, it is over; my mother knows everything. I no longer have her -anger to fear, and must trust to time for her forgiveness." - -This was the secret which Valentine had refused to reveal to Gaston, -because she feared that he would refuse to leave her if he knew it; -and she wished him to escape at any price of suffering to herself. -Even now she did not regret having followed the dictates of duty, and -remained at home. - -The only thought which distressed her was Gaston's danger. Had he -succeeded in embarking? How would she find out? The doctor had allowed -her to get up; but she was not well enough to go out, and she did not -know when she should be able to walk as far as Pere Menoul's cabin. - -Happily the devoted old boatman was intelligent enough to anticipate -her wishes. - -Hearing that the young lady at the chateau was very ill, he set about -devising some means of informing her of her friend's safety. He went -to La Verberie several times on pretended errands, and finally -succeeded in seeing Valentine. One of the servants was present, so he -could not speak to her; but he made her understand by a significant -look that Gaston was out of danger. - -This knowledge contributed more toward Valentine's recovery than all -the medicines administered by the doctor, who, after visiting her -daily for six weeks, now pronounced his patient sufficiently strong to -bear the fatigues of a journey. - -The countess had waited with the greatest impatience for this -decision. In order to prevent any delay, she had already sold at a -discount half of her incoming rents, supposing that the sum thus -raised, twenty-five thousand francs, would suffice for all contingent -expenses. - -For a fortnight she had been calling on all of her neighbors to bid -them farewell, saying that her daughter had entirely recovered her -health, and that she was going to take her to England to visit a rich -old uncle, who had repeatedly written for her. - -Valentine looked forward to this journey with terror, and shuddered -when, on the evening that the doctor gave her permission to set out, -her mother came to her room, and said: - -"We will start the day after to-morrow." - -Only one day left! And Valentine had been unable to let Louis de -Clameran know that his brother was still living. - -In this extremity she was obliged to confide in Mihonne, and sent her -with a letter to Louis. - -But the faithful servant had a useless walk. - -The chateau of Clameran was deserted; all the servants had been -dismissed, and M. Louis, whom they now called the marquis, had gone -abroad. - -At last they started. Mme. de la Verberie, feeling that she could -trust Mihonne, decided to take her along; but first made her sacredly -promise eternal secrecy. - -It was in a little village near London that the countess, under the -assumed name of Mrs. Wilson, took up her abode with her daughter and -maid-servant. - -She selected England, because she had lived there a long time, and was -well acquainted with the manners and habits of the people, and spoke -their language as well as she did her own. - -She had also kept up her acquaintanceship with some of the English -nobility, and often dined and went to the theatre with her friends in -London. On these occasions she always took the humiliating precaution -of locking up Valentine until she should return. - -It was in this sad, solitary house, in the month of May, that the son -of Valentine de la Verberie was born. He was taken to the parish -priest, and christened Valentin-Raoul Wilson. The countess had -prepared everything, and engaged an honest farmer's wife to adopt the -child, bring him up as her own, and, when old enough, have him taught -a trade. For doing this the countess paid her five hundred pounds. - -Little Raoul was given over to his adopted parent a few hours after -his birth. - -The good woman thought him the child of an English lady, and there -seemed no probability that he would ever discover the secret of his -birth. - -Restored to consciousness, Valentine asked for her child. She yearned -to clasp it to her bosom; she implored to be allowed to hold her babe -in her arms for only one minute. - -But the cruel countess was pitiless. - -"Your child!" she cried, "you must be dreaming; you have no child. You -have had brain fever, but no child." - -And as Valentine persisted in saying that she knew the child was -alive, and that she must see it, the countess was forced to change her -tactics. - -"Your child is alive, and shall want for nothing," she said sharply; -"let that suffice; and be thankful that I have so well concealed your -disgrace. You must forget what has happened, as you would forget a -painful dream. The past must be ignored--wiped out forever. You know -me well enough to understand that I will be obeyed." - -The moment had come when Valentine should have asserted her maternal -rights, and resisted the countess's tyranny. - -She had the idea, but not the courage to do so. - -If, on one side, she saw the dangers of an almost culpable -resignation--for she, too, was a mother!--on the other she felt -crushed by the consciousness of her guilt. - -She sadly yielded; surrendered herself into the hands of a mother -whose conduct she refrained from questioning, to escape the painful -necessity of condemning it. - -But she secretly pined, and inwardly rebelled against her sad -disappointment; and thus her recovery was delayed for several months. - -Toward the end of July, the countess took her back to La Verberie. -This time the mischief-makers and gossips were skilfully deceived. The -countess went everywhere, and instituted secret inquiries, but heard -no suspicions of the object of her long trip to England. Everyone -believed in the visit to the rich uncle. - -Only one man, Dr. Raget, knew the truth; and, although Mme. de la -Verberie hated him from the bottom of her heart, she did him the -justice to feel sure that she had nothing to fear from his -indiscretion. - -Her first visit was paid to him. - -When she entered the room, she abruptly threw on the table the -official papers which she had procured especially for him. - -"These will prove to you, monsieur, that the child is living, and well -cared for at a cost that I can ill afford." - -"These are perfectly right, madame," he replied, after an attentive -examination of the papers, "and, if your conscience does not reproach -you, of course I have nothing to say." - -"My conscience reproaches me with nothing, monsieur." - -The old doctor shook his head, and gazing searchingly into her eyes, -said: - -"Can you say that you have not been harsh, even to cruelty?" - -She turned away her head, and, assuming her grand air, answered: - -"I have acted as a woman of my rank should act; and I am surprised to -find in you an advocate and abettor of misconduct." - -"Ah, madame," said the doctor, "it is your place to show kindness to -the poor girl; and if you feel none yourself, you have no right to -complain of it in others. What indulgence do you expect from strangers -toward your unhappy daughter, when you, her mother, are so pitiless?" - -This plain-spoken truth offended the countess, and she rose to leave. - -"Have you finished what you have to say, Dr. Raget?" she asked, -haughtily. - -"Yes, madame; I have done. My only object was to spare you eternal -remorse. Good-day." - -The good doctor was mistaken in his idea of Mme. de la Verberie's -character. She was utterly incapable of feeling remorse; but she -suffered cruelly when her selfish vanity was wounded, or her comfort -disturbed. - -She resumed her luxurious mode of living, but, having disposed of a -part of her income, found it difficult to make both ends meet. - -This furnished her with an inexhaustible text for complaint; and at -every meal she reproached Valentine so unmercifully, that the poor -girl shrank from coming to the table. - -She seemed to forget her own command, that the past should be buried -in oblivion, and constantly recurred to it for food for her anger; a -day seldom passed, that she did not say to Valentine: - -"Your conduct has ruined me." - -One day her daughter could not refrain from replying: - -"I suppose you would have pardoned the fault, had it enriched us." - -But these revolts of Valentine were rare, although her life was a -series of tortures inflicted with inquisitorial cruelty. - -Even the memory of Gaston had become a suffering. - -Perhaps, discovering the uselessness of her sacrifice, of her courage, -and her devotion to what she had considered her duty, she regretted -not having followed him. What had become of him? Might he not have -contrived to send her a letter, a word to let her know that he was -still alive? Perhaps he was not dead. Perhaps he had forgotten her. He -had sworn to return a rich man before the lapse of three years. Would -he ever return? - -There was a risk in his returning under any circumstances. His -disappearance had not ended the terrible affair of Tarascon. He was -supposed to be dead; but as there was no positive proof of his death, -and his body could not be found, the law was compelled to yield to the -clamor of public opinion. - -The case was brought before the assize court; and, in default of -appearance, Gaston de Clameran was sentenced to several years of close -confinement. - -As to Louis de Clameran, no one knew positively what had become of -him. Some people said he was leading a life of reckless extravagance -in Paris. - -Informed of these facts by her faithful Mihonne, Valentine became more -gloomy and hopeless than ever. Vainly did she question the dreary -future; no ray appeared upon the dark horizon of her life. - -Her elasticity was gone; and she had finally reached that state of -passive resignation peculiar to people who are oppressed and cowed at -home. - -In this miserable way, passed four years since the fatal evening when -Gaston left her. - -Mme. de la Verberie had spent these years in constant discomfort. -Seeing that she could not live upon her income, and having too much -pride to sell her land, which was so badly managed that it only -brought her in two per cent, she mortgaged her estate in order to -raise money only to be spent as soon as borrowed. - -In such matters, it is the first step that costs; and, after having -once commenced to live upon her capital, the countess made rapid -strides in extravagance, saying to herself, "After me, the deluge!" -Very much as her neighbor, the late Marquis of Clameran, had managed -his affairs, she was now conducting hers, having but one object in -view--her own comfort and pleasure. - -She made frequent visits to the neighboring towns of Nimes and -Avignon; she sent to Paris for the most elegant toilets, and -entertained a great deal of company. All the luxury that she had hoped -to obtain by the acquisition of a rich son-in-law, she determined to -give herself, utterly regardless of the fact that she was reducing her -child to beggary. Great sorrows require consolation! - -The summer that she returned from London, she did not hesitate to -indulge her fancy for a horse; it was rather old, to be sure, but, -when harnessed to a second-hand carriage bought on credit at -Beaucaire, made quite a good appearance. - -She would quiet her conscience, which occasionally reproached her for -this constant extravagance, by saying, "I am so unhappy!" - -The unhappiness was that this luxury cost her dear, very dear. - -After having sold the rest of her rents, the countess first mortgaged -the estate of La Verberie, and then the chateau itself. - -In less than four years she owed more than forty thousand francs, and -was unable to pay the interest of her debt. - -She was racking her mind to discover some means of escape from her -difficulties, when chance came to her rescue. - -For some time a young engineer, employed in surveys along the Rhone, -had made the village of Beaucaire the centre of his operations. - -Being handsome, agreeable, and of polished manners, he had been warmly -welcomed by the neighboring society, and the countess frequently met -him at the houses of her friends where she went to play cards in the -evenings. - -This young engineer was named Andre Fauvel. - -The first time he met Valentine he was struck by her beauty, and after -once looking into her large, melancholy eyes, his admiration deepened -into love; a love so earnest and passionate, that he felt that he -could never be happy without her. - -Before being introduced to her, his heart had surrendered itself to -her charms. - -He was wealthy; a splendid career was open to him, he was free; and he -swore that Valentine should be his. - -He confided all his matrimonial plans to an old friend of Mme. de la -Verberie, who was as noble as a Montmorency, and as poor as Job. - -With the precision of a graduate of the polytechnic school, he had -enumerated all his qualifications for being a model son-in-law. - -For a long time the old lady listened to him without interruption; -but, when he had finished, she did not hesitate to tell him that his -pretensions were presumptuous. - -What! he, a man of no pedigree, a Fauvel, a common surveyor, to aspire -to the hand of a La Verberie! - -After having enumerated all the superior advantages of that superior -order of beings, the nobility, she condescended to take a common-sense -view of the case, and said: - -"However, you may succeed. The poor countess owes money in every -direction; not a day passes without the bailiffs calling upon her; so -that, you understand, if a rich suitor appeared, and agreed to her -terms for settlements--well, well, there is no knowing what might -happen." - -Andre Fauvel was young and sentimental: the insinuations of the old -lady seemed to him preposterous. - -On reflection, however, when he had studied the character of the -nobility in the neighborhood, who were rich in nothing but prejudices, -he clearly saw that pecuniary considerations alone would be strong -enough to decide the proud Countess de la Verberie to grant him her -daughter's hand. - -This certainly ended his hesitations, and he turned his whole -attention to devising a plan for presenting his claim. - -He did not find this an easy thing to accomplish. To go in quest of a -wife with her purchase-money in his hand was repugnant to his -feelings, and contrary to his ideas of delicacy. But he had no one to -urge his suit for him on his own merits; so he was compelled to shut -his eyes to the distasteful features of his task, and treat his -passion as a matter of business. - -The occasion so anxiously awaited, to explain his intentions, soon -presented itself. - -One day he entered a hotel at Beaucaire, and, as he sat down to -dinner, he saw that Mme. de la Verberie was at the adjoining table. He -blushed deeply, and asked permission to sit at her table, which was -granted with a most encouraging smile. - -Did the countess suspect the love of the young engineer? Had she been -warned by her friend? - -At any rate, without giving Andre time to gradually approach the -subject weighing on his mind, she began to complain of the hard times, -the scarcity of money, and the grasping meanness of the trades-people. - -She had come to Beaucaire, indeed, to borrow money, and found every -bank and cash-box closed against her; and her lawyer had advised her -to sell her land for what it would bring. This made her very angry. - -Temper, joined to that secret instinct of the situation of affairs -which is the sixth sense of a woman, loosened her tongue, and made her -more communicative to this comparative stranger than she had ever been -to her bosom friends. She explained to him the horror of her -situation, her present needs, her anxiety for the future, and, above -all, her great distress at not being able to marry off her beloved -daughter. If she only had a dowry for her child! - -Andre listened to these complaints with becoming commiseration, but in -reality he was delighted. - -Without giving her time to finish her tale, he began to state what he -called his view of the matter. - -He said that, although he sympathized deeply with the countess, he -could not account for her uneasiness about her daughter. - -What? Could she be disturbed at having no dowry for her? Why, the rank -and beauty of Mlle. Valentine were a fortune in themselves, of which -any man might be proud. - -He knew more than one man who would esteem himself only too happy if -Mlle. Valentine would accept his name, and confer upon him the sweet -duty of relieving her mother from all anxiety and care. Finally, he -did not think the situation of the countess's affairs nearly so -desperate as she imagined. How much money would be necessary to pay -off the mortgages upon La Verberie? About forty thousand francs, -perhaps? Indeed! That was but a mere trifle. - -Besides, this sum need not be a gift from the son-in-law; if she -chose, it might be a loan, because the estate would be his in the end, -and in time the land would be double its present value; it would be a -pity to sell now. A man, too, worthy of Valentine's love could never -let his wife's mother want for the comforts and luxuries due to a lady -of her age, rank, and misfortunes. He would be only too glad to offer -her a sufficient income, not only to provide comfort, but even luxury. - -As Andre spoke, in a tone too earnest to be assumed, it seemed to the -countess that a celestial dew was dropping upon her pecuniary wounds. -Her countenance was radiant with joy, her fierce little eyes beamed -with the most encouraging tenderness, her thin lips were wreathed in -the most friendly smiles. - -One thought disturbed the young engineer. - -"Does she understand me seriously?" he thought. - -She certainly did, as her subsequent remarks proved. He saw that the -would-be sentimental old lady had an eye to business. - -"Alas!" she sighed, "La Verberie cannot be saved by forty thousand -francs; the principal and interest of the debt amount to sixty -thousand." - -"Oh, either forty or sixty thousand is nothing worth speaking of." - -"Four thousand francs is not enough to support a lady respectably," -she said after a pause. "Everything is so dear in this section of the -country! But with six thousand francs--yes, six thousand francs would -make me happy!" - -The young man thought that her demands were becoming excessive, but -with the generosity of an ardent lover he said: - -"The son-in-law of whom we are speaking cannot be very devoted to -Mlle. Valentine, if the paltry sum of two thousand francs were -objected to for an instant." - -"You promise too much!" muttered the countess. - -"The imaginary son-in-law," she finally added, "must be an honorable -man who will fulfil his promises. I have my daughter's happiness too -much at heart to give her to a man who did not produce--what do you -call them?--securities, guarantees." - -"Decidedly," thought Fauvel with mortification, "we are making a -bargain and sale." - -Then he said aloud: - -"Of course, your son-in-law would bind himself in the marriage -contract to--" - -"Never! monsieur, never! Put such an agreement in the marriage -contract! Think of the impropriety of the thing! What would the world -say?" - -"Permit me, madame, to suggest that your pension should be mentioned -as the interest of a sum acknowledged to have been received from you." - -"Well, that might do very well; that is very proper." - -The countess insisted upon taking Andre home in her carriage. During -the drive, no definite plan was agreed upon between them; but they -understood each other so well, that, when the countess set the young -engineer down at his own door, she invited him to dinner the next day, -and held out her skinny hand which Andre kissed with devotion, as he -thought of the rosy fingers of Valentine. - -When Mme. de la Verberie returned home, the servants were dumb with -astonishment at her good-humor: they had not seen her in this happy -frame of mind for years. - -And her day's work was of a nature to elevate her spirits: she had -been unexpectedly raised from poverty to affluence. She, who boasted -of such proud sentiments, never stopped to think of the infamy of the -transaction in which she had been engaged: it seemed quite right in -her selfish eyes. - -"A pension of six thousand francs!" she thought, "and a thousand -crowns from the estate, that makes nine thousand francs a year! My -daughter will live in Paris after she is married, and I can spend the -winters with my dear children without expense." - -At this price, she would have sold, not only one, but three daughters, -if she had possessed them. - -But suddenly her blood ran cold at a sudden thought, which crossed her -mind. - -"Would Valentine consent?" - -Her anxiety to set her mind at rest sent her straightway to her -daughter's room. She found Valentine reading by the light of a -flickering candle. - -"My daughter," she said abruptly, "an estimable young man has demanded -your hand in marriage, and I have promised it to him." - -On this startling announcement, Valentine started up and clasped her -hands. - -"Impossible!" she murmured, "impossible!" - -"Will you be good enough to explain why it is impossible?" - -"Did you tell him, mother, who I am, what I am? Did you confess----" - -"Your past fully? No, thank God, I am not fool enough for that, and I -hope you will have the sense to imitate my example, and keep silent on -the subject." - -Although Valentine's spirit was completely crushed by her mother's -tyranny, her sense of honor made her revolt against this demand. - -"You certainly would not wish me to marry an honest man, mother, -without confessing to him everything connected with the past? I could -never practise a deception so base." - -The countess felt very much like flying into a passion; but she knew -that threats would be of no avail in this instance, where resistance -would be a duty of conscience with her daughter. Instead of -commanding, she entreated. - -"Poor child," she said, "my poor, dear Valentine. If you only knew the -dreadful state of our affairs, you would not talk in this heartless -way. Your folly commenced our ruin; now it is at its last stage. Do -you know that our creditors threaten to drive us away from La -Verberie? Then what will become of us, my poor child? Must I in my old -age go begging from door to door? We are on the verge of ruin, and -this marriage is our only hope of salvation." - -These tearful entreaties were followed by plausible arguments. - -The fair-spoken countess made use of strange and subtle theories. What -she formerly regarded as a monstrous crime, she now spoke of as a -peccadillo. - -She could understand, she said, her daughter's scruples if there were -any danger of the past being brought to light; but she had taken such -precautions that there was no fear of that. - -Would it make her love her husband any the less? No. Would he be made -any happier for hearing that she had loved before? No. Then why say -anything about the past? - -Shocked, bewildered, Valentine asked herself if this was really her -mother? The haughty woman, who had always been such a worshipper of -honor and duty, to contradict every word she had uttered during her -life! Valentine could not understand the sudden change. - -But she would have understood it, had she known to what base deeds a -mind blunted by selfishness and vanity can lend itself. - -The countess's subtle arguments and shameful sophistry neither moved -nor convinced her; but she had not the courage to resist the tearful -entreaties of her mother, who ended by falling on her knees, and with -clasped hands imploring her child to save her from worse than death. - -Violently agitated, distracted by a thousand conflicting emotions, -daring neither to refuse nor to promise, fearing the consequences of a -decision thus forced from her, the unhappy girl begged her mother for -a few hours to reflect. - -Mme. de la Verberie dared not refuse this request, and acquiesced. - -"I will leave you, my daughter," she said, "and I trust your own heart -will tell you how to decide between a useless confession and your -mother's salvation." - -With these words she left the room indignant but hopeful. - -And she had grounds for hope. Placed between two obligations equally -sacred, equally binding, but diametrically opposite, Valentine's -troubled mind could no longer clearly discern the path of duty. Could -she reduce her mother to want and misery? Could she basely deceive the -confidence and love of an honorable man? However she decided, her -future life would be one of suffering and remorse. - -Alas! why had she not a wise and kind adviser to point out the right -course to pursue, and assist her in struggling against evil -influences? Why had she not that gentle, discreet friend who had -inspired her with hope and courage in her first dark sorrow--Dr. -Raget? - -Formerly the memory of Gaston had been her guiding star: now this far- -off memory was nothing but a faint mist--a sort of vanishing dream. - -In romance we meet with heroines of lifelong constancy: real life -produces no such miracles. - -For a long time Valentine's mind had been filled with the image of -Gaston. As the hero of her dreams she dwelt fondly on his memory; but -the shadows of time had gradually dimmed the brilliancy of her idol, -and now only preserved a cold relic, over which she sometimes wept. - -When she arose the next morning, pale and weak from a sleepless, -tearful night, she had almost resolved to confess everything to her -suitor. - -But when evening came, and she went down to see Andre Fauvel, the -presence of her mother's threatening, supplicating eye destroyed her -courage. - -She said to herself, "I will tell him to-morrow." Then she said, "I -will wait another day; one more day can make no difference." - -The countess saw all these struggles, but was not made uneasy by them. - -She knew by experience that, when a painful duty is put off, it is -never performed. - -There was some excuse for Valentine in the horror of her situation. -Perhaps, unknown to herself, she felt a faint hope arise within her. -Any marriage, even an unhappy one, offered the prospect of a change, -of a new life, a relief from the insupportable suffering she was now -enduring. - -Sometimes, in her ignorance of human life, she imagined that time and -close intimacy would take it easier for her to confess her terrible -fault; that it would be the most natural thing in the world for Andre -to pardon her, and insist upon marrying her, since he loved her so -deeply. - -That he sincerely loved her, she knew full well. It was not the -impetuous passion of Gaston, with its excitements and terrors, but a -calm, steady affection, more lasting than the intoxicating love of -Gaston was ever likely to be. She felt a sort of blissful rest in its -legitimacy and constancy. - -Thus Valentine gradually became accustomed to Andre's soothing -presence, and was surprised into feeling very happy at the constant -delicate attentions and looks of affection that he lavished upon her. -She did not feel any love for him yet; but a separation would have -distressed her deeply. - -During the courtship the countess's conduct was a masterpiece. - -She suddenly ceased to importune her daughter, and with tearful -resignation said she would not attempt to influence her decision, that -her happy settlement in life was the only anxiety that weighed upon -her mind. - -But she went about the house sighing and groaning as if she were upon -the eve of starving to death. She also made arrangements to be -tormented by the bailiffs. Attachments and notices to quit poured in -at La Verberie, which she would show to Valentine and, with tears in -her eyes, say: - -"God grant we may not be driven from the home of our ancestors before -your marriage, my darling!" - -Knowing that her presence was sufficient to freeze any confession on -her daughter's lips, she never left her alone with Andre. - -"Once married," she thought, "they can settle the matter to suit -themselves. I shall not then be disturbed by it." - -She was as impatient as Andre, and hastened the preparations for the -wedding. She gave Valentine no opportunity for reflection. She kept -her constantly busy, either in driving to town to purchase some -article of dress, or in paying visits. - -At last the eve of the wedding-day found her anxious and oppressed -with fear lest something should prevent the consummation of her hopes -and labors. She was like a gambler who had ventured his last stake. - -On this night, for the first time, Valentine found herself alone with -the man who was to become her husband. - -She was sitting at twilight, in the parlor, miserable and trembling, -anxious to unburden her mind, and yet frightened at the very thought -of doing so, when Andre entered. Seeing that she was agitated, he -pressed her hand, and gently begged her to tell him the cause of her -sorrow. - -"Am I not your best friend," he said, "and ought I not to be the -confidant of your troubles, if you have any? Why these tears, my -darling?" - -Now was the time for her to confess, and throw herself upon his -generosity. But her trembling lips refused to open when she thought of -his pain and anguish, and the anger of her mother, which would be -caused by the few words she would utter. She felt that it was too -late; and, bursting into tears, she cried out, "I am afraid-- What -shall I do?" - -Imagining that she was merely disturbed by the vague fears experienced -by most young girls when about to marry, he tried, with tender, loving -words, to console and reassure her, promising to shield her from every -care and sorrow, if she would only trust to his devoted love. But what -was his surprise to find that his affectionate words only increased -her distress; she buried her face in her hands, and wept as if her -heart would break. - -While she was thus summoning her courage, and he was entreating her -confidence, Mme. de la Verberie came hurrying into the room for them -to sign the contract. - -The opportunity was lost; Andre Fauvel was left in ignorance. - -The next day, a lovely spring morning, Andre Fauvel and Valentine de -la Verberie were married at the village church. - -Early in the morning, the chateau was filled with the bride's friends, -who came, according to custom, to assist at her wedding toilet. - -Valentine forced herself to appear calm, even smiling; but her face -was whiter than her veil; her heart was torn by remorse. She felt as -though the sad truth were written upon her brow; and this pure white -dress was a bitter irony, a galling humiliation. - -She shuddered when her most intimate school-mate placed the wreath of -orange-blossoms upon her head. These emblems of purity seemed to burn -her like a band of red-hot iron. One of the wire stems of the flowers -scratched her forehead, and a drop of blood fell upon her snowy robe. - -What an evil omen! Valentine was near fainting when she thought of the -past and the future connected by this bloody sign of woe. - -But presages are deceitful, as it proved with Valentine; for she -became a happy woman and a loving wife. - -Yes, at the end of her first year of married life, she confessed to -herself that her happiness would be complete if she could only forget -the terrible past. - -Andre adored her. He had been wonderfully successful in his business -affairs; he wished to be immensely rich, not for himself, but for the -sake of his beloved wife, whom he would surround with every luxury. He -thought her the most beautiful woman in Paris, and determined that she -should be the most superbly dressed. - -Eighteen months after her marriage, Madame Fauvel presented her -husband with a son. But neither this child, nor a second son born a -year later, could make her forget the first one of all, the poor, -forsaken babe who had been thrown upon strangers, mercenaries, who -valued the money, but not the child for whom it was paid. - -She would look at her two sons, surrounded by every luxury which money -could give, and murmur to herself: - -"Who knows if the abandoned one has bread to eat?" - -If she only knew where he was: if she only dared inquire! But she was -afraid. - -Sometimes she would be uneasy about Gaston's jewels, constantly -fearing that their hiding-place would be discovered. Then she would -think, "I may as well be tranquil; misfortune has forgotten me." - -Poor, deluded woman! Misfortune is a visitor who sometimes delays his -visits, but always comes in the end. - - - -XV - -Louis de Clameran, the second son of the marquis, was one of those -self-controlled men who, beneath a cool, careless manner, conceal a -fiery temperament, and ungovernable passions. - -All sorts of extravagant ideas had begun to ferment in his disordered -brain, long before the occurrence which decided the destiny of the -Clameran family. - -Apparently occupied in the pursuit of pleasure, this precocious -hypocrite longed for a larger field in which to indulge his evil -inclinations, secretly cursing the stern necessity which chained him -down to this dreary country life, and the old chateau, which to him -was more gloomy than a prison, and as lifeless as the grave. - -This existence, dragged out in the country and the small neighboring -towns, was too monotonous for his restless nature. The paternal -authority, though so gently expressed, exasperated his rebellious -temper. He thirsted for independence, riches, excitement, and all the -unknown pleasures that pall upon the senses simultaneously with their -attainment. - -Louis did not love his father, and he hated his brother Gaston. - -The old marquis, in his culpable thoughtlessness, had kindled this -burning envy in the heart of his second son. - -A strict observer of traditional rights, he had always declared that -the eldest son of a noble house should inherit all the family -possessions, and that he intended to leave Gaston his entire fortune. - -This flagrant injustice and favoritism inspired Louis with envious -hatred for his brother. - -Gaston always said that he would never consent to profit by this -paternal partiality, but would share equally with his brother. Judging -others by himself, Louis placed no faith in this assertion, which he -called an ostentatious affectation of generosity. - -Although this hatred was unsuspected by the marquis and Gaston, it was -betrayed by acts significant enough to attract the attention of the -servants, who often commented upon it. - -They were so fully aware of Louis's sentiments toward his brother -that, when he was prevented from escaping because of the stumbling -horse, they refused to believe it an accident; and, whenever Louis -came near would mutter, "Fratricide!" - -A deplorable scene took place between Louis and St. Jean, who was -allowed, on account of his fifty years' faithful service, to take -liberties which he sometimes abused by making rough speeches to his -superiors. - -"It is a great pity," said the old servant, "that a skilful rider like -yourself should have fallen at the very moment when your brother's -life depended upon your horsemanship." - -At this broad insinuation, Louis turned pale, and threateningly cried -out: - -"You insolent dog, what do you mean?" - -"You know well enough what I mean, monsieur," the old man said, -significantly. - -"I do not know! Explain your impertinence: speak, I tell you!" - -The man only answered by a meaning look, which so incensed Louis that -he rushed toward him with upraised whip, and would have beaten him -unmercifully, had not the other servants interfered, and dragged St. -Jean from the spot. - -This altercation occurred while Gaston was in the madder-field trying -to escape his pursuers. - -After a while the gendarmes and hussars returned, with slow tread and -sad faces, to say that Gaston de Clameran had plunged into the Rhone, -and was instantly drowned. - -This melancholy news was received with groans and tears by everyone -save Louis, who remained calm and unmoved: not a single muscle of his -face quivered. - -But his eyes sparkled with triumph. A secret voice cried within him, -"Now you are assured of the family fortune, and a marquis's coronet." - -He was no longer the poverty-stricken younger son, but the sole heir -of the Clamerans. - -The corporal of the gendarmes had said: - -"I would not be the one to tell the poor old man that his son is -drowned." - -Louis felt none of the tender-hearted scruples of the brave old -soldier. He instantly went to his father's sick-room, and said, in a -firm voice: - -"My brother had to choose between disgrace and death; he is dead." - -Like a sturdy oak stricken by lightning, the marquis tottered and fell -when these fatal words sounded in his ears. The doctor soon arrived, -but alas! only to say that science was of no avail. - -Toward daybreak, Louis, without a tear, received his father's last -sigh. - -Louis was now the master. - -All the unjust precautions taken by the marquis to elude the law, and -insure beyond dispute the possession of his entire fortune to his -eldest son, turned against him. - -By means of a fraudulent deed of trust drawn by his dishonest lawyer, -M. de Clameran had disposed everything so that, on the day of his -death, every farthing he owned would be Gaston's. - -Louis alone was benefited by this precaution. He came into possession -without even being called upon for the certificate of his brother's -death. - -He was now Marquis of Clameran; he was free, he was comparatively -rich. He who had never had twenty-five crowns in his pocket at once, -now found himself the possessor of two hundred thousand francs. - -This sudden, unexpected fortune so completely turned his head that he -forgot his skilful dissimulation. His demeanor at the funeral of the -marquis was much censured. He followed the coffin, with his head bowed -and his face buried in a handkerchief; but this did not conceal the -buoyancy of his spirit, and the joy which sparkled in his eyes. - -The day after the funeral, Louis sold everything that he could dispose -of, horses, carriages, and family plate. - -The next day he discharged all the old servants, who had hoped to end -their days beneath the hospitable roof of Clameran. Several, with -tears in their eyes, took him aside, and entreated him to let them -stay without wages. He roughly ordered them to be gone, and never -appear before his eyes again. - -He sent for his father's lawyer, and gave him a power of attorney to -sell the estate, and received in return the sum of twenty thousand -francs as the first payment in advance. - -At the close of the week, he locked up the chateau, with a vow never -to cross its sill again, and left the keys in the keeping of St. Jean, -who owned a little house near Clameran, and would continue to live in -the neighborhood. - -Poor St. Jean! little did he think that, in preventing Valentine from -seeing Louis, he had ruined the prospects of his beloved Gaston. - -On receiving the keys he asked one question: - -"Shall we not search for your brother's body, M. the marquis?" he -inquired in broken-hearted tones. "And, if it is found, what must be -done with it?" - -"I shall leave instructions with my notary," replied Louis. And he -hurried away from Clameran as if the ground burnt his feet. He went to -Tarascon, where he had already forwarded his baggage, and took the -stage-coach which travelled between Marseilles and Paris, the railroad -not yet being finished. - -At last he was off. The lumbering old stage rattled along, drawn by -six horses; and the deep gullies made by the wheels seemed so many -abysses between the past and the future. - -Lying back in a corner of the stage, Louis de Clameran enjoyed in -anticipation the fields of pleasure spread before his dazzled eyes. At -the end of the journey, Paris rose up before him, radiant, brilliantly -dazzling as the sun. - -Yes, he was going to Paris, the promised land, the city of wonders, -where every Aladdin finds a lamp. There all ambitions are crowned, all -dreams realized, all passions, all desires, good and evil, can be -satisfied. - -There the fast-fleeting days are followed by nights of ever-varied -pleasure and excitement. In twenty theatres tragedy weeps, or comedy -laughs; whilst at the opera the most beautiful women in the world, -sparkling with diamonds, are ready to die with ecstasy at the sound of -divine music; everywhere noise, excitement, luxury, and pleasure. - -What a dream! The heart of Louis de Clameran was swollen with desire, -and he felt that he should go mad if the horses crawled with such -torturing slowness: he would like to spring from the old stage, and -fly to his haven of delight. - -He never once thought of the past with a pang of regret. What mattered -it to him how his father and brother had died? All his energies were -devoted to penetrating the mysterious future that now awaited him. - -Was not every chance in his favor? He was young, rich, handsome, and a -marquis. He had a constitution of iron; he carried twenty thousand -francs in his pocket, and would soon have ten times as many more. - -He, who had always been poor, regarded this sum as an exhaustless -treasure. - -And at nightfall, when he jumped from the stage upon the brilliantly -lighted street of Paris, he seemed to be taking possession of the -grand city, and felt as though he could buy everything in it. - -His illusions were those natural to all young men who suddenly come -into possession of a patrimony after years of privation. - -It is this ignorance of the real value of money that squanders -fortunes, and fritters away accumulated patrimonies so laboriously -earned and saved in the frugal provinces. - -Imbued with his own importance, accustomed to the deference of the -country people, the young marquis came to Paris with the expectation -of being a lion, supposing that his name and fortune were sufficient -to place him upon any pinnacle he might desire. - -He was mortified to discover his error. To his great surprise he -discovered that he possessed nothing which constituted a position in -this immense city. He found that in the midst of this busy, -indifferent crowd, he was lost, as unnoticed as a drop of water in a -torrent. - -But this unflattering reality could not discourage a man who was -determined to gratify his passion at all costs. His ancestral name -gained him but one privilege, disastrous for his future: it opened to -him the doors of the Faubourg St. Germain. - -There he became intimate with men of his own age and rank, whose -incomes were larger than his principal. - -Nearly all of them confessed that they only kept up their extravagant -style of living by dint of skilful economy behind the scenes, and by -regulating their vices and follies as judiciously as a hosier would -manage his Sunday holidays. - -This information astonished Louis, but did not open his eyes. He -endeavored to imitate the dashing style of these economically wasteful -young men, without pretending to conform to their prudential rules. He -learned how to spend, but not how to settle his accounts as they did. - -He was Marquis of Clameran, and, having given himself a reputation of -great wealth, he was welcomed by the /elite/ of society; if he made no -friends, he had at least many acquaintances. Among the set into which -he was received immediately upon his arrival, he found ten satellites -who took pleasure in initiating him into the secrets of fashionable -life, and correcting any little provincialisms betrayed in his manners -and conversation. - -He profited well and quickly by their lessons. At the end of three -months he was fairly launched; his reputation as a skilful gambler and -one of the fastest men in Paris was fully established. - -He had rented handsome apartments, with a coach-house and stable for -three horses. - -Although he only furnished this bachelor's establishment with what was -necessary and comfortable, he found that comforts were very costly in -this instance. - -So that the day he took possession of his apartments, and looked over -his bills, he made the startling discovery that this short -apprenticeship of Paris had cost him fifty-thousand francs, one-fourth -of his fortune. - -Still he clung to his brilliant friends, although in a state of -inferiority which was mortifying to his vanity, like a poor squire -straining every nerve to make his nag keep up with blooded horses in a -race. - -Fifty thousand francs! For a moment Louis had a faint idea of -retreating from the scene of temptation. But what a fall! Besides, his -vices bloomed and flourished in this charming centre. He had -heretofore considered himself fast; but the past was a state of -unsophisticated verdancy, compared with the thousand attractive sins -in which he now indulged. - -Then the sight of suddenly acquired fortunes, and the many examples of -the successful results of hazardous ventures, inflamed his mind, and -persuaded him to try his fortune in the game of speculation. - -He thought that in this great, rich city, he certainly could succeed -in seizing a share of the loaves and fishes. - -But how? He had no idea, and he did not seek to find one. He imagined -that his good fortune would some day come, and that all he had to do -was to wait for it. - -This is one of the errors which it is time to destroy. - -Fortune is not to be wasted upon idle fools. - -In this furious race of self-interest, it requires great skill to -bestride the capricious mare called Opportunity, and make her lead to -the end in view. Every winner must possess a strong will and a -dexterous hand. But Louis did not devote much thought to the matter. -Like the foolish man who wished to draw the prize without contributing -to the raffle, he thought: - -"Bast! opportunity, chance, a rich marriage will put me all right -again!" - -The rich bride failed to appear, and his last louis had gone the way -of its predecessors. - -To a pressing demand for money, his notary replied by a refusal. - -"Your lands are all gone," he wrote; "you now possess nothing but the -chateau. It is very valuable, but it is difficult, if not impossible, -to find a purchaser of so large an amount of real estate, in its -present condition. I will use every effort to make a good sale, and if -successful, will inform you of the fact immediately." Louis was -thunderstruck at this final catastrophe, as much surprised as if he -could have expected any other result. But what could he do? - -Ruined, with nothing to look forward to, the best course was to -imitate the large number of poor fools who each year rise up, shine a -moment, then suddenly disappear. - -But Louis could not renounce this life of ease and pleasure which he -had been leading for the last three years. After leaving his fortune -on the battle-ground, he was willing to leave the shreds of his honor. - -He first lived on the reputation of his dissipated fortune; on the -credit remaining to a man who has spent much in a short space of time. - -This resource was soon exhausted. - -The day came when his creditors seized all they could lay their hands -upon, the last remains of his opulence, his carriages, horses, and -costly furniture. - -He took refuge in a quiet hotel, but he could not keep away from the -wealthy set whom he considered his friends. - -He lived upon them as he had lived upon the tradesmen who furnished -his supplies. Borrowing from one louis up to twenty-five, from anybody -who would lend to him, he never pretended to pay them. Constantly -betting, no one ever saw him pay a wager. He piloted all the raw young -men who fell into his hands, and utilized, in rendering shameful -services, an experience which had cost him two hundred thousand -francs; he was half courtier, half adventurer. - -He was not banished, but was made to cruelly expiate the favor of -being tolerated. No one had the least regard for his feelings, or -hesitated to tell him to his face what was thought of his unprincipled -conduct. - -Thus, when alone in his little den, he would give way to fits of -violent rage. He had not yet reached a state of callousness to be able -to endure these humiliations without the keenest torture to his false -pride and vanity. - -Envy and covetousness had long since stifled every sentiment of honor -and self-respect in his base heart. For a few years of opulence he was -ready to commit any crime. - -And, though he did not commit a crime, he came very near it, and was -the principal in a disgraceful affair of swindling and extortion, -which raised such an outcry against him that he was obliged to leave -Paris. - -Count de Commarin, an old friend of his father, hushed up the matter, -and furnished him with money to take him to England. - -And how did he manage to live in London? - -The detectives of the most corrupt capital in existence were the only -people who knew his means of support. - -Descending to the last stages of vice, the Marquis of Clameran finally -found his level in a society composed of shameless women and gamblers. - -Compelled to quit London, he travelled over Europe, with no other -capital than his knavish audacity, deep depravity, and his skill at -cards. - -Finally, in 1865, he had a run of good luck at Homburg, and returned -to Paris, where he imagined himself entirely forgotten. - -Eighteen years had passed since he left Paris. - -The first step which he took on his return, before even settling -himself in Paris, was to make a visit to his old home. - -Not that he had any relative or friend in that part of the country, -from whom he could expect any assistance; but he remembered the old -manor, which his notary had been unable to sell. - -He thought that perhaps by this time a purchaser had appeared, and he -determined to go himself and ascertain how much he should receive for -this old chateau, which had cost one hundred thousand francs in the -building. - -On a beautiful October evening he reached Tarascon, and there learned -that he was still the owner of the chateau of Clameran. The next -morning, he set out on foot to visit the paternal home, which he had -not seen for twenty-five years. - -Everything was so changed that he scarcely recognized this country, -where he had been born, and passed his youth. - -Yet the impression was so strong, that this man, tried by such varied, -strange adventures, for a moment felt like retracing his steps. - -He only continued his road because a secret, hopeful voice cried in -him, "Onward, onward!"--as if, at the end of the journey, was to be -found a new life and the long-wished-for good fortune. - -As Louis advanced, the changes appeared less striking; he began to be -familiar with the ground. - -Soon, through the trees, he distinguished the village steeple, then -the village itself, built upon the gentle rising of a hill, crowned by -a wood of olive-trees. - -He recognized the first houses he saw: the farrier's shed covered with -ivy, the old parsonage, and farther on the village tavern, where he -and Gaston used to play billiards. - -In spite of what he called his scorn of vulgar prejudices, he felt a -thrill of strange emotion as he looked on these once familiar objects. - -He could not overcome a feeling of sadness as scenes of the past rose -up before him. - -How many events had occurred since he last walked along this path, and -received a friendly bow and smile from every villager. - -Then life appeared to him like a fairy scene, in which his every wish -was gratified. And now, he had returned, dishonored, worn out, -disgusted with the realities of life, still tasting the bitter dregs -of the cup of shame, stigmatized, poverty-stricken, and friendless, -with nothing to lose, and nothing to look forward to. - -The few villagers whom he met turned and stood gazing after this dust- -covered stranger, and wondered who he could be. - -Upon reaching St. Jean's house, he found the door open; he walked into -the immense empty kitchen. - -He rapped on the table, and was answered by a voice calling out: - -"Who is there?" - -The next moment a man of about forty years appeared in the doorway, -and seemed much surprised at finding a stranger standing in his -kitchen. - -"What will you have, monsieur?" he inquired. - -"Does not St. Jean, the old valet of the Marquis of Clameran, live -here?" - -"My father died five years ago, monsieur," replied the man in a sad -tone. - -This news affected Louis painfully, as if he had expected this old man -to restore him some of his lost youth; the last link was gone. He -sighed, and, after a silence, said: - -"I am the Marquis of Clameran." - -The farmer, at these words, uttered an exclamation of joy. He seized -Louis's hand, and, pressing it with respectful attention, cried: - -"You are the marquis! Alas!" he continued, "why is not my poor father -alive to see you? he would be so happy! His last words were about his -dear masters, and many a time did he sigh and mourn at not receiving -any news of you. He is beneath the sod now, resting after a well-spent -life; but I, Joseph, his son, am here to take his place, and devote my -life to your service. What an honor it is to have you in my house! Ah, -my wife will be happy to see you; she has all her life heard of the -Clamerans." - -Here he ran into the garden, and called: "Toinette! I say, Toinette! -Come here quickly!" - -This cordial welcome delighted Louis. So many years had gone by since -he had been greeted with an expression of kindness, or felt the -pressure of a friendly hand. - -In a few moments a handsome, dark-eyed young woman entered the room, -and stood blushing with confusion at sight of the stranger. - -"This is my wife, monsieur," said Joseph, leading her toward Louis, -"but I have not given her time to put on her finery. This is M. the -marquis, Antoinette." - -The farmer's wife bowed, and, having nothing to say, gracefully -uplifted her brow upon which the marquis pressed a kiss. - -"You will see the children in a few minutes, M. the marquis," said -Joseph; "I have sent to the school for them." - -The worthy couple overwhelmed the marquis with attentions. - -After so long a walk he must be hungry, they said; he must take a -glass of wine now, and breakfast would soon be ready; they would be so -proud and happy if M. the marquis would partake of a country -breakfast! - -Louis willingly accepted their invitation; and Joseph went to the -cellar after the wine, while Toinette ran to catch her fattest pullet. - -In a short time, Louis sat down to a table laden with the best of -everything on the farm, waited upon by Joseph and his wife, who -watched him with respectful interest and awe. - -The children came running in from school, smeared with the juice of -berries. After Louis had embraced them they stood off in a corner, and -gazed at him with eyes wide open, as if he were a rare curiosity. - -The important news had spread, and a number of villagers and -countrymen appeared at the open door, to speak to the Marquis of -Clameran. - -"I am such a one, M. the marquis; don't you remember me?" "Ah! I -should have recognized you anywhere." "The late marquis was very good -to me." Another would say, "Don't you remember the time when you lent -me your gun to go hunting?" - -Louis welcomed with secret delight all these protestations and proofs -of devotion which had not chilled with time. - -The kindly voices of these honest people recalled many pleasant -moments of the past, and made him feel once more the fresh sensations -of his youth. - -Here, at least, no echoes of his stormy life had been heard; no -suspicions of his shameful career were entertained by these humble -villagers on the borders of the Rhone. - -He, the adventurer, the bully, the base accomplice of London -swindlers, delighted in these marks of respect and veneration, -bestowed upon him as the representative of the house of Clameran; it -seemed to make him once more feel a little self-respect, as if the -future were not utterly hopeless. - -Ah, had he possessed only a quarter of his squandered inheritance, how -happy he would be to peacefully end his days in this his native -village! - -But this rest after so many vain excitements, this haven after so many -storms and shipwrecks, was denied him. He was penniless; how could he -live here when he had nothing to live upon? - -This thought of his pressing want gave him courage to ask Joseph for -the key of the chateau, that he might go and examine its condition. - -"You won't need the key, except the one to the front door, M. the -marquis," replied Joseph. - -It was but too true. Time had done its work, and the lordly manor of -Clameran was nothing but a ruin. The rain and sun had rotted the -shutters so that they were crumbling and dilapidated. - -Here and there were traces of the friendly hand of St. Jean, who had -tried to retard the total ruin of the old chateau; but of what use -were his efforts? - -Within, the desolation was still greater. All of the furniture which -Louis had not dared to sell stood in the position he left it, but in -what a state! All of the tapestry hangings and coverings were moth- -eaten and in tatters; nothing seemed left but the dust-covered -woodwork of the chairs and sofas. - -Louis was almost afraid to enter these grand, gloomy rooms, where -every footfall echoed until the air seemed to be filled with sounds -strange and ominous. - -He almost expected to see the angry old marquis start from some dark -corner, and heap curses on his head for having dishonored the name. - -He turned pale with terror, when he suddenly recalled the scene of his -fatal stumble and poor Gaston's death. The room was surely inhabited -by the spirits of these two murdered men. His nerves could not bear -it, and he hurried out into the open air and sunshine. - -After a while, he recovered sufficiently to remember the object of his -visit. - -"Poor St. Jean was foolish to let the furniture in the chateau drop to -pieces. Why did he not use it?" - -"My father would not have dared to touch anything without receiving an -order, M. the marquis." - -"He was very unwise to wait for an order, when anything was going to -destruction without benefiting anyone. As the chateau is fast -approaching the condition of the furniture, and my fortune does not -permit me to repair it, I will sell it before the walls crumble away." - -Joseph could scarcely believe his ears. He regarded the selling of the -chateau of Clameran as a sacrilege; but he was not bold of speech, -like his father, so he dared not express an opinion. - -"Would there be difficulty in selling this ruin?" continued Louis. - -"That depends upon the price you ask, M. the marquis; I know a man who -would purchase the property if he could get it cheap." - -"Who is he?" - -"M. Fougeroux, who lives on the other side of the river. He came from -Beaucaire, and twelve years ago married a servant-maid of the late -Countess de la Verberie. Perhaps M. the marquis remembers her--a -plump, bright-eyed brunette, named Mihonne." - -Louis did not remember Mihonne. - -"When can we see this Fougeroux?" he inquired. - -"To-day; I will engage a boat to take us over." - -"Well, let us go now. I have no time to lose." - -An entire generation has passed away since Louis had last crossed the -Rhone in old Pilorel's boat. - -The faithful ferryman had been buried many years, and his duties were -now performed by his son, who, possessing great respect for -traditional opinions, was delighted at the honor of rowing the Marquis -of Clameran in his boat, and soon had it ready for Louis and Joseph to -take their seats. - -As soon as they were fairly started, Joseph began to warn the marquis -against the wily Fougeroux. - -"He is a cunning fox," said the farmer; "I have had a bad opinion of -him ever since his marriage, which was a shameful affair altogether. -Mihonne was over fifty years of age, and he was only twenty-four, when -he married her; so you may know it was money, and not a wife, that he -wanted. She, poor fool, believed that the young scamp really loved -her, and gave herself and her money up to him. Women will be trusting -fools to the end of time! And Fougeroux is not the man to let money -lie idle. He speculated with Mihonne's gold, and is now very rich. But -she, poor thing, does not profit by his wealth; one can easily -understand his not feeling any love for her, when she looks like his -grandmother; but he deprives her of the necessaries of life, and beats -her cruelly." - -"He would like to plant her six feet under ground," said the ferryman. - -"Well, it won't be long before he has the satisfaction of burying -her," said Joseph; "the poor old woman has been in almost a dying -condition ever since Fougeroux brought a worthless jade to take charge -of the house, and makes his wife wait upon her like a servant." - -When they reached the opposite shore, Joseph asked young Pilorel to -await their return. - -Joseph knocked at the gate of the well-cultivated farm, and inquired -for the master; the farm-boy said that "M. Fougeroux" was out in the -field, but he would go and tell him. - -He soon appeared. He was an ill-looking little man, with a red beard -and small, restless eyes. - -Although M. Fougeroux professed to despise the nobility and the -clergy, the hope of driving a good bargain made him obsequious to -Louis. He insisted upon ushering his visitor into "the parlor," with -may bows and repetitions of "M. the marquis." - -Upon entering the room, he roughly ordered an old woman, who was -crouching over some dying embers, to make haste and bring some wine -for M. the marquis of Clameran. - -At this name, the old woman started as if she had received an electric -shock. She opened her mouth to say something, but a look from her -tyrant froze the words upon her lips. With a frightened air she -hobbled out to obey his orders, and in a few minutes returned with a -bottle of wine and three glasses. - -Then she resumed her seat by the fire, and kept her eyes fastened upon -the marquis. - -Could this really be the merry, pretty Mihonne, who had been the -confidant of the little fairy of Verberie? - -Valentine herself would never have recognized this poor, shrivelled, -emaciated old woman. - -Only those who are familiar with country life know what hard work and -worry can do to make a woman old. - -The bargain, meanwhile, was being discussed between Joseph and -Fougeroux, who offered a ridiculously small sum for the chateau, -saying that he would only buy it to tear down, and sell the materials. -Joseph enumerated the beams, joists, ashlars, and the iron-work, and -volubly praised the old domain. - -As for Mihonne, the presence of the marquis had a wonderful effect -upon her. - -If the faithful servant had hitherto never breathed the secret -confided to her probity, it was none the less heavy for her to bear. - -After marrying, and being so harshly treated that she daily prayed for -death to come to her relief, she began to blame everybody but herself -for her misfortunes. - -Weakly superstitious, she traced back the origin of her sorrows to the -day when she took the oath on the holy gospel during mass. - -Her constant prayers that God would send her a child to soothe her -wounded heart, being unanswered, she was convinced that she was cursed -with barrenness for having assisted in the abandonment of an innocent, -helpless babe. - -She often thought, that by revealing everything, she could appease the -wrath of Heaven, and once more enjoy a happy home. Nothing but her -love for Valentine gave her strength to resist a constant temptation -to confess everything. - -But to-day the sight of Louis decided her to relieve her mind. She -thought there could be no danger in confiding in Gaston's brother. -Alas for woman's tongue! - -The sale was finally concluded. It was agreed that Fougeroux should -give five thousand two hundred and eighty francs in cash for the -chateau, and land attached; and Joseph was to have the old furniture. - -The marquis and the new owner of the chateau shook hands, and noisily -called out the essential word: - -"Agreed!" - -Fougeroux went himself to get the "bargain bottle" of old wine. - -The occasion was favorable to Mihonne; she walked quickly over to -where the marquis stood, and said in a nervous whisper: - -"M. the marquis, I must speak with you apart." - -"What can you want to tell me, my good woman?" - -"It is a secret of life and death. This evening, at dusk, meet me in -the walnut wood, and I will tell you everything." - -Hearing her husband's approaching step, she darted back to her corner -by the fire. - -Fougeroux filled the glasses, and drank to the health of Clameran. - -As they returned to the boat, Louis tried to think what could be the -object of this singular rendezvous. - -"Joseph, what the deuce can that old witch want with me?" he said -musingly. - -"Who can tell? She used to be in the service of a lady who was very -intimate with M. Gaston; so my father used to say. If I were in your -place I would go and see what she wanted, monsieur. You can dine with -me, and, after dinner, Pilorel will row you over." - -Curiosity decided Louis to go, about seven o'clock, to the walnut -wood, where he found Mihonne impatiently awaiting him. - -"Ah, here you are, at last, M. the marquis," she said, in a tone of -relief. "I was afraid you would disappoint me." - -"Yes, here I am, my good woman, to listen to what you have to say." - -"I have many things to say. But first tell me some news of your -brother." - -Louis regretted having come, supposing from this request that the old -woman was childish, and might bother him for hours with her senseless -gabble. - -"You know well enough that my poor brother was drowned in the Rhone." - -"Good heavens!" cried Mihonne, "are you ignorant, then, of his escape? -Yes, he did what has never been done before; he swam across the -swollen Rhone. The next day Mlle. Valentine went to Clameran to tell -the news; but St. Jean prevented her from seeing you. Afterward I -carried a letter from her, but you had left the country." - -Louis could not believe this strange revelation. - -"Are you not mixing up dreams with real events, my good woman?" he -said banteringly. - -"No," she replied, mournfully shaking her head. "If Pere Menoul were -alive, he would tell you how he took charge of your brother until he -embarked for Marseilles. But that is nothing compared to the rest. M. -Gaston has a son." - -"My brother had a son! You certainly have lost your mind, my poor -woman." - -"Alas, no. Unfortunately for my happiness in this world and in the -world to come, I am only telling the truth; he had a child, and Mlle. -Valentine was its mother. I took the poor babe, and carried it to a -woman whom I paid to take charge of it." - -Then Mihonne described the anger of the countess, the journey to -London, and the abandonment of little Raoul. - -With the accurate memory natural to people unable to read and write, -she related the most minute particulars--the names of the village, the -nurse, the child's Christian name, and the exact date of everything -which had occurred. - -Then she told of Valentine's wretched suffering, of the impending ruin -of the countess, and finally how everything was happily settled by the -poor girl's marriage with an immensely rich man, who was now one of -the richest bankers in Paris, and was named Fauvel. - -A harsh voice calling, "Mihonne! Mihonne!" here interrupted the old -woman. - -"Heavens!" she cried in a frightened tone, "that is my husband, -looking for me." - -And, as fast as her trembling limbs could carry her, she hurried to -the farm-house. - -For several minutes after her departure, Louis stood rooted to the -spot. - -Her recital had filled his wicked mind with an idea so infamous, so -detestable, that even his vile nature shrank for a moment from its -enormity. - -He knew Fauvel by reputation, and was calculating the advantages he -might gain by the strange information of which he was now possessed by -means of the old Mihonne. It was a secret, which, if skilfully -managed, would bring him in a handsome income. - -The few faint scruples he felt were silenced by the thought of an old -age spent in poverty. After the price of the chateau was spent, to -what could he look forward? Beggary. - -"But first of all," he thought, "I must ascertain the truth of the old -woman's story; then I will decide upon a plan." - -This was why, the next day, after receiving the five thousand two -hundred and eighty francs from Fougeroux, Louis de Clameran set out -for London. - - - -XVI - -During the twenty years of her married life, Valentine had experienced -but one real sorrow; and this was one which, in the course of nature, -must happen sooner or later. - -In 1859 her mother caught a violent cold during one of her frequent -journeys to Paris, and, in spite of every attention which money could -procure, she became worse, and died. - -The countess preserved her faculties to the last, and with her dying -breath said to her daughter: - -"Ah, well! was I not wise in prevailing upon you to bury the past? -Your silence has made my old age peaceful and happy, and I now thank -you for having done your duty to yourself and to me. You will be -rewarded on earth and in heaven, my dear daughter." - -Mme. Fauvel constantly said that, since the loss of her mother, she -had never had cause to shed a tear. - -And what more could she wish for? As years rolled on, Andre's love -remained steadfast; he was as devoted a husband as the most exacting -woman could wish. To his great love was added that sweet intimacy -which results from long conformity of ideas and unbounded confidence. - -Everything prospered with this happy couple. Andre was twice as -wealthy as he had ever hoped to be even in his wildest visions; every -wish of Valentine was anticipated by Andre; their two sons, Lucien and -Abel, were handsome, intelligent young men, whose honorable characters -and graceful bearing reflected credit upon their parents, who had so -carefully watched over their education. - -Nothing seemed wanting to insure Valentine's felicity. When her -husband and sons were at their business, her solitude was cheered by -the intelligent, affectionate companionship of a young girl whom she -loved as her own daughter, and who in return filled the place of a -devoted child. - -Madeleine was M. Fauvel's niece, and when an infant had lost both -parents, who were poor but very worthy people. Valentine begged to -adopt the babe, thinking she could thus, in a measure, atone for the -desertion of the poor little creature whom she had abandoned to -strangers. - -She hoped that this good work would bring down the blessings of God -upon her. - -The day of the little orphan's arrival, M. Fauvel invested for her ten -thousand francs, which he presented to Madeleine as her dowry. - -The banker amused himself by increasing this ten thousand francs in -the most marvellous ways. He, who never ventured upon a rash -speculation with his own money, always invested it in the most -hazardous schemes, and was always so successful, that at the end of -fifteen years the ten thousand francs had become half a million. - -People were right when they said that the Fauvel family were to be -envied. - -Time had dulled the remorse and anxiety of Valentine. In the genial -atmosphere of a happy home, she had found rest, and almost -forgetfulness. She had suffered so much at being compelled to deceive -Andre that she hoped she was now at quits with fate. - -She began to look forward to the future, and her youth seemed buried -in an impenetrable mist, and was, as it were, the memory of a painful -dream. - -Yes, she believed herself saved, and her very feeling of security made -the impending danger more fearful in its shock. - -One rainy November day, her husband had gone to Provence on business. -She was sitting, gazing into the bright fire, and thankfully -meditating upon her present happiness, when the servant brought her a -letter, which had been left by a stranger, who refused to give his -name. - -Without the faintest presentiment of evil, she carelessly broke the -seal, and in an instant was almost petrified by the words which met -her terrified eye: - - - "MADAME--Would it be relying too much upon the memories of the past - to hope for half an hour of your time? - - "To-morrow, between two and three, I will do myself the honor of - calling upon you. - -"THE MARQUIS OF CLAMERAN." - - -Fortunately, Mme. Fauvel was alone. - -Trembling like a leaf, she read the letter over and over again, as if -to convince herself that she was not the victim of a horrible -hallucination. - -Half a dozen times, with a sort of terror, she whispered that name -once so dear--Clameran! spelling it aloud as if it were a strange name -which she could not pronounce. And the eight letters forming the name -seemed to shine like the lightning which precedes a clap of thunder. - -Ah! she had hoped and believed that the fatal past was atoned for, and -buried in oblivion; and now it stood before her, pitiless and -threatening. - -Poor woman! As if all human will could prevent what was fated to be! - -It was in this hour of security, when she imagined herself pardoned, -that the storm was to burst upon the fragile edifice of her happiness, -and destroy her every hope. - -A long time passed before she could collect her scattered thoughts -sufficiently to decide upon a course of conduct. - -Then she began to think she was foolish to be so frightened. This -letter was written by Gaston, of course; therefore she need feel no -apprehension. Gaston had returned to France, and wished to see her. -She could understand this desire, and she knew too well this man, upon -whom she had lavished her young affection, to attribute any bad -motives to his visit. - -He would come; and finding her the wife of another, the mother of -grown sons, they would exchange thoughts of the past, perhaps a few -regrets; she would restore the jewels which she had faithfully kept -for him; he would assure her of his lifelong friendship, and--that -would be all. - -But one distressing doubt beset her agitated mind. Should she conceal -from Gaston the birth of his son? - -To confess was to expose herself to many dangers. It was placing -herself at the mercy of a man--a loyal, honorable man to be sure-- -confiding to him not only her own peace, honor, and happiness, but the -honor and happiness of her family, of her noble husband and loving -sons. - -Still silence would be a crime. She had abandoned her child, denied -him the cares and affection of a mother; and now should she add to her -sin by depriving him of the name and fortune of his father? - -She was still undecided when the servant announced dinner. - -But she had not the courage to meet the glance of her sons. She sent -word that she was not well, and would not be down to dinner. For the -first time in her life she rejoiced at her husband's absence. - -Madeleine came hurrying into her aunt's room to see what was the -matter; but Valentine dismissed her, saying she would try to sleep off -her indisposition. - -She wished to be alone in her trouble, and see if she could decide -upon some plan for warding off this impending ruin. - -The dreaded morrow came. - -She counted the hours until two o'clock. After that, she counted the -minutes. - -At half-past two the servant announced: - -"M. the Marquis of Clameran." - -Mme. Fauvel had promised herself to be calm, even cold. During a long, -sleepless night, she had mentally arranged beforehand every detail of -this painful meeting. She had even decided upon what she should say. -She would reply this, and ask that; her words were all selected, and -her speech ready. - -But, at the dreaded moment, her strength gave way; she turned as cold -as marble, and could not rise from her seat; she was speechless, and, -with a frightened look, silently gazed upon the man who respectfully -bowed, and stood in the middle of the room. - -Her visitor was about fifty years of age, with iron-gray hair and -mustache, and a cold, severe cast of countenance; his expression was -one of haughty severity as he stood there in his full suit of black. - -The agitated woman tried to discover in his face some traces of the -man whom she had so madly loved, who had pressed her to his heart, and -besought her to remain faithful until he should return from a foreign -land, and lay his fortune at her feet--the father of her son. - -She was surprised to discover no resemblance to the youth whose memory -had haunted her life; no, never would she have recognized this -stranger as Gaston. - -As he continued to stand motionless before her, she faintly murmured: - -"Gaston!" - -He sadly shook his head, and replied: - -"I am not Gaston, madame. My brother succumbed to the misery and -suffering of exile: I am Louis de Clameran." - -What! it was not Gaston, then, who had written to her; it was not -Gaston who stood before her! - -She trembled with terror; her head whirled, and her eyes grew dim. - -It was not he! And she had committed herself, betrayed her secret by -calling him "Gaston." - -What could this man want?--this brother in whom Gaston had never -confided? What did he know of the past? - -A thousand probabilities, each one more terrible than the other, -flashed across her brain. - -Yet she succeeded in overcoming her weakness so that Louis scarcely -perceived it. - -The fearful strangeness of her situation, the very imminence of peril, -inspired her with coolness and self-possession. - -Haughtily pointing to a chair, she said to Louis with affected -indifference: - -"Will you be kind enough, monsieur, to explain the object of this -unexpected visit?" - -The marquis, seeming not to notice this sudden change of manner, took -a seat without removing his eyes from Mme. Fauvel's face. - -"First of all, madame," he began, "I must ask if we can be overheard -by anyone?" - -"Why this question? You can have nothing to say to me that my husband -and children should not hear." - -Louis shrugged his shoulders, and said: - -"Be good enough to answer me, madame; not for my sake, but for your -own." - -"Speak, then, monsieur; you will not be heard." - -In spite of this assurance, the marquis drew his chair close to the -sofa where Mme. Fauvel sat, so as to speak in a very low tone, as if -almost afraid to hear his own voice. - -"As I told you, madame, Gaston is dead; and it was I who closed his -eyes, and received his last wishes. Do you understand?" - -The poor woman understood only too well, but was racking her brain to -discover what could be the purpose of this fatal visit. Perhaps it was -only to claim Gaston's jewels. - -"It is unnecessary to recall," continued Louis, "the painful -circumstances which blasted my brother's life. However happy your own -lot has been, you must sometimes have thought of this friend of your -youth, who unhesitatingly sacrificed himself in defence of your -honor." - -Not a muscle of Mme. Fauvel's face moved; she appeared to be trying to -recall the circumstances to which Louis alluded. - -"Have you forgotten, madame?" he asked with bitterness: "then I must -explain more clearly. A long, long time ago you loved my unfortunate -brother." - -"Monsieur!" - -"Ah, it is useless to deny it, madame: I told you that Gaston confided -everything to me--everything," he added significantly. - -But Mme. Fauvel was not frightened by this information. This -"everything" could not be of any importance, for Gaston had gone -abroad in total ignorance of her secret. - -She rose, and said with an apparent assurance she was far from -feeling: - -"You forget, monsieur, that you are speaking to a woman who is now -advanced in life, who is married, and who has grown sons. If your -brother loved me, it was his affair, and not yours. If, young and -ignorant, I was led into imprudence, it is not your place to remind me -of it. This past which you evoke I buried in oblivion twenty years -ago." - -"Thus you have forgotten all that happened?" - -"Absolutely all; everything." - -"Even your child, madame?" - -This question, uttered in a sneer of triumph, fell upon Mme. Fauvel -like a thunder-clap. She dropped tremblingly into her seat, murmuring: - -"My God! How did he discover it?" - -Had her own happiness alone been at stake, she would have instantly -thrown herself upon a Clameran's mercy. But she had her family to -defend, and the consciousness of this gave her strength to resist him. - -"Do you wish to insult me, monsieur?" she asked. - -"Do you pretend to say you have forgotten Valentin-Raoul?" - -She saw that this man did indeed know all. How? It little mattered. He -certainly knew; but she determined to deny everything, even the most -positive proofs, if he should produce them. - -For an instant she had an idea of ordering the Marquis of Clameran to -leave the house; but prudence stayed her. She thought it best to -discover how much he really knew. - -"Well," she said with a forced laugh, "will you be kind enough to -state what you wish with me?" - -"Certainly, madame. Two years ago the vicissitudes of exile took my -brother to London. There, at the house of a friend, he met a young man -by the name of Raoul. Gaston was so struck by the youth's appearance -and intelligence, that he inquired who he was, and discovered that -beyond a doubt this boy was his son, and your son, madame." - -"This is quite a romance you are relating." - -"Yes, madame, a romance the denouement of which is in your hands. Your -mother certainly used every precaution to conceal your secret; but the -best-laid plans always have some weak point. After your marriage, one -of your mother's London friends came to Tarascon, and spread the -report of what had taken place at the English village. This lady also -revealed your true name to the nurse who was bringing up the child. -Thus everything was discovered by my brother, who had no difficulty in -obtaining the most positive proofs of the boy's parentage." - -Louis closely watched Mme. Fauvel's face to see the effect of his -words. - -To his astonishment she betrayed not the slightest agitation or alarm; -she was smiling as if entertained by the recital of his romance. - -"Well, what next?" she asked carelessly. - -"Then, madame, Gaston acknowledged the child. But the Clamerans are -poor; my brother died on a pallet in a lodging-house; and I have only -an income of twelve hundred francs to live upon. What is to become of -Raoul, alone with no relations or friends to assist him? My brother's -last moments were embittered by anxiety for the welfare of his child." - -"Really, monsieur----" - -"Allow me to finish," interrupted Louis. "In that supreme hour Gaston -opened his heart to me. He told me to apply to you. 'Valentine,' said -he, 'Valentine will remember the past, and will not let our son want -for anything; she is wealthy, she is just and generous; I die with my -mind at rest.'" - -Mme. Fauvel rose from her seat, and stood, evidently waiting for her -visitor to retire. - -"You must confess, monsieur," she said, "that I have shown great -patience." - -This imperturbable assurance amazed Louis. - -"I do not deny," she continued, "that I at one time possessed the -confidence of M. Gaston de Clameran. I will prove it by restoring to -you your mother's jewels, with which he intrusted me on his -departure." - -While speaking she took from beneath the sofa-cushion the purse of -jewels, and handed it to Louis. - -"These jewels would have been given to the owner the instant they were -called for, monsieur, and I am surprised that your brother never -reclaimed them." - -Louis betrayed his astonishment at the sight of the jewels. He tried -to cover his embarrassment by boldly saying: - -"I was told not to mention this sacred trust." - -Mme. Fauvel, without making any reply, laid her hand on the bell-rope -and quietly said: - -"You will allow me to end this interview, monsieur, which was only -granted for the purpose of placing in your hands these precious -jewels." - -Thus dismissed, M. de Clameran was obliged to take his leave without -attaining his object. - -"As you will, madame," he said, "I leave you; but before doing so I -must tell you the rest of my brother's dying injunctions: 'If -Valentine disregards the past, and refuses to provide for our son, I -enjoin it upon you to compel her to do her duty.' Meditate upon these -words, madame, for what I have sworn to do, upon my honor, shall be -done!" - -At last Mme. Fauvel was alone. She could give vent to her despair. - -Exhausted at her efforts at self-restraint during the presence of -Clameran, she felt weary and crushed in body and spirit. - -She had scarcely strength to drag herself up to her chamber, and lock -the door. - -Now there was no room for doubt; her fears had become realities. She -could fathom the abyss into which she was about to be hurled, and knew -that in her fall she would drag her family with her. - -God alone, in this hour of danger, could help her, could save her from -destruction. She prayed. - -"Oh, my God!" she cried, "punish me for my great sin, and I will -evermore adore thy chastising hand! I have been a bad daughter, an -unworthy mother, and a perfidious wife. Smite me, oh, God, and only -me! In thy just anger spare the innocent, have pity upon my husband -and my children!" - -What were her twenty years of happiness compared to this hour of -misery? A bitter remorse; nothing more. Ah, why did she listen to her -mother? Why had she committed moral suicide? - -Hope had fled; despair had come. - -This man who had left her presence with a threat upon his lips would -return to torture her now. How could she escape him? - -To-day she had succeeded in subduing her heart and conscience; would -she again have the strength to master her feelings? - -She well knew that her calmness and courage were entirely due to the -inaptness of Clameran. - -Why did he not use entreaties instead of threats? - -When Louis spoke of Raoul, she could scarcely conceal her emotion; her -maternal heart yearned toward the innocent child who was expiating his -mother's faults. - -A chill of horror passed over her at the idea of his enduring the -pangs of hunger. - -Her child wanting bread, when she, his mother, was rolling in wealth! - -Ah, why could she not lay all her possessions at his feet? With what -delight would she undergo the greatest privations for his sake! If she -could but send him enough money to support him comfortably! - -But no; she could not take this step without compromising herself and -her family. - -Prudence forbade her acceptance of the intervention of Louis de -Clameran. - -To confide in him, was placing herself, and all she held dear, at his -mercy--at the mercy of a man who inspired her with instinctive terror. - -Then she began to ask herself if he had spoken the truth, or had -trumped up this story to frighten her? - -In thinking over Louis's story, it seemed improbable and disconnected. - -If Gaston had been living in Paris, in the poverty described by his -brother, why had he not demanded of the married woman the deposit -intrusted to the maiden? - -Why, when anxious about the future of their child, had he not come to -her, if he had such confidence in her generosity? If he intrusted her -on his death-bed, why had he not shown this trust while living? - -A thousand vague apprehensions beset her mind; she felt suspicion and -distrust of everyone and everything. - -She was aware that the time had come for her to take a decisive step, -and upon this step depended her whole future peace and happiness. If -she once yielded, what would not be exacted of her in the future? She -would certainly be made to suffer if she refused to yield. If she had -only some wise friend to advise her! - -For a moment she thought of throwing herself at her husband's feet and -confessing all. - -Unfortunately, she thrust aside this means of salvation. She pictured -to herself the mortification and sorrow that her noble-hearted husband -would suffer upon discovering, after a lapse of twenty years, how -shamefully he had been deceived, how his confidence and love had been -betrayed. - -Having been once deceived, would he ever trust her again? Would he -believe in her fidelity as a wife, when he discovered that she had -uttered her marriage vows to love and honor him, when her heart was -already given to another? - -She knew Andre was too magnanimous to ever allude to her horrible -fault, and would use every means to conceal it. But his domestic -happiness would be gone forever. His chair at the fireside would be -left empty; his sons would shun her presence, and every family bond -would be severed. - -Then again, would peace be preserved by her silence? Would not -Clameran end by betraying her to Andre? - -She thought of ending her doubts by suicide; but her death would not -silence her implacable enemy, who, not being able to disgrace her -while alive, would dishonor her memory. - -Fortunately, the banker was still absent; and, during the two days -succeeding Louis's visit, Mme. Fauvel could keep her room under -pretence of sickness. - -But Madeleine, with her feminine instinct, saw that her aunt was -troubled by something worse than nervous headache, for which the -physician was prescribing all sorts of remedies, with no beneficial -effect. - -She remembered that this sudden illness dated from the visit of the -melancholy looking stranger, who had been closeted for a long time -with her aunt. - -Madeleine supposed something was weighing upon the miserable woman's -mind, and the second day of her sickness ventured to say: - -"What makes you so sad, dear aunt? If you will not tell me, do let me -bring our good cure to see you." - -With a sharpness foreign to her nature, which was gentleness itself, -Mme. Fauvel refused to assent to her niece's proposition. - -What Louis calculated upon happened. - -After long reflection, not seeing any issue to her deplorable -situation, Mme. Fauvel determined to yield. - -By consenting to everything demanded of her, she had a chance of -saving her husband from suffering and disgrace. - -She well knew that to act thus was to prepare a life of torture for -herself; but she alone would be the victim, and, at any rate, she -would be gaining time. Heaven might at last interpose, and save her -from ruin. - -In the meantime, M. Fauvel had returned home, and Valentine resumed -her accustomed duties. - -But she was no longer the happy mother and devoted wife, whose smiling -presence was wont to fill the house with sunshine and comfort. She was -melancholy, anxious, and at times irritable. - -Hearing nothing of Clameran, she expected to see him appear at any -moment; trembling at every knock, and turning pale when a strange step -was heard to enter, she dared not leave the house, for fear he should -come during her absence. - -Her agony was like that of a condemned man, who, each day as he wakes -from his uneasy slumber, asks himself, "Am I to die to-day?" - -Clameran did not come; he wrote, or rather, as he was too prudent to -furnish arms which could be used against him, he had a note written, -which Mme. Fauvel alone might understand, in which he said that he was -quite ill, and unable to call upon her; and hoped she would be so good -as to come to his room the next day; she had only to ask for 317, -Hotel du Louvre. - -The letter was almost a relief for Mme. Fauvel. Anything was -preferable to suspense. She was ready to consent to everything. - -She burned the letter, and said, "I shall go." - -The next day at the appointed hour, she dressed herself in a plain -black silk, a large bonnet which concealed her face, and, putting a -thick veil in her pocket to be used if she found it necessary, started -forth. - -After hurriedly walking several squares, she thought she might, -without fear of being recognized, call a coach. In a few minutes she -was set down at the Hotel du Louvre. Here her uneasiness increased. -Her circle of acquaintances being large, she was in terror of being -recognized. What would her friends think if they saw her at the Hotel -du Louvre disguised in this old dress? - -Anyone would naturally suspect an intrigue, a rendezvous; and her -character would be ruined forever. - -This was the first time since her marriage that she had had occasion -for mystery; and her efforts to escape notice were in every way -calculated to attract attention. - -The porter said that the Marquis of Clameran's rooms were on the third -floor. - -She hurried up the stairs, glad to escape the scrutinizing glances of -several men standing near; but, in spite of the minute directions -given by the porter, she lost her way in one of the long corridors of -the hotel. - -Finally, after wandering about for some time, she found a door bearing -the number sought--317. - -She stood leaning against the wall with her hand pressed to her -throbbing heart, which seemed bursting. - -Now, at the moment of risking this decisive step, she felt paralyzed -with fright. She would have given all she possessed to find herself -safe in her own home. - -The sight of a stranger entering the corridor ended her hesitation. - -With a trembling hand she knocked at the door. - -"Come in," said a voice from within. - -She entered the room. - -It was not the Marquis of Clameran who stood in the middle of the -room, but a young man, almost a youth, who bowed to Mme. Fauvel with a -singular expression on his handsome face. - -Mme. Fauvel thought that she had mistaken the room. - -"Excuse me, monsieur," she said, blushing deeply. "I thought that this -was the Marquis of Clameran's room." - -"It is his room, madame," replied the young man; then, seeing she was -silent and about to leave, he added: - -"I presume I have the honor of addressing Mme. Fauvel?" - -She bowed affirmatively, shuddering at the sound of her own name, -frightened at this proof of Clameran's betrayal of her secret to a -stranger. - -With visible anxiety she awaited an explanation. - -"Reassure yourself, madame," said the young man: "you are as safe here -as if you were in your own house. M. de Clameran desired me to make -his excuses; he will not have the honor of seeing you to-day." - -"But, monsieur, from an urgent letter sent by him yesterday, I was led -to suppose--to infer--that he----" - -"When he wrote to you, madame, he had projects in view which he has -since renounced." - -Mme. Fauvel was too agitated and troubled to think clearly. Beyond the -present she could see nothing. - -"Do you mean," she asked with distrust, "that he has changed his -intentions?" - -The young man's face was expressive of sad compassion, as if he shared -the sufferings of the unhappy woman before him. - -"The marquis has renounced," he said, in a melancholy tone, "what he -wrongly considered a sacred duty. Believe me, he hesitated a long time -before he could decide to apply to you on a subject painful to you -both. When he began to explain his apparent intrusion upon your -private affairs, you refused to hear him, and dismissed him with -indignant contempt. He knew not what imperious reasons dictated your -conduct. Blinded by unjust anger, he swore to obtain by threats what -you refused to give voluntarily. Resolved to attack your domestic -happiness, he had collected overwhelming proofs against you. Pardon -him: an oath given to his dying brother bound him. - -"These convincing proofs," he continued, as he tapped his finger on a -bundle of papers which he had taken from the mantel, "this evidence -that cannot be denied, I now hold in my hand. This is the certificate -of the Rev. Dr. Sedley; this is the declaration of Mrs. Dobbin, the -farmer's wife; and these others are the statements of the physician -and of several persons of high social position who were acquainted -with Mme. de la Verberie during her stay in London. Not a single link -is missing. I had great difficulty in getting these papers away from -M. de Clameran. Had he anticipated my intention of thus disposing of -them, they would never have been surrendered to my keeping." - -As he finished speaking, the young man threw the bundle of papers into -the fire where they blazed up; and in a moment nothing remained of -them but a little heap of ashes. - -"All is now destroyed, madame," he said, with a satisfied air. "The -past, if you desire it, is as completely annihilated as those papers. -If anyone, thereafter, dares accuse you of having had a son before -your marriage, treat him as a vile calumniator. No proof against you -can be produced; none exists. You are free." - -Mme. Fauvel began to understand the sense of this scene; the truth -dawned upon her bewildered mind. - -This noble youth, who protected her from the anger of De Clameran, who -restored her peace of mind and the exercise of her own free will, by -destroying all proofs of her past, was, must be, the child whom she -had abandoned: Valentin-Raoul. - -In an instant, all was forgotten save the present. Maternal -tenderness, so long restrained, now welled up and overflowed as with -intense emotion she murmured: - -"Raoul!" - -At this name, uttered in so thrilling a tone, the youth started and -tottered, as if overcome by an unhoped-for happiness. - -"Yes, Raoul," he cried, "Raoul, who would a thousand times rather die -than cause his mother a moment's pain; Raoul, who would shed his -life's blood to spare her one tear." - -She made no attempt to struggle against nature's yearnings; her -longing to clasp to her heart this long-pined-for first-born must be -gratified at all costs. - -She opened her arms, and Raoul sprang forward with a cry of joy: - -"Mother! my blessed mother! Thanks be to God for this first kiss!" - -Alas! this was the sad truth. The deserted child had never been blest -by a mother's kiss. This dear son whom she had never seen before, had -been taken from her, despite her prayers and tears, without a mother's -blessing, a mother's embrace. After twenty years waiting, should it be -denied him now? - -But joy so great, following upon so many contending emotions, was more -than the excited mother could bear; she sank back in her chair almost -fainting, and with distended eyes gazed in a bewildered, eager way -upon her long-lost son, who was now kneeling at her feet. - -With tenderness she stroked the soft chestnut curls, and drank in the -tenderness of his soft dark eyes, and expressive mouth, as he murmured -words of filial affection in her craving ear. - -"Oh, mother!" he said, "words cannot describe my feelings of pain and -anguish upon hearing that my uncle had dared to threaten you. He -threaten you! He repents already of his cruelty; he did not know you -as I do. Yes, my mother, I have known you for a long, long time. Often -have my father and I hovered around your happy home to catch a glimpse -of you through the window. When you passed by in your carriage, he -would say to me, 'There is your mother, Raoul!' To look upon you was -our greatest joy. When we knew you were going to a ball, we would wait -near the door to see you enter, in your satin and diamonds. How often -have I followed your fast horses to see you descend from the carriage -and enter wealthy doors, which I could never hope to penetrate! And -how my noble father loved you always! When he told his brother to -apply to you in my behalf, he was unconscious of what he said; his -mind was wandering." - -Tears, the sweetest tears she had ever shed, coursed down Mme. -Fauvel's cheeks, as she listened to the musical tones of Raoul's -voice. - -This voice was so like Gaston's, that she seemed once more to be -listening to the lover of her almost forgotten youth. - -She was living over again those stolen meetings, those long hours of -bliss, when Gaston was at her side, as they sat and watched the river -rippling beneath the trees. - -It seemed only yesterday that Gaston had pressed her to his faithful -heart; she saw him still saying gently: - -"In three years, Valentine! Wait for me!" - -Andre, her two sons, Madeleine, all were forgotten in this new-found -affection. - -Raoul continued in tender tones: - -"Only yesterday I discovered that my uncle had been to demand for me a -few crumbs of your wealth. Why did he take such a step? I am poor, it -is true, very poor; but I am too familiar with poverty to bemoan it. I -have a clear brain and willing hands: that is fortune enough for a -young man. You are very rich. What is that to me? Keep all your -fortune, my beloved mother; but do not repel my affection; let me love -you. Promise me that this first kiss shall not be the last. No one -will ever know of my new-found happiness; not by word or deed will I -do aught to let the world suspect that I possess this great joy." - -And Mme. Fauvel had dreaded this son! Ah, how bitterly did she now -reproach herself for not having flown to meet him the instant she -heard that he was living! - -She questioned him regarding the past; she wished to know how he had -lived, what he had been doing. - -He replied that he had nothing to conceal; his existence had been that -of every poor boy, who had nothing to look forward to but a life of -labor and privation. - -The farmer's wife who had brought him up was a kind-hearted woman, and -had always treated him with affection. She had even given him an -education superior to his condition in life, because, as she always -said, he would make himself a great name, and attain to wealth, if he -were taught. - -When about sixteen years of age, she procured him a situation in a -banking-house; and he was getting a salary, which, though small, was -enough to support him and supply a few luxuries for his adopted -mother. - -One day a stranger came to him and said: - -"I am your father: come with me." - -Since then nothing was wanting to his happiness, save a mother's -tenderness. He had suffered but one great sorrow, and that was the day -when Gaston de Clameran, his father, had died in his arms. - -"But now," he said, "all is forgotten, that one sorrow is forgotten in -my present happiness. Now that I see you and possess your love, I -forget the past, and ask for nothing more." - -Mme. Fauvel was oblivious of the lapse of time, and was startled when -Raoul exclaimed: - -"Why, it is seven o'clock!" - -Seven o'clock! What would her family think of this long absence? Her -husband must be even now awaiting dinner. - -"Shall I see you again, mother?" asked Raoul in a beseeching tone, as -they were about to separate. - -"Oh, yes!" she replied, fondly, "yes, often; every day, to-morrow." - -But now, for the first time since her marriage, Mme. Fauvel perceived -that she was not mistress of her actions. Never before had she had -occasion to wish for uncontrolled liberty. - -She left her heart and soul behind her in the Hotel du Louvre, where -she had just found her son. She was compelled to leave him, to undergo -the intolerable agony of composing her face to conceal this great -happiness, which had changed her whole life and being. She was angry -with fate because she could not remain with her first-born son. - -Having some difficulty in procuring a carriage, it was half-past seven -before she reached the Rue de Provence, when she found the family -waiting for her. - -She thought her husband silly, and even vulgar, when he joked her upon -letting her poor children starve to death, while she was promenading -the boulevards. - -So strange are the sudden effects of a new passion, that she regarded -almost with contempt this unbounded confidence reposed in her. - -She replied to his jest with a forced calmness, as if her mind were -really as free and undisturbed as it had been before Clameran's visit. - -So intoxicated had been her sensations while with Raoul, that in her -joy she was incapable of desiring anything else, of dreaming of aught -save the renewal of these delightful emotions. - -No longer was she a devoted wife, an affectionate mother to this -household which looked up to her as though she were a superior being. -She took no interest in the two sons who were a short while since her -chief pride and joy. They had always been petted and indulged in every -way; they had a father, they were rich; whist the other, the other! -oh, how much reparation was due to him! - -She almost regarded her family as responsible for Raoul's sufferings, -so blinded was she in her devotion to her martyr, as she called him. - -Her folly was complete. No remorse for the past, no apprehensions for -the future, disturbed the satisfied present. To her the future was -to-morrow; eternity was the sixteen hours which must elapse before -another interview. - -She seemed to think that Gaston's death absolved the past, and changed -the present. - -Her sole regret was her marriage. Free, with no family ties, she could -have consecrated herself exclusively to Raoul. How gladly would she -have sacrificed her affluence to enjoy poverty with him! - -She felt no fear that her husband and sons would suspect the thoughts -which absorbed her mind; but she dreaded her niece. - -She imagined that Madeleine looked at her strangely on her return from -the Hotel du Louvre. She must suspect something; but did she suspect -the truth? - -For several days she asked embarrassing questions, as to where her -aunt went, and with whom she had been during these long absences from -home. - -This disquietude and seeming curiosity changed the affection which -Mme. Fauvel had hitherto felt for her adopted daughter into positive -dislike. - -She regretted having placed over herself a vigilant spy from whom she -could not escape. She pondered what means she could take to avoid the -penetrating watchfulness of a girl who was accustomed to read in her -face every thought that crossed her mind. - -With unspeakable satisfaction she solved the difficulty in a way which -she thought would please all parties. - -During the last two years the banker's cashier and /protege/, Prosper -Bertomy, had been devoted in his attentions to Madeleine. Mme. Fauvel -decided to do all in her power to hasten matters, so that, Madeleine -once married and out of the house, there would be no one to criticise -her own movements. She could then spend most of her time with Raoul -without fear of detection. - -That evening, with a duplicity of which she would have been incapable -a few weeks before, she began to question Madeleine about her -sentiments toward Prosper: - -"Ah, ha, mademoiselle," she said, gayly, "I have discovered your -secret. You are going on at a pretty rate! The idea of your choosing a -husband without my permission!" - -"Why, aunt! I thought you----" - -"Yes, I know; you thought I had suspected the true state of affairs! -That is precisely what I have done." - -Then, in a serious tone, she said: - -"Therefore nothing remains to be done except to obtain the consent of -Master Prosper. Do you think he will grant it?" - -"Oh, Aunt Valentine! he would be too happy." - -"Ah, indeed! you seem to know all about it; perhaps you do not care -for any assistance in carrying out your wishes?" - -Madeleine, blushing and confused, hung her head, and said nothing. -Mme. Fauvel drew her toward her, and continued affectionately: - -"My dear child, do not be distressed: you have done nothing wrong, and -need fear no opposition to your wishes. Is it possible that a person -of your penetration supposed us to be in ignorance of your secret? Did -you think that Prosper would have been so warmly welcomed by your -uncle and myself, had we not approved of him in every respect?" - -Madeleine threw her arms around her aunt's neck, and said: - -"Oh, my dear aunt, you make me so happy! I am very grateful for your -love and kindness. I am very glad that you are pleased with my -choice." - -Mme. Fauvel said to herself: - -"I will make Andre speak to Prosper, and before two months are over -the marriage must take place. Madeleine once married, I shall have -nothing to fear." - -Unfortunately, Mme. Fauvel was so engrossed by her new passion that -she put off from day to day her project of hastening the marriage, -until it was too late. Spending a portion of each day at the Hotel du -Louvre with Raoul, and, when separated from him, devoting her thoughts -to insuring him an independent fortune and a good position, she could -think of nothing else. - -She had not yet spoken to him of money or business. - -She imagined that she had discovered in him his father's noble -qualities; that the sensitiveness which is so easily wounded was -expressed in his every word and action. - -She anxiously wondered if he would ever accept the least assistance -from her. The Marquis of Clameran quieted her doubts on this point. - -She had frequently met him since the day on which he had so frightened -her, and to her first aversion had succeeded a secret sympathy. She -felt kindly toward him for the affection he lavished on her son. - -If Raoul, with the heedlessness of youth, mocked at the future, Louis, -the man of the world, looked upon it with different eyes. He was -anxious for the welfare of his nephew, and constantly complained of -the idle life he was now leading. - -One day, after praising the attractive qualities of Raoul, he said: - -"This pleasant life is very well, as long as it lasts; but people -cannot live upon air, and, as my handsome nephew has no fortune, it -would be only prudent for us to procure him some employment." - -"Ah, my dear uncle, do let me enjoy my present happiness. What is the -use of any change? What do I want?" - -"You want for nothing at present, Raoul; but when your resources are -exhausted, and mine, too--which will be in a short time--what will -become of you?" - -"/Bast!/ I will enter the army. All the Clamerans are born soldiers; -and if a war comes----" - -Mme. Fauvel laid her hand upon his lips, and said in a tone of -reproachful tenderness: - -"Cruel boy, become a soldier? would you, then, deprive me of the joy -of seeing you?" - -"No, my mother; no." - -"You must agree to whatever plans we make for your good," said Louis; -"and not be talking of any wild schemes of your own." - -"I am ready to obey; but not yet. One of these days I will go to work, -and make a fortune." - -"How, poor, foolish boy? What can you do?" - -"/Dame!/ I don't know now; but set your mind at rest, I will find a -way." - -Finding it impossible to make this self-sufficient youth listen to -reason, Louis and Mme. Fauvel, after discussing the matter fully, -decided that assistance must be forced upon him, and his path in life -marked out for him. - -It was difficult, however, to choose a profession; and Clameran -thought it prudent to wait awhile, and study the bent of the young -man's mind. In the meanwhile it was decided that Mme. Fauvel should -place funds at Clameran's disposal for Raoul's support. - -Regarding Gaston's brother in the light of a father to her child, Mme. -Fauvel soon found him indispensable. She continually longed to see -him, either to consult him concerning some step to be taken for -Raoul's benefit, or to impress upon him some good advice to be given. - -Thus she was well pleased, when one day he requested the honor of -being allowed to call upon her at her own house. - -Nothing was easier than to introduce the Marquis of Clameran to her -husband as an old friend of her family; and, after once being -admitted, he might come as often as he chose. - -Mme. Fauvel congratulated herself upon this arrangement. - -Afraid to go to Raoul every day, and in constant terror lest her -letters to him should be discovered, and his replies fall into her -husband's hands, she was delighted at the prospect of having news of -him from Clameran. - -For a month, things went on very smoothly, when one day the marquis -confessed that Raoul was giving him a great deal of trouble. His -hesitating, embarrassed manner frightened Mme. Fauvel. She thought -something dreadful had happened, and that he was trying to break the -bad news gently. - -"What is the matter?" she said, turning pale. - -"I am sorry to say," replied Clameran, "that this young man has -inherited all the pride and passions of his ancestors. He is one of -those natures who stop at nothing, who only find incitement in -opposition; and I can think of no way of checking him in his mad -career." - -"Merciful Heaven! what has he been doing?" - -"Nothing especially censurable; that is, nothing irreparable, thus -far; but I am afraid of the future. He is unaware of the liberal -allowance which you have placed in my hands for his benefit; and, -although he thinks that I support him, there is not a single -indulgence which he denies himself; he throws away money as if he were -the son of a millionaire." - -Like all mothers, Mme. Fauvel attempted to excuse her son. - -"Perhaps you are a little severe," she said. "Poor child, he has -suffered so much! He has undergone so many privations during his -childhood, that this sudden happiness and wealth has turned his head; -he seizes it as a starving man seizes a piece of bread. Is it -surprising that he should refuse to listen to reason until hungry -nature shall have been gratified? Ah, only have patience, and he will -soon return to the path of sober duty. He has too noble a heart to do -anything really wrong." - -"He has suffered so much!" was Mme. Fauvel's constant excuse for -Raoul. This was her invariable reply to M. de Clameran's complaints of -his nephew's conduct. - -And, having once commenced, he was now constant in his accusations -against Raoul. - -"Nothing restrains his extravagance and dissipation," Louis would say -in a mournful voice; "the instant a piece of folly enters his head, it -is carried out, no matter at what cost." - -Mme. Fauvel saw no reason why her son should be thus harshly judged. - -"You must remember," she said in an aggrieved tone, "that from infancy -he has been left to his own unguided impulses. The unfortunate boy -never had a mother to tend and counsel him. You must remember, too, -that he has never known a father's guidance." - -"There is some excuse for him, to be sure; but nevertheless he must -change his present course. Could you not speak seriously to him, -madame? You have more influence over him than I." - -She promised, but forgot her good resolution when with Raoul. She had -so little time to devote to him, that it seemed cruel to spend it in -reprimands. Sometimes she would hurry from home for the purpose of -following the marquis's advice; but, the instant she saw Raoul, her -courage failed; a pleading look from his soft, dark eyes silenced the -rebuke upon her lips; the sound of his voice banished every anxious -thought, and lulled her mind to the present happiness. - -But Clameran was not a man to lose sight of the main object, in what -he considered a sentimental wasting of time. He would have no -compromise of duty. - -His brother had bequeathed to him, as a precious trust, his son Raoul; -he regarded himself, he said, as his guardian, and would be held -responsible in another world for his welfare. - -He entreated Mme. Fauvel to use her influence, when he found himself -powerless in trying to check the heedless youth in his headlong -career. She ought, for the sake of her child, to see more of him, -study his disposition, and daily admonish him in his duty to himself -and to her. - -"Alas," the poor woman replied, "that would be my heart's desire. But -how can I do it? Have I the right to ruin myself? I have other -children, for whom I must be careful of my reputation." - -This answer appeared to astonish Clameran. A fortnight before, Mme. -Fauvel would not have alluded to her other sons. - -"I will think the matter over," said Louis, "And perhaps when I see -you next I shall be able to submit to you a plan which will reconcile -everything." - -The reflections of a man of so much experience could not be fruitless. -He had a relieved, satisfied look, when he called to see Mme. Fauvel -on the following week. - -"I think I have solved the problem," he said. - -"What problem?" - -"The means of saving Raoul." - -He explained himself by saying, that as Mme. Fauvel could not, without -arousing her husband's suspicions, continue her daily visits to Raoul, -she must receive him at her own house. - -This proposition shocked Mme. Fauvel; for though she had been -imprudent, even culpable, she was the soul of honor, and naturally -shrank from the idea of introducing Raoul into the midst of her -family, and seeing him welcomed by her husband, and perhaps become the -friend of his sons. Her instinctive sense of justice made her declare -that she would never consent to such an infamous step. - -"Yes," said the marquis, thoughtfully, "there is some risk; but then, -it is the only chance of saving your child." - -She resisted with so much firmness and indignation that Louis was -astonished, and for a time nonplussed; though he by no means let the -subject drop, but seized every opportunity of impressing upon her -tortured mind that Raoul's salvation depended entirely upon her. - -"No," she would always reply, "no! Never will I be so base and -perfidious to my husband!" - -Unfortunate woman! little did she know of the pitfalls which stand -ever ready to swallow up wanderers from the path of virtue. - -Before a week had passed, she listened to this project, which at first -had filled her with horror, with a willing ear, and even began to -devise means for its speedy execution. - -Yes, after a cruel struggle, she finally yielded to the pressure of -Clameran's politely uttered threats and Raoul's wheedling entreaties. - -"But how," she asked, "upon what pretext can I receive Raoul?" - -"It would be the easiest thing in the world," replied Clameran, "to -admit him as an ordinary acquaintance, and, indeed, to place him on -the same footing which I myself occupy--that of an intimate friend and -habitue of your drawing-rooms. But Raoul must have more than this; he -needs your constant care." - -After torturing Mme. Fauvel for a long time, he finally revealed his -scheme. - -"We have in our hands," he said, "the solution of this problem, which -may be so easily reached that I regard it as an inspiration." - -Mme. Fauvel eagerly scanned his face as she listened with the pitiable -resignation of a martyr. - -"Have you not a cousin, a widow lady, who had two daughters, living at -St. Remy?" asked Louis. - -"Yes, Mme. de Lagors." - -"Precisely so. What fortune has she?" - -"She is poor, monsieur, very poor." - -"And, but for the assistance you render her secretly, she would be -thrown upon the charity of the world." - -Mme. Fauvel was bewildered at finding the marquis so well informed of -her private affairs. - -"How could you have discovered this?" she asked. - -"Oh, I know all about this affair, and many others besides. I know, -for example, that your husband has never met any of your relatives, -and that he is not even aware of the existence of your cousin De -Lagors. Do you begin to comprehend my plan?" - -She not only understood it, but also knew that she would end by being -a party to it. - -"All will succeed if you follow my instructions," said Louis. -"To-morrow or next day, you will receive a letter from your cousin at -St. Remy, telling you that she has sent her son to Paris on a visit, -and begs you to receive and watch over him. Naturally you show this -letter to your husband; and a few days afterward he warmly welcomes -your nephew, Raoul de Lagors, a handsome, rich, attractive young man, -who does everything he can to please you both." - -"Monsieur," replied Mme. Fauvel, "my cousin is a pious, honorable -woman, and nothing would induce her to countenance so shameful a -transaction." - -The marquis smiled scornfully, and said: - -"Who told you that I intended to confide in her?" - -"But you would be obliged to do so! How else?" - -"You are very simple, madame. The letter which you will receive, and -show to your husband, will be dictated by me, and posted at St. Remy -by a friend of mine. If I spoke of the obligations under which you -have placed your cousin, it was merely to show you that, in case of -accident, her own interest would make her serve you. Do you see any -obstacle to this plan, madame?" - -Mme. Fauvel's eyes flashed with indignation. - -"Is my will of no account?" she exclaimed. "You seem to have made your -arrangements without consulting me at all." - -"Excuse me," said the marquis, with ironical politeness, "but I knew -that you would take the same view of the matter as myself. Your good -sense would convince you of the necessity of using every possible -means of rescuing your child from destruction." - -"But it is a crime, monsieur, that you propose--an abominable crime! -My mind revolts at the very idea of it!" - -This speech seemed to arouse all the bad passions slumbering in -Clameran's bosom; and his pale face had a fiendish expression as he -fiercely replied: - -"We had better end this humbuggery, and come to a clear understanding -at once. Before you begin to talk about crime, think over your past -life. You were not so timid and scrupulous when you gave yourself up -to your lover; neither did you hesitate to faithlessly refuse to share -his exile, although for your sake he had just jeopardized his life by -killing two men. You felt no scruples at abandoning your child in -London; although rolling in wealth, you never even inquired if this -poor waif had bread to eat. You felt no scruples about marrying M. -Fauvel. Did you tell your confiding husband of the lines of shame -concealed beneath that orange wreath? Did you hesitate to confirm and -strengthen his happy delusion, that his lips had pressed the first -kiss upon your brow? No! All these crimes you indulged in; and, when -in Gaston's name I demand reparation, you indignantly refuse. But, -mark my words, madame, it is too late! You ruined the father; but you -shall save the son, or, by all the saints in heaven, I swear you shall -no longer cheat the world of its esteem." - -"I will obey you, monsieur," murmured the trembling, frightened woman. - -The following week Raoul, now Raoul de Lagors, was seated at the -banker's dinner-table, between Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine. - - - -XVII - -It was not without the most painful suffering and self-condemnation -that Mme. Fauvel submitted to the will of the pitiless Marquis of -Clameran. - -She had used every argument and entreaty to soften him; but he merely -looked upon her with a triumphant, sneering smile, when she knelt at -his feet, implored him to be merciful and spare her the shame and -remorse of committing another crime. Spare her this torture, and she -would grant anything else he wished, give Raoul all she possessed -while alive, and insure him a handsome competency after her death. - -Alas! neither tears nor prayers moved him. Disappointed, and almost -desperate, she sought the intercession of her son. - -Raoul was in a state of furious indignation at the sight of his -mother's distress, and hastened to demand an apology from Clameran. - -But he had reckoned without his host. He soon returned with downcast -eyes, and moodily angry at his own powerlessness, declaring that -safety demanded a complete surrender to the tyrant. - -Now only did the wretched woman fully fathom the abyss into which she -was being dragged, and clearly see the labyrinth of crime of which she -was becoming the victim. - -And all this suffering was the consequence of a fault, an interview -granted to Gaston. Ever since that fatal day she had been vainly -struggling against the implacable logic of events. Her life had been -spent in trying to overcome the past, and now it had risen to crush -her. - -The hardest thing of all to do, the act that most wrung her heart, was -showing to her husband the forged letter from St. Remy, and saying -that she expected to see her rich young nephew in a day or two. 'Tis -hard to deceive those who trust and love us. - -But words cannot paint the torture she endured on the evening that she -introduced Raoul to her family, and saw the honest banker cordially -shake hands with this nephew of whom he had never heard before, and -affectionately say to him: - -"I am not surprised that a rich young fellow like yourself should -prefer Paris to St. Remy, and nothing will give me more pleasure than -your visit; for I seldom have an opportunity of welcoming a relative -of my dear wife, for whose sake I take an interest in everyone coming -from St. Remy." - -Raoul exerted his utmost to deserve this warm reception. - -If his early education had been neglected, and he lacked those -delicate refinements of manner and conversation which home influence -imparts, his superior tact concealed these defects. - -He possessed the happy faculty of reading characters, and adapting his -conversation to the minds of his listeners. - -Before a week had gone by, he was a favorite with M. Fauvel, intimate -with Abel and Lucien, and inseparable from Prosper Bertomy, the -cashier, who spent all his evenings with the banker's family. - -Charmed at the favorable impression made by Raoul, Mme. Fauvel -recovered comparative ease of mind, and at times almost congratulated -herself upon having obeyed the marquis, as she saw all around her -contented and happy. Once more she began to hope that peace had not -deserted her, that God had forgiven her. - -Alas! she rejoiced too soon. - -Raoul's intimacy with his cousins threw him among a set of rich young -men, whose extravagance he not only imitated, but surpassed. He daily -grew more dissipated and reckless. Gambling, racing, expensive -suppers, made money slip through his fingers like grains of sand. - -This proud young man, whose sensitive delicacy not long since made him -refuse to accept aught save affection from his mother, now never -approached her without demanding large sums of money. - -At first she gave with pleasure, not stopping to count the rolls of -notes she would eagerly run to bring him. But as he each time -increased his demands, until they finally reached a sum far larger -than she could bestow, her eyes were opened to the ruinous effects of -her lavish generosity. - -This rich woman, whose magnificent diamonds, elegant toilets, and -superb equipages were the admiration and envy of Paris, now suffered -the keenest torture. She had no more money to give her son; and what -so pains the female heart as being unable to gratify the wishes of a -beloved being? - -Her husband never thought of giving her a fixed sum for the year's -expenses, or of asking how she disposed of her money. The day after -the wedding he gave her a key to his secretary, and told her, that -what was his was hers, to use as she thought best. And, ever since, -she had been in the habit of freely taking all the money necessary for -keeping up the hospitable, elegant house over which she so gracefully -presided; for her own dress, and many charitable purposes that the -world never knew of. - -But the fact of her having always been so modest in her personal -expenses that her husband used to jestingly say that he was afraid she -would end by being a miser; and her judicious, well-regulated -management of household expenditures, causing her to spend much the -same amount each year--prevented her now being able to dispose of -large sums, without giving rise to embarrassing questions. - -M. Fauvel, the most generous of millionaires, delighted to see his -wife indulge in any extravagance, no matter how foolish; but he would -naturally expect to see traces of the money spent, something to show -for it. - -The banker might suddenly discover that double the usual amount of -money was used in the house; and, if he should ask the cause of this -astonishing outlay, what answer could she give? - -In three months, Raoul had squandered a little fortune. In the first -place, he was obliged to have bachelor's apartments, prettily -furnished, and a handsome outfit from a fashionable tailor, besides -the thousand little things indispensable to a society man; he must -have a blooded horse and a coupe. His doting mother felt it her duty -to give him these luxuries, when her other sons were enjoying -everything of the sort, besides many other advantages of which her -poor Raoul was deprived. But each day the extravagance of his fancies -increased, and Mme. Fauvel began to be alarmed when his demands far -exceeded her ability to gratify them. - -When she would gently remonstrate, Raoul's beautiful eyes would fill -with tears, and in a sad, humble tone he would say: - -"Alas! you are right to refuse me this gratification. What claim have -I? I must not forget that I am only the poor son of Valentine, not the -rich banker's child!" - -This touching repentance wrung her heart, so that she always ended by -granting him more than he had asked for. The poor boy had suffered so -much that it was her duty to console him, and atone for her past -neglect. - -She soon discovered that he was jealous and envious of his two -brothers--for, after all, they were his brothers--Abel and Lucien. - -"You never refuse them anything," he would resentfully say: "they were -fortunate enough to enter life by the golden gate. Their every wish is -gratified; they enjoy wealth, position, home affection, and have a -splendid future awaiting them." - -"But what is lacking to your happiness, my son? Have you not -everything that money can give? and are you not first in my -affections?" asked his distressed mother. - -"What do I want? Apparently nothing, in reality everything. Do I -possess anything legitimately? What right have I to your affection, to -the comforts and luxuries you heap upon me, to the name I bear? Is not -my life an extortion, my very birth a fraud?" - -When Raoul talked in this strain, she would weep, and overwhelm him -with caresses and gifts, until she imagined that every jealous thought -was vanished from his mind. - -As spring approached, she told Raoul she designed him to spend the -summer in the country, near her villa at St. Germain. She wanted to -have him with her all the time, and this was the only way of -gratifying her wish. She was surprised to find her proposal readily -acquiesced in. In a few days he told her he had rented a little house -at Vesinet, and intended having his furniture moved into it. - -"Then, just think, dear mother, what a happy summer we will spend -together!" he said, with beaming eyes. - -She was delighted for many reasons, one of which was that the expenses -of the prodigal son would necessarily be lessened. Anxiety as to the -exhausted state of her finances made her bold enough to chide him at -the dinner-table one day for having lost two thousand francs at the -races that morning. - -"You are severe, my dear," said M. Fauvel with the carelessness of a -rich man, who considered this sum a mere trifle. "Mamma Lagors won't -object to footing his bills; mammas are created for the special -purpose of paying bills." - -And, not observing that his wife had turned pale at these jocular -words, he turned to Raoul, and added: - -"Don't disturb yourself about a small sum like this, my boy; when you -want money, come to me." - -What could Mme. Fauvel say? Had she not followed Clameran's orders, -and told her husband that Raoul was wealthy? She could not go now and -tell him that he would never recover any money which he lent to a -penniless spendthrift. - -Why had she been made to tell this unnecessary lie? - -She suspected the snare laid for her; but now it was too late to -escape it: struggles would only more deeply entangle her in its -meshes. - -The banker's offer was soon accepted. That same week Raoul went to his -uncle's bank, and boldly borrowed ten thousand francs. - -When Mme. Fauvel heard of this piece of audacity, she wrung her hands -in despair. - -"What can he want with so much money?" she moaned to herself: "what -wicked extravagance is it for?" For some time Clameran had kept away -from Mme. Fauvel's house. She decided to write and ask him to come and -advise her as to what steps should be taken to check Raoul. - -She hoped that this energetic, determined man, who was so fully awake -to his duties as a guardian and an uncle, would make Raoul listen to -reason, and instantly refund the borrowed money. - -When Clameran heard what his graceless nephew had done, his surprise -and anger were unbounded. He expressed so much indignation against -Raoul, that Mme. Fauvel was frightened at the storm she had raised, -and began to make excuses for her son. - -While they were discussing the matter, Raoul came in, and a violent -altercation ensued between him and Clameran. - -But the suspicions of Mme. Fauvel were aroused; she watched them, and -it seemed to her--could it be possible--that their anger was feigned; -that, although they abused and even threatened each other in the -bitterest language, their eyes twinkled with amusement. - -She dared not breathe her doubts; but, like a subtle poison which -disorganizes everything with which it comes in contact, this new -suspicion filled her thoughts, and added to her already intolerable -sufferings. - -Yet she never once thought of blaming Raoul; nor for a moment did she -feel displeased with her idolized son. She accused the marquis of -taking advantage of the youthful weakness and inexperience of his -nephew. - -She knew that she would have to suffer insolence and extortion from -this man who had her completely in his power; but she could not -imagine what object he now had in view, for she plainly saw that he -was aiming at something more than his nephew's success in life. He -constantly concealed some plan to benefit himself at her expense; but -assuredly her darling Raoul could not be an accomplice in any plot to -harass her. - -Clameran himself soon cleared her mind of all doubts. - -One day, after complaining more bitterly than usual of Raoul, and -proving to Mme. Fauvel that it was impossible for this state of -affairs to continue much longer, and a catastrophe was inevitable, he -would up by saying there was one means of salvation left. - -This was that he, Clameran, must marry Madeleine! - -Mme. Fauvel was prepared for almost any base proposal save this one. -She knew that his cupidity and insolence stopped at nothing, but never -did she imagine he would have the wild presumption to aspire to -Madeleine's hand. - -If she had renounced all hope of happiness for herself, if she -consented to the sacrifice of her own peace of mind, it was because -she thus hoped to insure the undisturbed felicity of her household, of -her husband, whom she had sinned against. - -This unexpected declaration shocked her, and for a moment she was -speechless. - -"Do you suppose for an instant, monsieur," she indignantly exclaimed, -"that I will consent to any such disgraceful project? Sacrifice -Madeleine, and to you!" - -"I certainly do suppose so, madame; in fact, I am certain of it," he -answered with cool insolence. - -"What sort of a woman do you think I am, monsieur? Alas, I am to -eternally suffer for a fault committed twenty years ago; have I not -already been more than adequately punished? And does it become you to -be constantly reproaching me with my long-past imprudence? You have no -right to be thus harassing me, till I dare not say my life is my own! -Your power is at an end, and God only knows how deeply I regret having -been insane enough to yield to its base sway! So long as I alone was -to be the tool, you found me weak and timid; but, now that you seek -the ruin of those I love, I rebel against your usurped authority. I -have still a little conscience left, and nothing under heaven will -force me to sacrifice my gentle, pure-hearted Madeleine!" - -"May I inquire, madame, why you regard Mlle. Madeleine's becoming the -Marchioness of Clameran as a disgrace and a sacrifice?" - -"My niece chose, of her own free will, a husband whom she will shortly -marry. She loves M. Prosper Bertomy." - -The marquis disdainfully shrugged his shoulders. - -"A school-girl love-affair," said he; "she will forget all about it, -if you wish her to do so." - -"I do not wish it. I wish her to marry him." - -"Listen to me," he replied, in the low, suppressed tone of a man -trying to control himself: "let us not waste time in these idle -discussions. Hitherto you have always commenced by protesting against -my proposed plans, and in the end acknowledge the good sense and -justness of my arguments; now, for once why not yield without going -through with the customary preliminaries? I ask it as a favor." - -"Never," said Mme. Fauvel, "never will I yield." - -Clameran paid no attention to this interruption, but went on: - -"I insist upon this marriage, mainly on your account, although it will -enable me to re-establish my own affairs, as well as yours and -Raoul's. Of course you see that the allowance you give your son is -insufficient for his extravagant style of living. The time approaches -when, having nothing more to give him, you will have to encroach upon -your husband's money-drawer to such an extent that longer concealment -will be impossible. When that day comes what is to be done? Perhaps -you have some feasible plan of escape?" - -Mme. Fauvel shuddered. The dreadful day of discovery could not be far -off, and no earthly way was there to escape it. - -The marquis went on: - -"Assist me now, and, instead of having to make a shameful confession, -you will thank me for having saved you. Mlle. Madeleine is rich: her -dowry will enable me to supply the deficiency, and spare you all -further anxiety about Raoul." - -"I would rather be ruined than be saved by such means." - -"But I will not permit you to ruin us all. Remember, madame, that we -are associated in a common cause, the future welfare of Raoul; and, -although you have a right to rush upon destruction yourself, you -certainly shall not drag us with you." - -"Cease your importunities," she said, looking him steadily in the eye. -"I have made up my mind irrevocably." - -"To what?" - -"To do everything and anything to escape your shameful persecution. -Oh! you need not smile. I shall throw myself at M. Fauvel's feet, and -confess everything. He is noble-hearted and generous, and, knowing how -I have suffered, will forgive me." - -"Do you think so?" said Clameran derisively. - -"You mean to say that he will be pitiless, and banish me from his -roof. So be it; it will only be what I deserve. There is no torture -that I cannot bear, after what I have suffered through you." - -This inconceivable resistance so upset all the marquis's plans that he -lost all constraint, and, dropping the mask of politeness, appeared in -his true character. - -"Indeed!" he said in a fierce, brutal tone, "so you have decided to -confess to your loving, magnanimous husband! A famous idea! What a -pity you did not think of it before; it is rather late to try it now. -Confessing everything the first day I called on you, you might have -been forgiven. Your husband might have pardoned a youthful fault -atoned for by twenty years of irreproachable conduct; for none can -deny that you have been a faithful wife and a good mother. But picture -the indignation of your trusting husband when you tell him that this -pretended nephew, whom you imposed upon his family circle, who sat at -his table, who borrowed his money, is your illegitimate son! M. Fauvel -is, no doubt, an excellent, kind-hearted man; but I scarcely think he -will pardon a deception of this nature, which betrays such depravity, -duplicity, and audacity." - -All that the angry marquis said was horribly true; yet Mme. Fauvel -listened unflinchingly, as if the coarse cruelty of his words -strengthened her resolution to have nothing more to do with him, but -to throw herself on her husband's mercy. - -"Upon my soul," he went on, "you must be very much infatuated with -this M. Bertomy! Between the honor of your husband's name, and -pleasing this love-sick cashier, you refuse to hesitate. Well, I -suppose he will console you. When M. Fauvel divorces you, and Abel and -Lucien avert their faces at your approach, and blush at being your -sons, you will be able to say, 'I have made Prosper happy!'" - -"Happen what may, I shall do what is right," said Mme. Fauvel. - -"You shall do what I say!" cried Clameran, threateningly. "Do you -suppose that I will allow your sentimentality to blast all my hopes? I -shall tolerate no such folly, madame, I can assure you. Your niece's -fortune is indispensable to us, and, more than that--I love the fair -Madeleine, and am determined to marry her." - -The blow once struck, the marquis judged it prudent to await the -result. With cool politeness, he continued: - -"I will leave you now, madame, to think the matter over, and you -cannot fail to view it in the same light as I do. You had better take -my advice, and consent to this sacrifice of prejudice, as it will be -the last required of you. Think of the honor of your family, and not -of your niece's love-affair. I will return in three days for your -answer." - -"Your return is unnecessary, monsieur: I shall tell my husband -everything to-night." - -If Mme. Fauvel had not been so agitated herself, she would have -detected an expression of alarm upon Clameran's face. - -But this uneasiness was only momentary. With a shrug, which meant, -"Just as you please," he said: - -"I think you have sense enough to keep your secret." - -He bowed ceremoniously, and left the room, but slammed the front door -after him so violently as to prove that his restrained anger burst -forth before leaving the house. - -Clameran had cause for fear. Mme. Fauvel's determination was not -feigned. She was firm in her resolve to confess. - -"Yes," she cried, with the enthusiasm of a noble resolution, "yes, I -will tell Andre everything!" - -She believed herself to be alone, but turned around suddenly at the -sound of footsteps, and found herself face to face with Madeleine, who -was pale and swollen-eyed with weeping. - -"You must obey this man, aunt," she quietly said. - -Adjoining the parlor was a little card-room separated only by a heavy -silk curtain, instead of a door. - -Madeleine was sitting in this little room when the marquis arrived, -and, as there was no egress save through the parlor, had remained, and -thus overheard the conversation. - -"Good Heaven!" cried Mme. Fauvel with terror, "do you know----" - -"I know everything, aunt." - -"And you wish me to sacrifice you to this fiend?" - -"I implore you to let me save you from misery." - -"You certainly despise and hate M. de Clameran; how can you think I -would let you marry him?" - -"I do despise him, aunt, and shall always regard him as the basest of -men; nevertheless I will marry him." - -Mme. Fauvel was overcome by the magnitude of this devotion. - -"And what is to become of Prosper, my poor child--Prosper, whom you -love?" - -Madeleine stifled a sob, and said in a firm voice: - -"To-morrow I will break off my engagement with M. Bertomy." - -"I will never permit such a wrong," cried Mme. Fauvel. "I will not add -to my sins by suffering an innocent girl to bear their penalty." - -The noble girl sadly shook her head, and replied: - -"Neither will I suffer dishonor to fall upon this house, which is my -home, while I have power to prevent it. Am I not indebted to you for -more than life? What would I now be had you not taken pity on me? A -factory girl in my native village. You warmly welcomed the poor -orphan, and became a mother to her. Is it not to your husband that I -owe the fortune which excites the cupidity of this wicked Clameran? -Are not Abel and Lucien brothers to me? And now, when the happiness of -all who have been loving and generous to me is at stake, do you -suppose I would hesitate? No. I will become the wife of Clameran." - -Then began a struggle of self-sacrifice between Mme. Fauvel and her -niece, as to which should be the victim; only the more sublime, -because each offered her life to the other, not from any sudden -impulse, but deliberately and willingly. - -But Madeleine carried the day, fired as she was by that holy -enthusiasm of sacrifice which is the sustaining element of martyrs. - -"I am responsible to none but myself," said she, well knowing this to -be the most vulnerable point she could attack; "whilst you, dear aunt, -are accountable to your husband and children. Think of the pain and -sorrow of M. Fauvel if he should learn the truth; it would kill him." - -The generous girl was right. She knew her uncle's heart. - -After having sacrificed her husband to her mother, Mme. Fauvel was -about to immolate her husband and children for Raoul. - -As a general thing, a first fault draws many others in its train. As -an impalpable flake is the beginning of an avalanche, so an imprudence -is often the prelude to a great crime. - -To false situations there is but one safe issue: truth. - -Mme. Fauvel's resistance grew weaker and more faint, as her niece -pointed out the line for her to pursue: the path of wifely duty. - -"But," she faintly argued, "I cannot accept your sacrifice. What sort -of a life will you lead with this man?" - -"We can hope for the best," replied Madeleine with a cheerfulness she -was far from feeling; "he loves me, he says; perhaps he will be kind -to me." - -"Ah, if I only knew where to obtain money! It is money that the -grasping man wants; money alone will satisfy him." - -"Does he not want it for Raoul? Has not Raoul, by his extravagant -follies, dug an abyss which must be bridged over by money? If I could -only believe M. de Clameran!" - -Mme. Fauvel looked at her niece with bewildered curiosity. - -What! this inexperienced girl had weighed the matter in its different -lights before deciding upon a surrender; whereas, she, a wife and a -mother, had blindly yielded to the inspirations of her heart! - -"What do you mean? Madeleine, what do you suspect?" - -"I mean this, aunt: that I do not believe that Clameran has any -thought of his nephew's welfare. Once in possession of my fortune, he -may leave you and Raoul to your fates. And there is another dreadful -suspicion that tortures my mind." - -"A suspicion?" - -"Yes, and I would reveal it to you, if I dared; if I did not fear that -you--" - -"Speak!" insisted Mme. Fauvel. "Alas! misfortune has given me strength -to bear all things. There is nothing worse than has already happened. -I am ready to hear anything." - -Madeleine hesitated; she wished to enlighten her credulous aunt, and -yet hesitated to distress her. - -"I would like to be certain," she said, "that some secret -understanding between M. de Clameran and Raoul does not exist. Do you -not think they are acting a part agreed upon for the purpose of -extorting money?" - -Love is blind and deaf. Mme. Fauvel would not remember the laughing -eyes of the two men, upon the occasion of the pretended quarrel in her -presence. Infatuation had drowned suspicion. She could not, she would -not, believe in such hypocrisy. Raoul plot against the mother? Never! - -"It is impossible," she said, "the marquis is really indignant and -distressed at his nephew's mode of life, and he certainly would not -countenance any disgraceful conduct. As to Raoul, he is vain, -trifling, and extravagant; but he has a good heart. Prosperity has -turned his head, but he loves me still. Ah, if you could see and hear -him, when I reproach him for his faults, your suspicions would fly to -the winds. When he tearfully promises to be more prudent, and never -again give me trouble, he means to keep his word; but perfidious -friends entice him away, and he commits some piece of folly without -thinking of the consequences." - -Mothers always blame themselves and everyone else for the sins of -their sons. The innocent friends come in for the principal share of -censure, each mother's son leading the other astray. - -Madeleine had not the heart to undeceive her aunt. - -"God grant that what you say may be true," she said; "if so, this -marriage will not be useless. We will write to M. de Clameran -to-night." - -"Why to-night, Madeleine? We need not hurry so. Let us wait a little; -something else might happen to save us." - -These words, this confidence in chance, in a mere nothing, revealed -Mme. Fauvel's true character, and accounted for her troubles. Timid, -hesitating, easily swayed, she never could come to a firm decision, -form a resolution, and abide by it, in spite of all arguments brought -to bear against it. In the hour of peril she would always shut her -eyes and trust to chance for a relief which never came. Never once did -she think to ward off trouble by her own exertions. - -Quite different was Madeleine's character. Beneath her gentle timidity -lay a strong, self-reliant will. Once decided upon what was right and -just, nothing could change her. If it was her duty to make a -sacrifice, it was to be carried out to the letter; no hesitation and -sighs for what might have been; she shut out all deceitful illusions, -and walked straight forward without one look back. - -"We had better end the matter at once, dear aunt," she said, in a -gentle, but firm tone. "Believe me, the reality of misfortune is not -as painful as its apprehension. You cannot bear the shocks of sorrow, -and delusive hopes of happiness, much longer. Do you know what anxiety -of mind has done to you? Have you looked in the mirror during the last -four months?" - -She led her aunt up to the glass, and said: - -"Look at yourself." - -Mme. Fauvel was indeed a mere shadow of her former self. - -She had reached the perfidious age when a woman's beauty, like a full- -blown rose, fades in a day. - -Four months of trouble had made her an old woman. Sorrow had stamped -its fatal seal upon her brow. Her fair, soft skin was wrinkled, her -golden hair was streaked with silver, and her large, soft eyes had a -painfully frightened look. - -"Do you not agree with me," continued Madeleine, pityingly, "that -peace of mind is necessary to you? Do you not see that you are a wreck -of your former self? It is a miracle that M. Fauvel has not noticed -this sad change in you!" - -Mme. Fauvel, who flattered herself that she had displayed wonderful -dissimulation, shook her head. - -"Alas, my poor aunt! you think you concealed your secret from all: you -may have blinded my uncle, but I suspected all along that something -dreadful was breaking your heart." - -"You suspected what, Madeleine? Not the truth?" - -"No, I was afraid-- Oh, pardon an unjust suspicion, my dear aunt, but -I was wicked enough to suppose----" - -She stopped, too distressed to finish her sentence; then, making a -painful effort, she added, as her aunt signed to her to go on: - -"I was afraid that perhaps you loved another man than my uncle; it was -the only construction that I could put upon your strange conduct." - -Mme. Fauvel buried her face, and groaned. Madeleine's suspicion was, -no doubt, entertained by others. - -"My reputation is gone," she moaned. - -"No, dear aunt, no; do not be alarmed about that. No one has had -occasion to observe you as I have; it was only a dreadful thought -which penetrated my mind in spite of my endeavors to dispel it. Have -courage: we two can fight the world and silence our enemies. You shall -be saved, aunt: only trust in me." - -The Marquis of Clameran was agreeably surprised that evening by -receiving a letter from Mme. Fauvel, saying that she consented to -everything, but must have a little time to carry out the plan. - -Madeleine, she said, could not break off her engagement with M. -Bertomy in a day. M. Fauvel would make objections, for he had an -affection for Prosper, and had tacitly approved of the match. It would -be wiser to leave to time the smoothing away of certain obstacles -which a sudden attack might render insurmountable. - -A line from Madeleine, at the bottom of the letter, assured him that -she fully concurred with her aunt. - -Poor girl! she did not spare herself. The next day she took Prosper -aside, and forced from him the fatal promise to shun her in the -future, and to take upon himself the responsibility of breaking their -engagement. - -He implored Madeleine to at least explain the reason of this -banishment, which destroyed all of his hopes for happiness. - -She quietly replied that her peace of mind and honor depended upon his -blind obedience to her will. - -He left her with death in his soul. - -As he went out of the house, the marquis entered. - -Yes, he had the audacity to come in person, to tell Mme. Fauvel that, -now he had the promise of herself and Madeleine, he would consent to -wait awhile. - -He himself saw the necessity of patience, knowing that he was not -liked by the banker. - -Having the aunt and niece on his side, or rather in his power, he was -certain of success. He said to himself that the moment would come when -a deficit impossible to be paid would force them to hasten the -wedding. - -Raoul did all he could to bring matters to a crisis. - -Mme. Fauvel went sooner than usual to her country seat, and Raoul at -once moved into his house at Vesinet. But living in the country did -not lessen his expenses. - -Gradually he laid aside all hypocrisy, and now only came to see his -mother when he wanted money; and his demands were frequent and more -exorbitant each time. - -As for the marquis, he prudently absented himself, awaiting the -propitious moment. - -At the end of three weeks he met the banker at a friend's, and was -invited to dinner the next day. - -Twenty people were seated at the table; and, as the dessert was being -served, the banker suddenly turned to Clameran and said: - -"I have a piece of news for you, monsieur. Have you any relatives of -your name?" - -"None that I know of, monsieur." - -"I am surprised. About a week ago, I became acquainted with another -Marquis of Clameran." - -Although so hardened by crime, impudent enough to deny anything, -Clameran was so taken aback that he sat with pale face and a blank -look, silently staring at M. Fauvel. - -But he soon recovered enough self-control to say hurriedly: - -"Oh, indeed! That is strange. A Clameran may exist; but I cannot -understand the title of marquis." - -M. Fauvel was not sorry to have the opportunity of annoying a guest -whose aristocratic pretensions had often piqued him. - -"Marquis or not," he replied, "the Clameran in question seems to be -able to do honor to the title." - -"Is he rich?" - -"I have reason to suppose that he is very wealthy. I have been -notified to collect for him four hundred thousand francs." - -Clameran had a wonderful faculty of self-control; he had so schooled -himself that his face never betrayed what was passing in his mind. But -this news was so startling, so strange, so pregnant of danger, that -his usual assurance deserted him. - -He detected a peculiar look of irony in the banker's eye. - -The only persons who noticed this sudden change in the marquis's -matter were Madeleine and her aunt. They saw him turn pale, and -exchange a meaning look with Raoul. - -"Then I suppose this new marquis is a merchant," said Clameran after a -moment's pause. - -"That I don't know. All that I know is, that four hundred thousand -francs are to be deposited to his account by some ship-owners at -Havre, after the sale of the cargo of a Brazilian ship." - -"Then he comes from Brazil?" - -"I do not know, but I can give you his Christian name." - -"I would be obliged." - -M. Fauvel arose from the table, and brought from the next room a -memorandum-book, and began to read over the names written in it. - -"Wait a moment," he said, "let me see--the 22nd, no, it was later than -that. Ah, here it is: Clameran, Gaston. His name is Gaston, monsieur." - -But this time Louis betrayed no emotion or alarm; he had had -sufficient time to recover his self-possession, and nothing could not -throw him off his guard. - -"Gaston?" he queried, carelessly. "I know who he is now. He must be -the son of my father's sister, whose husband lived at Havana. I -suppose, upon his return to France, he must have taken his mother's -name, which is more sonorous than his father's, that being, if I -recollect aright, Moirot or Boirot." - -The banker laid down his memorandum-book, and, resuming his seat, went -on: - -"Boirot or Clameran," said he, "I hope to have the pleasure of -inviting you to dine with him before long. Of the four hundred -thousand francs which I was ordered to collect for him, he only wishes -to draw one hundred, and tells me to keep the rest on running account. -I judge from this that he intends coming to Paris." - -"I shall be delighted to make his acquaintance." - -Clameran broached another topic, and seemed to have entirely forgotten -the news told him by the banker. - -Although apparently engrossed in the conversation of his neighbor at -the table, he closely watched Mme. Fauvel and her niece. - -He saw that they were unable to conceal their agitation, and -stealthily exchanged significant looks. - -Evidently the same terrible idea had crossed their minds. - -Madeleine seemed more nervous and startled than her aunt. When M. -Fauvel uttered Gaston's name, she saw Raoul begin to draw back in his -chair and glance in a frightened manner toward the window, like a -detected thief looking for means of escape. - -Raoul, less experienced than his uncle, was thoroughly -discountenanced. He, the original talker, the lion of a dinner-party, -never at a loss for some witty speech, was now perfectly dumb; he sat -anxiously watching Louis. - -At last the dinner ended, and as the guests passed into the drawing- -room, Clameran and Raoul managed to remain last in the dining-room. - -When they were alone, they no longer attempted to conceal their -anxiety. - -"It is he!" said Raoul. - -"I have no doubt of it." - -"Then all is lost; we had better make our escape." - -But a bold adventurer like Clameran had no idea of giving up the ship -till forced to do so. - -"Who knows what may happen?" he asked, thoughtfully. "There is hope -yet. Why did not that muddle-headed banker tell us where this Clameran -is to be found?" - -Here he uttered a joyful exclamation. He saw M. Fauvel's memorandum- -book lying on the table. - -"Watch!" he said to Raoul. - -Seizing the note-book, he hurriedly turned over the leaves, and, in an -undertone, read: - -"Gaston, Marquis of Clameran, Oloron, Lower Pyrenees." - -"Well, does finding out his address assist us?" inquired Raoul, -eagerly. - -"It may save us: that is all. Let us return to the drawing-room; our -absence might be observed. Exert yourself to appear unconcerned and -gay. You almost betrayed us once by your agitation." - -"The two women suspect something." - -"Well, suppose they do?" - -"The best thing that we can do is escape; the sooner we leave Paris, -the better." - -"Do you think we should do any better in London? Don't be so easily -frightened. I am going to plant my batteries, and I warrant they will -prove successful." - -They joined the other guests. But, if their conversation had not been -overheard their movements had been watched. - -Madeleine looked through the half-open door, and saw Clameran -consulting her uncle's note-book, and whispering to Raoul. But what -benefit would she derive from this proof of the marquis's villany? She -knew now that he was plotting to obtain her fortune, and she would be -forced to yield it to him; that he had squandered his brother's -fortune, and was now frightened at the prospect of having to account -for it. Still this did not explain Raoul's conduct. Why did he show -such fear?" - -Two hours later, Clameran was on the road to Vesinet with Raoul, -explaining to him his plans. - -"It is my precious brother, and no mistake," he said. "But that need -not alarm you so easily, my lovely nephew." - -"Merciful powers! Doesn't the banker expect to see him any day? Is he -not liable to pounce down on me to-morrow?" - -"Don't be an idiot!" interrupted Clameran. "Does he know that Fauvel -is Valentine's husband? That is what we must find out. If he knows -that little fact, we must take to our heels; if he is ignorant of it, -our case is not desperate." - -"How will you find out?" - -"By simply asking him." - -Raoul exclaimed at his ally's cunning: - -"That is a dangerous thing to do," he said. - -"'Tis not as dangerous as sitting down with our hands folded. And, as -to running away at the first suspicion of alarm, it would be -imbecility." - -"Who is going to look for him?" - -"I am." - -"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Raoul in three different tones. Clameran's -audacity confounded him. - -"But what am I going to do?" he inquired after a moment's silence. - -"You will oblige me by remaining here and keeping quiet. I will send -you a despatch if there is danger; and then you can decamp." - -As they parted at Raoul's door, Clameran said: - -"Now, remember. Stay here, and during my absence be very intimate at -your devoted mother's. Be the most dutiful of sons. Abuse me as much -as you please to her; and, above all, don't indulge in any folly; make -no demands for money; keep your eyes open. Good-by. To-morrow evening -I will be at Oloron talking with this new Clameran." - - - -XVIII - -After leaving Valentine de la Verberie, Gaston underwent great peril -and difficulty in effecting his escape. - -But for the experienced and faithful Menoul, he never would have -succeeded in embarking. - -Having left his mother's jewels with Valentine, his sole fortune -consisted of not quite a thousand francs; and with this paltry sum in -his pocket, the murderer of two men, a fugitive from justice, and with -no prospect of earning a livelihood, he took passage for Valparaiso. - -But Menoul was a bold and experienced sailor. - -While Gaston remained concealed in a farm-house at Camargue, Menoul -went to Marseilles, and that very evening discovered, from some of his -sailor friends, that a three-masted American vessel was in the -roadstead, whose commander, Captain Warth, a not over-scrupulous -Yankee, would be glad to welcome on board an able-bodied man who would -be of assistance to him at sea. - -After visiting the vessel, and finding, during a conversation over a -glass of rum with the captain, that he was quite willing to take a -sailor without disturbing himself about his antecedents, Menoul -returned to Gaston. - -"Left to my own choice, monsieur," he said, "I should have settled -this matter on the spot; but you might object to it." - -"What suits you, suits me," interrupted Gaston. - -"You see, the fact is, you will be obliged to work very hard. A -sailor's life is not boy's play. You will not find much pleasure in -it. And I must confess that the ship's company is not the most moral -one I ever saw. You never would imagine yourself in a Christian -company. And the captain is a regular swaggering bully." - -"I have no choice," said Gaston. "Let us go on board at once." - -Old Menoul's suspicions were correct. - -Before Gaston had been on board the Tom Jones forty-eight hours, he -saw that chance had cast him among a collection of the most depraved -bandits and cut-throats. - -The vessel, which seemed to have recruited at all points of the -compass, possessed a crew composed of every variety of thievish -knaves; each country had contributed a specimen. - -But Gaston's mind was undisturbed as to the character of the people -with whom his lot was cast for several months. - -It was only his miserable wounded body, that the vessel was carrying -to a new country. His heart and soul rested in the shady park of La -Verberie, beside his lovely Valentine. He took no note of the men -around him, but lived over again those precious hours of bliss beneath -the old tree on the banks of the Rhone, where his beloved had confided -her heart to his keeping, and sworn to love him forever. - -And what would become of her now, poor child, when he was no longer -there to love, console, and defend her? - -Happily, he had no time for sad reflections. - -His every moment was occupied in learning the rough apprenticeship of -a sailor's life. All his energies were spent in bearing up under the -heavy burden of labor allotted to him. Being totally unaccustomed to -manual work, he found it difficult to keep pace with the other -sailors, and for the first week or two he was often near fainting at -his post, from sheer fatigue; but indomitable energy kept him up. - -This was his salvation. Physical suffering calmed and deadened his -mental agony. The few hours relaxation granted him were spent in heavy -sleep; the instant his weary body touched his bunk, his eyes closed, -and no moment did he have to mourn over the past. - -At rare intervals, when the weather was calm, and he was relieved from -his constant occupation of trimming the sails, he would anxiously -question the future, and wonder what he should do when this irksome -voyage was ended. - -He had sworn that he would return before the end of three years, rich -enough to satisfy the exactions of Mme. de la Verberie. How should he -be able to keep this boastful promise? Stern reality had convinced him -that his projects could never be realized, except by hard work and -long waiting. What he hoped to accomplish in three years was likely to -require a lifetime. - -Judging from the conversation of his companions, he was not now on the -road to fortune. - -The Tom Jones set sail for Valparaiso, but certainly went in a -roundabout way to reach her destination. - -The real fact was, that Captain Warth proposed visiting the Gulf of -Guinea. - -A friend of his, the "Black Prince," he said, with a loud laugh, was -waiting for him at Badagri, to exchange a cargo of "/ebony/" for some -pipes of rum, and a hundred flint-lock muskets which were on board the -Tom Jones. - -Gaston soon saw that he was serving his apprenticeship on a slaver, -one of the many ships sent yearly by the free and philanthropic -Americans, who made immense fortunes by carrying on the slave-trade. - -Although this discovery filled Gaston with indignation and shame, he -was prudent enough to conceal his impressions. - -His remonstrances, no matter how eloquent, would have made no change -in the opinions of Captain Warth regarding a traffic which brought him -in more than a hundred per cent, in spite of the French and English -cruisers, the damages, sometimes entire loss of cargoes, and many -other risks. - -The crew admired Gaston when they learned that he had cut two men into -mince-meat when they were insolent to him; this was the account of -Gaston's affair, as reported to the captain by old Menoul. - -Gaston wisely determined to keep on friendly terms with the villains, -as long as he was in their power. To express disapproval of their -conduct would have incurred the enmity of the whole crew, without -bettering his own situation. - -He therefore kept quiet, but swore mentally that he would desert on -the first opportunity. - -This opportunity, like everything impatiently longed for, came not. - -By the end of three months, Gaston had become so useful and popular -that Captain Warth found him indispensable. - -Seeing him so intelligent and agreeable, he liked to have him at his -own table, and would spend hours at cards with him or consulting about -his business matters. The mate of the ship dying, Gaston was chosen to -replace him. In this capacity he made two successful voyages to -Guinea, bringing back a thousand blacks, whom he superintended during -a trip of fifteen hundred leagues, and finally landed them on the -coast of Brazil. - -When Gaston had been with Captain Warth about three years, the Tom -Jones stopped at Rio Janeiro for a month, to lay in supplies. He now -decided to leave the ship, although he had become somewhat attached to -the friendly captain, who was after all a worthy man, and never would -have engaged in the diabolical traffic of human beings, but for his -little angel daughter's sake. He said that his child was so good and -beautiful, that she deserved a large fortune. Each time that he sold a -black, he would quiet any faint qualms of conscience by saying, "It is -for little Mary's good." - -Gaston possessed twelve thousand francs, as his share of the profits, -when he landed at Brazil. - -As a proof that the slave-trade was repugnant to his nature, he left -the slaver the moment he possessed a little capital with which to -enter some honest business. - -But he was no longer the high-minded, pure-hearted Gaston, who had so -devotedly loved and perilled his life for the little fairy of La -Verberie. - -It is useless to deny that evil examples are pernicious to morals. The -most upright characters are unconsciously influenced by bad -surroundings. As the exposure to rain, sun, and sea-air first darkened -and then hardened his skin, so did wicked associates first shock and -then destroy the refinement and purity of Gaston's mind. His heart had -become as hard and coarse as his sailor hands. He still remembered -Valentine, and sighed for her presence; but she was no longer the sole -object of affection, the one woman in the world to him. Contact with -sin had lowered his standard of women. - -The three years, after which he had pledged himself to return, had -passed; perhaps Valentine was expecting him. Before deciding on any -definite project, he wrote to an intimate friend at Beaucaire to learn -what had happened during his long absence. He expressed great anxiety -about his family and neighbors. - -He also wrote to his father, asking why he had never answered the many -letters which he had sent to him by returning sailors, who would have -safely forwarded the replies. - -At the end of a year, he received an answer from his friend. - -The letter almost drove him mad. - -It told him that his father was dead; that his brother had left -France, Valentine was lately married, and that he, Gaston, had been -sentenced to ten years' imprisonment for murder. - -Henceforth he was alone in the world; with no country, no family, no -home, and disgraced by a public sentence. - -Valentine was married, and he had no object in life! He would -hereafter have faith in no one, since she, Valentine, had cast him -off, forgotten him. What could he expect of others, when she had -broken her troth, had lacked the courage to keep her promise and wait -for him?--she, whom he had so trusted. - -In his despair, he almost regretted the Tom Jones. Yes, he sighed for -the wicked slaver crew, his life of excitement and peril. The dangers -and triumphs of those bold pirates whose only care was to heap up -money would have been preferable to his present wretchedness. - -But Gaston was not a man to be long cast down. - -"Money is the cause of it all!" he said with rage. "If the lack of -money can bring such misery, its possession must bestow intense -happiness. Henceforth I will devote all my energies to getting money." - -He set to work with a greedy activity, which increased each day. He -tried all the many speculations open to adventurers. Alternately he -traded in furs, worked in a mine, and cultivated lands. - -Five times he went to bed rich, and waked up ruined; five times, with -the patience of the castor, whose hut is swept away by each returning -tide, he recommenced the foundation of his fortune. - -Finally, after long weary years of toil and struggle, he was worth a -million in gold, besides immense tracts of land. - -He had often said that he would never leave Brazil, that he wanted to -end his days in Rio. He had forgotten that love for his native land -never dies in the heart of a Frenchman. Now that he was rich, he -wished to die in France. - -He made inquiries, and found that the law of limitations would permit -him to return without being disturbed by the authorities. He left his -property in charge of an agent, and embarked for France, taking a -large portion of his fortune with him. - -Twenty-three years and four months had elapsed since he fled from -home. - -On a bright, crisp day in January, 1866, he once again stepped on -French soil. With a sad heart, he stood upon the quays at Bordeaux, -and compared the past with the present. - -He had departed a young man, ambitious, hopeful, and beloved; he -returned gray-haired, disappointed, trusting no one. - -Gold could not supply the place of affection. He had said that riches -would bring happiness: his wealth was immense, and he was miserable. - -His health, too, began to suffer from this sudden change of climate. -Rheumatism confined him to his bed for several months. As soon as he -could sit up, the physicians sent him to the warm baths, where he -recovered his health, but not his spirits. He felt his lonely -condition more terribly in his own country than when in a foreign -land. - -He determined to divert his mind by engaging in some occupation which -would keep him too busy to think of himself and his disappointment. -Charmed with the beauty of the Pyrenees, and the lovely valley of -Aspe, he resolved to take up his abode there. - -An iron-mill was for sale near Oloron, on the borders of the Gara; he -bought it with the intention of utilizing the immense quantity of -wood, which, for want of means of transportation, was being wasted in -the mountains. - -He was soon settled comfortably in his new home, and enjoying a busy, -active life. - -One evening, as he was ruminating over the past, his servant brought -him a card, and said the gentleman was waiting to see him. - -He read the name on the card: /Louis de Clameran/. - -Many years had passed since Gaston had experienced such violent -agitation. His blood rushed to his face, and he trembled like a leaf. - -The old home affections which he thought dead now sprung up anew in -his heart. A thousand confused memories rushed through his mind. Like -one in a dream, he tottered toward the door, gasping, in a smothered, -broken voice: - -"My brother! oh, my brother!" - -Hurriedly passing by the frightened servant, he ran downstairs. - -In the passage stood a man: it was Louis de Clameran. - -Gaston threw his arms around his neck and held him in a close embrace -for some minutes, and then drew him into the room. - -Seated close beside him, with his two hands tightly clasped in those -of Louis, Gaston gazed at his brother as a fond mother would gaze at -her son just returned from the battle-field. - -There was scarcely any danger and excitement which the mate of the -redoubtable Captain Warth had not experienced; nothing had ever before -caused him to lose his calm presence of mind, to force him to betray -that he had a heart. The sight of this long unseen brother seemed to -have changed his nature; he was like a woman, weeping and laughing at -once. - -"And is this really Louis?" he cried. "My dear brother! Why, I should -have recognized you among a thousand; the expression of your face is -just the same; your smile takes me back twenty-three years." - -Louis did indeed smile, just as he smiled on that fatal night when his -horse stumbled, and prevented Gaston's escape. - -He smiled now as if he was perfectly happy at meeting his brother. - -And he was much more at ease than he had been a few moments before. He -had exerted all the courage he possessed to venture upon this meeting. -Nothing but pressing necessity would have induced him to face this -brother, who seemed to have risen from the dead to reproach him for -his crimes. - -His teeth chattered and he trembled in every limb when he rang -Gaston's bell, and handed the servant his card, saying: - -"Take this to your master." - -The few moments before Gaston's appearance seemed to be centuries. He -said to himself: - -"Perhaps it is not he; if it is he, does he know? Does he suspect -anything? How will he receive me?" - -He was so anxious, that when he saw Gaston running downstairs, he felt -like fleeing from the house without speaking to him. - -Not knowing the nature of Gaston's feelings, whether he was hastening -toward him in anger or brotherly love, he stood perfectly motionless. -But one glance at his brother's face convinced him that he was the -same affectionate, credulous, trusting Gaston of old; and, now that he -was certain that his brother harbored no suspicions, he smilingly -received the demonstrations lavished upon him. - -"After all," continued Gaston, "I am not alone in the world; I shall -have someone to love, someone to care for me." - -Then, as if suddenly struck by a thought, he said: - -"Are you married, Louis?" - -"No." - -"That is a pity, a great pity. It would so add to my happiness to see -you the husband of a good, affectionate woman, the father of bright, -lovely children! It would be a comfort to have a happy family about -me. I should look upon them all as my own. To live alone, without a -loving wife to share one's joys and sorrows, is not living at all: it -is a sort of living death. There is no joy equal to having the -affection of a true woman whose happiness is in your keeping. Oh the -sadness of having only one's self to care for! But what am I saying? -Louis, forgive me. I have you now, and ought not that to be enough? I -have a brother, a kind friend who will be interested in me, and afford -me company, instead of the weariness of solitude." - -"Yes, Gaston, yes: I am your best friend." - -"Of course you are. Being my brother, you are naturally my true -friend. You are not married, you say. Then we will have to do the best -we can, and keep house for ourselves. We will live together like two -old bachelors, as we are, and be as happy as kings; we will lead a gay -life, and enjoy everything that can be enjoyed. I feel twenty years -younger already. The sight of your face renews my youth, and I feel as -active and strong as I did the night I swam across the swollen Rhone. -And that was long, long ago. The struggles, privations, and anxieties -endured since, have been enough to age any man. I feel old, older than -my years." - -"What an idea!" interrupted Louis: "why, you look younger than I do." - -"You are jesting." - -"I swear I think you look the younger." - -"Would you have recognized me?" - -"Instantly. You are very little changed." - -And Louis was right. He himself had an old, worn-out, used-up -appearance; while Gaston, in spite of his gray hair and weather-beaten -face, was a robust man, in the full maturity of his prime. - -It was a relief to turn from Louis's restless eyes and crafty smile to -Gaston's frank, honest face. - -"But," said Gaston, "how did you know that I was living? What kind -chance guided you to my house?" - -Louis was prepared for this question. During his eighteen hours' ride -by the railway, he had arranged all his answers, and had his story -ready. - -"We must thank Providence for this happy meeting," he replied. "Three -days ago, a friend of mine returned from the baths, and mentioned that -he had heard that a Marquis of Clameran was near there, in the -Pyrenees. You can imagine my surprise. I instantly supposed that some -impostor had assumed our name. I took the next train, and finally -found my way here." - -"Then you did not expect to see me?" - -"My dear brother, how could I hope for that? I thought that you were -drowned twenty-three years ago." - -"Drowned! Mlle. de la Verberie certainly told you of my escape? She -promised that she would go herself, the next day, and tell my father -of my safety." - -Louis assumed a distressed look, as if he hesitated to tell a sad -truth, and said, in a regretful tone: - -"Alas! she never told us." - -Gaston's eyes flashed with indignation. He thought that perhaps -Valentine had been glad to get rid of him. - -"She did not tell you?" he exclaimed. "Did she have the cruelty to let -you mourn my death? to let my old father die of a broken heart? Ah, -she must have been very fearful of what the world says. She sacrificed -me, then, for the sake of her reputation." - -"But why did you not write to us?" asked Louis. - -"I did write as soon as I had an opportunity; and Lafourcade wrote -back, saying that my father was dead, and that you had left the -country." - -"I left Clameran because I believed you to be dead." - -After a long silence, Gaston arose, and walked up and down the room as -if to shake off a feeling of sadness; then he said, cheerfully: - -"Well, it is of no use to mourn over the past. All the memories in the -world, good or bad, are not worth one slender hope for the future; and -thank God, we have a bright future before us. Let us bury the past, -and enjoy life together." - -Louis was silent. His footing was not sure enough to risk any -questions. - -"But here I have been talking incessantly for an hour," said Gaston, -"and I dare say that you have not dined." - -"No, I have not, I confess." - -"Why did you not say so before? I forgot that I had not dined myself. -I will not let you starve, the first day of your arrival. I will make -amends by giving you some splendid old Cape wine." - -He pulled the bell, and ordered the servant to hasten dinner, adding -that it must be an excellent one; and within an hour the two brothers -were seated at a sumptuous repast. - -Gaston kept up an uninterrupted stream of questions. He wished to know -all that had happened during his absence. - -"What about Clameran?" he abruptly asked. - -Louis hesitated a moment. Should he tell the truth, or not? - -"I have sold Clameran," he finally said. - -"The chateau too?" - -"Yes." - -"You acted as you thought best," said Gaston sadly; "but it seems to -me that, if I had been in your place, I should have kept the old -homestead. Our ancestors lived there for many generations, and our -father lies buried there." - -Then seeing Louis appear sad and distressed, he quickly added: - -"However, it is just as well; it is in the heart that memory dwells, -and not in a pile of old stones. I myself had not the courage to -return to Provence. I could not trust myself to go to Clameran, where -I would have to look into the park of La Verberie. Alas, the only -happy moments of my life were spent there!" - -Louis's countenance immediately cleared. The certainty that Gaston had -not been to Provence relieved his mind of an immense weight. - -The next day Louis telegraphed to Raoul: - -"Wisdom and prudence. Follow my directions. All goes well. Be -sanguine." - -All was going well; and yet Louis, in spite of his skilfully applied -questions, had obtained none of the information which he had come to -obtain. - -Gaston was communicative on every subject except the one in which -Louis was interested. Was this silence premeditated, or simply -unconscious? Louis, like all villains, was ever ready to attribute to -others the bad motives by which he himself would be influenced. - -Anything was better than this uncertainty; he determined to ask his -brother plainly what his intentions were in regard to money matters. - -He thought the dinner-table a favorable opportunity, and began by -saying: - -"Do you know, my dear Gaston, that thus far we have discussed every -topic except the most important one?" - -"Why do you look so solemn, Louis? What is the grave subject of which -you speak?" - -"Our father's estate. Supposing you to be dead, I inherited, and have -disposed of it." - -"Is that what you call a serious matter?" said Gaston with an amused -smile. - -"It certainly is very serious to me; as you have a right to half of -the estate, I must account to you for it. You have--" - -"I have," interrupted Gaston, "a right to ask you never to allude to -the subject again. It is yours by limitation." - -"I cannot accept it upon those terms." - -"But you must. My father only wished to have one of us inherit his -property; we will be carrying out his wishes by not dividing it." - -Seeing that Louis's face still remained clouded, he went on: - -"Ah, I see what annoys you, my dear Louis; you are rich, and think -that I am poor, and too proud to accept anything from you. Is it not -so?" - -Louis started at this question. How could he reply so as not to commit -himself? - -"I am not rich," he finally said. - -"I am delighted to hear it," cried Gaston. "I wish you were as poor as -Job, so that I might share what I have with you." - -Dinner over, Gaston rose and said: - -"Come, I want to visit with you, my--that is, our property. You must -see everything about the place." - -Louis uneasily followed his brother. It seemed to him that Gaston -obstinately shunned anything like an explanation. - -Could all this brotherly confidence be assumed to blind him as to his -real plans? Why did Gaston inquire into his brother's past and future, -without revealing his own? Louis's suspicions were aroused, and he -regretted his over-hasty seeking of Gaston. - -But his calm, smiling face betrayed none of the anxious thoughts which -filled his mind. - -He was called upon to praise everything. First he was taken over the -house and servants' quarters, then to the stable, kennels, and the -vast, beautifully laid-out garden. Across a pretty meadow was the -iron-foundery in full operation. Gaston, with all the enthusiasm of a -new proprietor, explained everything, down to the smallest file and -hammer. - -He detailed all his projects; how he intended substituting wood for -coal, and how, besides having plenty to work the forge, he could make -immense profits by felling the forest trees, which had hitherto been -considered impracticable. He would cut a hundred cords of wood that -year. - -Louis approved of everything; but only answered in monosyllables, "Ah, -indeed! excellent idea; quite a success." - -His mind was tortured by a new pain; he was paying no attention to -Gaston's remarks, but enviously comparing all this wealth and -prosperity with his own poverty. - -He found Gaston rich, respected, and happy, enjoying the price of his -own labor and industry; whilst he-- Never had he so cruelly felt the -misery of his own condition; and he had brought it on himself, which -only made it more aggravating. - -After a lapse of twenty-three years, all the envy and hate he had felt -toward Gaston, when they were boys together, revived. - -"What do you think of my purchase?" asked Gaston, when the inspection -was over. - -"I think you possess, my dear brother, a most splendid piece of -property, and on the loveliest spot in the world. It is enough to -excite the envy of any poor Parisian." - -"Do you really think so?" - -"Certainly." - -"Then, my dear Louis," said Gaston joyfully, "this property is yours, -as well as mine. You like this lovely Bearn more than the dusty -streets of Paris? I am very glad that you prefer the comforts of -living on your own estate, to the glitter and show of a city life. -Everything you can possibly want is here, at your command. And, to -employ our time, there is the foundery. Does my plan suit you?" - -Louis was silent. A year ago this proposal would have been eagerly -welcomed. How gladly he would have seized this offer of a comfortable, -luxurious home, after having been buffeted about the world so long! -How delightful it would have been to turn over a new leaf, and become -an honest man! - -But he saw with disappointment and rage that he would now be compelled -to decline it. - -He was no longer free. He could not leave Paris. - -He had become entangled in one of those hazardous plots which are -fatal if neglected, and whose failure generally leads the projector to -the galleys. - -Alone, he could easily remain where he was: but he was trammelled with -an accomplice. - -"You do not answer me," said Gaston with surprise; "are there any -obstacles to my plans?" - -"None." - -"What is the matter, then?" - -"The matter is, my dear brother, that the salary of an office which I -hold in Paris is all that I have to support me." - -"Is that your only objection? Yet you just now wanted to pay me back -half of the family inheritance! Louis, that is unkind; you are not -acting as a brother should." - -Louis hung his head. Gaston was unconsciously telling the truth. - -"I should be a burden to you, Gaston." - -"A burden! Why, Louis, you must be mad! Did I not tell you I am very -rich? Do you suppose that you have seen all I possess? This house and -the iron-works do not constitute a fourth of my fortune. Do you think -that I would have risked my twenty years' savings in an experiment of -this sort? The forge may be a failure; and then what would become of -me, if I had nothing else? - -"I have invested money which yields me an income of eighty thousand -francs. Besides, my grants in Brazil have been sold, and my agent has -already deposited four hundred thousand francs to my credit as part -payment." - -Louis trembled with pleasure. He was, at last, to know the extent of -the danger hanging over him. Gaston had finally broached the subject -which had caused him so much anxiety, and he determined that it should -now be explained before their conversation ended. - -"Who is your agent?" he asked with assumed indifference. - -"My old partner at Rio. He deposited the money at my Paris banker's." - -"Is this banker a friend of yours?" - -"No; I never heard of him until my banker at Pau recommended him to me -as an honest, reliable man; he is immensely wealthy, and stands at the -head of the financiers in Paris. His name is Fauvel, and he lives on -the Rue de Provence." - -Although prepared for hearing almost anything, and determined to -betray no agitation, Louis turned deadly pale. - -"Do you know this banker?" asked Gaston. - -"Only by reputation." - -"Then we can make his acquaintance together; for I intend accompanying -you to Paris, when you return there to settle up your affairs before -establishing yourself here to superintend the forge." - -At this unexpected announcement of a step which would prove his utter -ruin, Louis was stupefied. In answer to his brother's questioning -look, he gasped out. - -"You are going to Paris?" - -"Certainly I am. Why should I not go?" - -"There is no reason why." - -"I hate Paris, although I have never been there. But I am called there -by interest, by sacred duties," he hesitatingly said. "The truth is, I -understand that Mlle. de la Verberie lives in Paris, and I wish to see -her." - -"Ah!" - -Gaston was silent and thoughtful for some moments, and then said, -nervously: - -"I will tell you, Louis, why I wish to see her. I left our family -jewels in her charge, and I wish to recover them." - -"Do you intend, after a lapse of twenty-three years, to claim these -jewels?" - -"Yes--or rather no. I only make the jewels an excuse for seeing her. I -must see her because--because--she is the only woman I ever really -loved!" - -"But how will you find her?" - -"Oh! that is easy enough. Anyone can tell me the name of her husband, -and then I will go to see her. Perhaps the shortest way to find out, -would be to write to Beaucaire. I will do so to-morrow." - -Louis made no reply. - -Men of his character, when brought face to face with imminent danger, -always weigh their words, and say as little as possible, for fear of -committing themselves by some indiscreet remark. - -Above all things, Louis was careful to avoid raising any objections to -his brother's proposed trip to Paris. To oppose the wishes of a -determined man has the effect of making him adhere more closely to -them. Each argument is like striking a nail with a hammer. Knowing -this, Louis changed the conversation, and nothing more during the day -was said of Valentine or Paris. - -At night, alone in his room, he brought his cunning mind to bear upon -the difficulties of his situation, and wondered by what means he could -extricate himself. - -At first the case seemed hopeless, desperate. During twenty years, -Louis had been at war with society, trusted by none, living upon his -wits, and the credulity of foolish men enabling him to gain an income -without labor; and, though he generally attained his ends, it was not -without great danger and constant dread of detection. - -He had been caught at the gaming-table with his hands full of -duplicate cards; he had been tracked all over Europe by the police, -and obliged to fly from city to city under an assumed name; he had -sold to cowards his skilful handling of the sword and pistol; he had -been repeatedly thrown into prison, and always made his escape. He had -braved everything, and feared nothing. He had often conceived and -carried out the most criminal plans, without the slightest hesitation -or remorse. And now here he sat, utterly bewildered, unable to think -clearly; his usual impudence and ready cunning seemed to have deserted -him. - -Thus driven to the wall, he saw no means of escape, and was almost -tempted to confess all, and throw himself upon his brother's clemency. -Then he thought that it would be wiser to borrow a large sum from -Gaston, and fly the country. - -Vainly did he think over the wicked experiences of the past: none of -the former successful stratagems could be resorted to in the present -case. - -Fatally, inevitably, he was about to be caught in a trap laid by -himself. - -The future was fraught with danger, worse than danger--ruin and -disgrace. - -He had to fear the wrath of M. Fauvel, his wife and niece. Gaston -would have speedy vengeance the moment he discovered the truth; and -Raoul, his accomplice, would certainly turn against him, and become -his most implacable enemy. - -Was there no possible way of preventing a meeting between Valentine -and Gaston? - -None that he could think of. - -Their meeting would be his destruction. - -Lost in reflection, he paid no attention to the flight of time. -Daybreak still found him sitting at the window with his face buried in -his hands, trying to come to some definite conclusion what he should -say and do to keep Gaston away from Paris. - -"It is vain for me to think," he muttered. "The more I rack my brain, -the more confused it becomes. There is nothing to be done but gain -time, and wait for an opportunity." - -The fall of the horse at Clameran was what Louis called "an -opportunity." - -He closed the window, and, throwing himself upon the bed, was soon in -a sound sleep; being accustomed to danger, it never kept him awake. - -At the breakfast-table, his calm, smiling face bore no traces of a -wakeful, anxious night. - -He was in a gayer, more talkative mood than usual, and said he would -like to ride over the country, and visit the neighboring towns. Before -leaving the table, he had planned several excursions which were to -take place during the week. - -He hoped to keep Gaston so amused and occupied, that he would forget -all about going to Paris in search of Valentine. - -He thought that with time, and skilfully put objections, he could -dissuade his brother from seeking out his former love. He relied upon -being able to convince him that this absolutely unnecessary interview -would be painful to both, embarrassing to him, and dangerous to her. - -As to the jewels, if Gaston persisted in claiming them, Louis could -safely offer to go and get them for him, as he had only to redeem them -from the pawnbroker. - -But his hopes and plans were soon scattered to the winds. - -"You know," said Gaston, "I have written." - -Louis knew well enough to what he alluded, but pretended to be very -much surprised, and said: - -"Written? To whom? Where? For what?" - -"To Beaucaire, to ask Lafourcade the name of Valentine's husband." - -"You are still thinking of her?" - -"She is never absent from my thoughts." - -"You have not given up your idea of going to see her?" - -"Of course not." - -"Alas, Gaston! you forget that she whom you once loved is now the wife -of another, and possibly the mother of a large family. How do you know -that she will consent to see you? Why run the risk of destroying her -domestic happiness, and planting seeds of remorse in your own bosom?" - -"I know I am a fool; but my folly is dear to me, and I would not cure -it if I could." - -The quiet determination of Gaston's tone convinced Louis that all -remonstrances would be unavailing. - -Yet he remained the same in his manner and behavior, apparently -engrossed in pleasure parties; but, in reality, his only thought was -the mail. He always managed to be at the door when the postman came, -so that he was the first to receive his brother's letters. - -When he and Gaston were out together at the time of the postman's -visit, he would hurry into the house first, so as to look over the -letters which were always laid in a card-basket on the hall table. - -His watchfulness was at last rewarded. - -The following Sunday, among the letters handed to him by the postman, -was one bearing the postmark of Beaucaire. - -He quickly slipped it into his pocket; and, although he was on the -point of mounting his horse to ride with Gaston, he said that he must -run up to his room to get something he had forgotten; this was to -gratify his impatient desire to read the letter. - -He tore it open, and, seeing "Lafourcade" signed at the bottom of -three closely written pages, hastily devoured the contents. - -After reading a detailed account of events entirely uninteresting to -him, Louis came to the following passage relating to Valentine: - - - "Mlle. de la Verberie's husband is an eminent banker named Andre - Fauvel. I have not the honor of his acquaintance, but I intend - going to see him shortly. I am anxious to submit to him a project - that I have conceived for the benefit of this part of the country. - If he approves of it, I shall ask him to invest in it, as his name - will be of great assistance to the scheme. I suppose you have no - objections to my referring him to you, should he ask for my - indorsers." - - -Louis trembled like a man who had just made a narrow escape from -death. He well knew that he would have to fly the country if Gaston -received this letter. - -But though the danger was warded off for the while, it might return -and destroy him at any moment. - -Gaston would wait a week for an answer, then he would write again; -Lafourcade would instantly reply to express surprise that his first -letter had not been received; all of this correspondence would occupy -about twelve days. In those twelve days Louis would have to think over -some plan for preventing Lafourcade's visit to Paris; since, the -instant he mentioned the name of Clameran to the banker, everything -would be discovered. - -Louis's meditations were interrupted by Gaston, who called from the -lower passage: - -"What are you doing, Louis? I am waiting for you." - -"I am coming now," he replied. - -Hastily thrusting Lafourcade's letter into his trunk, Louis ran down -to his brother. - -He had made up his mind to borrow a large sum from Gaston, and go off -to America; and Raoul might get out of the scrape as best he could. - -The only thing which now disturbed him was the sudden failure of the -most skilful combination he had ever conceived; but he was not a man -to fight against destiny, and determined to make the best of the -emergency, and hope for better fortune in his next scheme. - -The next day about dusk, while walking along the pretty road leading -from the foundery to Oloron, he commenced a little story which was to -conclude by asking Gaston to lend him two hundred thousand francs. - -As they slowly went along arm in arm, about half a mile from the -foundery they met a young laborer who bowed as he passed them. - -Louis dropped his brother's arm, and started back as if he had seen a -ghost. - -"What is the matter?" asked Gaston, with astonishment. - -"Nothing, except I struck my foot against a stone, and it is very -painful." - -Gaston might have known by the tremulous tones of Louis's voice that -this was a lie. Louis de Clameran had reason to tremble; in this -workman he recognized Raoul de Lagors. - -Instinctive fear paralyzed and overwhelmed him. - -The story he had planned for the purpose of obtaining the two hundred -thousand francs was forgotten; his volubility was gone; and he -silently walked along by his brother's side, like an automaton, -totally incapable of thinking or acting for himself. - -He seemed to listen, he did listen; but the words fell upon his ear -unmeaningly; he could not understand what Gaston was saying, and -mechanically answered "yes" or "no," like one in a dream. - -Whilst necessity, absolute necessity, kept him here at Gaston's side, -his thoughts were all with the young man who had just passed by. - -What had brought Raoul to Oloron? What plot was he hatching? Why was -he disguised as a laborer? Why had he not answered the many letters -which Louis had written him from Oloron? He had ascribed this silence -to Raoul's carelessness, but now he saw it was premeditated. Something -disastrous must have happened at Paris; and Raoul, afraid to commit -himself by writing, had come himself to bring the bad news. Had he -come to say that the game was up, and they must fly? - -But, after all, perhaps he was mistaken in supposing this to be his -accomplice. It might be some honest workman bearing a strong -resemblance to Raoul. - -If he could only run after this stranger, and speak to him! But no, he -must walk on up to the house with Gaston, quietly, as if nothing had -happened to arouse his anxiety. He felt as if he would go mad if his -brother did not move faster; the uncertainty was becoming intolerable. - -His mind filled with these perplexing thoughts, Louis at last reached -the house; and Gaston, to his great relief, said that he was so tired -that he was going directly to bed. - -At last he was free! - -He lit a cigar, and, telling the servant not to sit up for him, went -out. - -He knew that Raoul, if it was Raoul, would be prowling near the house, -waiting for him. - -His suspicions were well founded. - -He had barely proceeded thirty yards, when a man suddenly sprang from -behind a tree, and stood before him. - -The night was clear, and Louis recognized Raoul. - -"What is the matter?" he impatiently demanded; "what has happened?" - -"Nothing." - -"What! Do you mean to say that nothing has gone wrong in Paris--that -no one is on our track?" - -"Not the slightest danger of any sort. And moreover, but for your -inordinate greed of gain, everything would have succeeded admirably; -all was going on well when I left Paris." - -"Then why have you come here?" cried Louis fiercely. "Who gave you -permission to desert your post, when your absence might bring ruin -upon us? What brought you here?" - -"That is my business," said Raoul with cool impertinence. - -Louis seized the young man's wrists, and almost crushed them in his -vicelike grasp. - -"Explain this strange conduct of yours," he said, in a tone of -suppressed rage. "What do you mean by it?" - -Without apparent effort Raoul released his hands from their -imprisonment, and jeeringly said: - -"Hein! Gently, my friend! I don't like being roughly treated; and, if -you don't know how to behave yourself, I have the means of teaching -you." - -At the same time he drew a revolver from his pocket. - -"You must and shall explain yourself," insisted Louis: "if you -don't----" - -"Well, if I don't? Now, you might just as well spare yourself the -trouble of trying to frighten me. I intend to answer your questions -when I choose; but it certainly won't be here, in the middle of the -road, with the bright moonlight showing us off to advantage. How do -you know people are not watching us this very minute? Come this way." - -They strode through the fields, regardless of Gaston's plants, which -were trampled under foot in order to take a short cut. - -"Now," began Raoul, when they were at a safe distance from the road, -"now, my dear uncle, I will tell you what brings me here. I have -received and carefully read your letters. I read them over again. You -wished to be prudent; and the consequence was, that your letters were -unintelligible. Only one thing did I understand clearly: we are in -danger." - -"Only the more reason for your watchfulness and obedience." - -"Very well put: only, before braving danger, my venerable and beloved -uncle, I want to know its extent. I am not a man to retreat in the -hour of peril, but I want to know exactly how much risk I am running." - -"I told you to keep quiet, and follow my directions." - -"But to do this would imply that I have perfect confidence in you, my -dear uncle," said Raoul, sneeringly. - -"And why should you not? What reasons for distrust have you after all -that I have done for you? Who went to London, and rescued you from a -state of privation and ignominy? I did. Who gave you a name and -position when you had neither? I did. And who is working now to -maintain your present life of ease, and insure you a splendid future? -I am. And how do you repay me?" - -"Superb, magnificent, inimitable!" said Raoul, with mocking derision. -"But, while on the subject, why don't you prove that you have -sacrificed yourself for my sake? You did not need me as a tool for -carrying out plans for your own benefit; did you? oh no, not at all! -Dear, kind, generous, disinterested uncle! You ought to have the -Montyon prize; I think I must recommend you as the most deserving -person I have ever met!" - -Clameran was so angry at these jeering words that he feared to trust -himself to speak. - -"Now, my good uncle," continued Raoul more seriously, "we had better -end this child's play, and come to a clear understanding. I follow you -here, because I thoroughly understand your character, and have just as -much confidence in you as you deserve, and not a particle more. If it -were for your advantage to ruin me, you would not hesitate one -instant. If danger threatened us, you would fly alone, and leave your -dutiful nephew to make his escape the best way he could. Oh! don't -look shocked, and pretend to deny it; your conduct is perfectly -natural, and in your place I would act the same way. Only remember -this, that I am not a man to be trifled with. Now let us cease these -unnecessary recriminations, and come to the point: what is your -present plan?" - -Louis saw that his accomplice was too shrewd to be deceived, and that -the safest course was to trust all to him, and to pretend that he had -intended doing so all along. - -Without any show of anger, he briefly and clearly related all that had -occurred at his brother's. - -He told the truth about everything except the amount of his brother's -fortune, the importance of which he lessened as much as possible. - -"Well," said Raoul, when the report was ended, "we are in a nice fix. -And do you expect to get out of it?" - -"Yes, if you don't betray me." - -"I wish you to understand, marquis, that I have never betrayed anyone -yet; don't judge me by yourself, I beg. What steps will you take to -get free of this entanglement?" - -"I don't know; but something will turn up. Oh, don't be alarmed; I'll -find some means of escape: so you can return home with your mind at -rest. You run no risk in Paris, and 'tis the best place for you. I -will stay here to watch Gaston." - -Raoul reflected for some moments, and then said: - -"Are you sure I am not in danger at Paris?" - -"What are you afraid of? We have Mme. Fauvel so completely in our -power that she would not dare speak a word against you; even if she -knew the whole truth, what no one but you and I know, she would not -open her lips, but be only too glad to hush up matters so as to escape -punishment for her fault from her deceived husband and a censuring -world." - -"I know we have a secure hold on her," said Raoul. "I am not afraid of -her giving any trouble." - -"Who, then?" - -"An enemy of your own making, my respected uncle; a most implacable -enemy--Madeleine." - -"Fiddlesticks!" replied Clameran, disdainfully. - -"It is very well for you to treat her with contempt," said Raoul, -gravely; "but I can tell you, you are much mistaken in your estimate -of her character. I have studied her lately, and see that she is -devoted to her aunt, and ready to make any sacrifice to insure her -happiness. But she has no idea of doing anything blindly, of throwing -herself away if she can avoid it. She has promised to marry you. -Prosper is broken-hearted at being discarded, it is true; but he has -not given up hope. You imagine her to be weak and yielding, easily -frightened? It's a great mistake. She is self-reliant and fearless. -More than that, she is in love, my good uncle; and a woman will defend -her lover as a tigress defends her young. She will fight to the bitter -end before marrying anyone save Prosper." - -"She is worth five hundred thousand francs." - -"So she is; and at five per cent we would each have an income of -twelve thousand five hundred francs. But, for all that, you had better -take my advice, and give up Madeleine." - -"Never; I swear by Heaven!" exclaimed Clameran. "Rich or poor, she -shall be mine! I first wanted her money, but now I want her; I love -her for herself, Raoul!" - -Raoul seemed to be amazed at this declaration of his uncle. - -He raised his hands, and started back with astonishment. - -"Is it possible," he said, "that you are in love with Madeleine?-- -you!" - -"Yes," replied Louis, sullenly. "Is there anything so very -extraordinary in it?" - -"Oh, no, certainly not! only this sentimental view of the matter -explains your strange behavior. Alas, you love Madeleine! Then, my -venerable uncle, we might as well surrender at once." - -"Why so?" - -"Because you know the axiom, 'When the heart is interested the head is -lost.' Generals in love always lose their battles. The day is not far -off when your infatuation of Madeleine will make you sell us both for -a smile. And, mark my words, she is shrewd, and watching us as only an -enemy can watch." - -With a forced laugh Clameran interrupted his nephew. - -"Just see how you fire up for no cause," he said; "you must dislike -the charming Madeleine very much, if you abuse her in this way." - -"She will prove to be our ruin: that is all." - -"You might as well be frank, and say you are in love with her -yourself." - -"I am only in love with her money," replied Raoul, with an angry -frown. - -"Then what are you complaining of? I shall give you half her fortune. -You will have the money without being troubled with the wife; the -profit without the burden." - -"I am not over fifty years old," said Raoul conceitedly. "I can -appreciate a pretty woman better than you." - -"Enough of that," interrupted Louis angrily. "The day I relieved your -pressing wants, and brought you to Paris, you promised to follow my -directions, to help me carry out my plan; did you not?" - -"Yes; but not the plot you are hatching now! You forget that my -liberty, perhaps my life, is at stake. You may hold the cards, but I -must have the right of advising you." - -It was midnight before the accomplices separated. - -"I won't stand idle," said Louis. "I agree with you that something -must be done at once. But I can't decide what it shall be on the spur -of the moment. Meet me here at this hour to-morrow night, and I will -have some plan ready for you." - -"Very good. I will be here." - -"And remember, don't be imprudent!" - -"My costume ought to convince you that I am not anxious to be -recognized by anyone. I left such an ingenious alibi, that I defy -anybody to prove that I have been absent from my house at Vesinet. I -even took the precaution to travel in a third-class car. Well, good- -night. I am going to the inn." - -Raoul went off after these words, apparently unconscious of having -aroused suspicion in the breast of his accomplice. - -During his adventurous life, Clameran had transacted "business" with -too many scamps not to know the precise amount of confidence to place -in a man like Raoul. - -The old adage, "Honor among thieves," seldom holds good after the -"stroke." There is always a quarrel over the division of the spoils. - -This distrustful Clameran foresaw a thousand difficulties and counter- -plots to be guarded against in his dealings with Raoul. - -"Why," he pondered, "did the villain assume this disguise? Why this -alibi at Paris? Can he be laying a trap for me? It is true that I have -a hold upon him; but then I am completely at his mercy. Those accursed -letters which I have written to him, while here, are so many proofs -against me. Can he be thinking of cutting loose from me, and making -off with all the profits of our enterprise?" - -Louis never once during the night closed his eyes; but by daybreak he -had fully made up his mind how to act, and with feverish impatience -waited for evening to come, to communicate his views with Raoul. - -His anxiety made him so restless that the unobserving Gaston finally -noticed it, and asked him what the matter was; if he was sick, or -troubled about anything. - -At last evening came, and, at the appointed hour, Louis went to the -field where they had met the night previous, and found Raoul lying on -the grass smoking a fragrant cigar, as if he had no other object in -life except to blow little clouds of smoke in the air, and count the -stars in the clear sky above him. - -"Well?" he carelessly said, as Louis approached, "have you decided -upon anything?" - -"Yes. I have two projects, either of which would probably accomplish -our object." - -"I am listening." - -Louis was silently thoughtful for a minute, as if arranging his -thoughts so as to present them as clearly and briefly as possible. - -"My first plan," he began, "depends upon your approval. What would you -say, if I proposed to you to renounce the affair altogether?" - -"What!" - -"Would you consent to disappear, leave France, and return to London, -if I paid you a good round sum?" - -"What do you call a good round sum?" - -"I will give you a hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -"My respected uncle," said Raoul with a contemptuous shrug, "I am -distressed to see how little you know me! You try to deceive me, to -outwit me, which is ungenerous and foolish on your part; ungenerous, -because it fails to carry out our agreement; foolish, because as you -know well enough, my power equals yours." - -"I don't understand you." - -"I am sorry for it. I understand myself, and that is sufficient. Oh! I -understand you, my dear uncle. I have watched you with careful eyes, -which are not to be deceived; I see through you clearly. If you offer -me one hundred and fifty thousand francs, it is because you intend to -walk off with half a million for yourself." - -"You are talking like a fool," said Clameran with virtuous -indignation. - -"Not at all; I only judge the future by the past. Of all the large -sums extorted from Mme. Fauvel, often against my wishes, I never -received a tenth part." - -"But you know we have a reserve fund." - -"All very good; but you have the keeping of it, my good uncle. It is -very nice for you, but not so funny for me. If our little plot were to -be discovered to-morrow, you would walk off with the money-box, and -leave your devoted nephew to be sent to prison." - -"Ingrate!" muttered Louis, as if distressed at these undeserved -reproaches of his protege. - -"You have hit on the very word I was trying to remember," cried Raoul: -"'ingrate' is the name that just suits you. But we have not time for -this nonsense. I will end the matter by proving how you have been -trying to deceive me." - -"I would like to hear you do so if you can." - -"Very good. In the first place, you told me that your brother only -possessed a modest competency. Now, I learn that Gaston has an income -of at least sixty thousand francs. It is useless for you to deny it; -and how much is this property worth? A hundred thousand crowns. He had -four hundred thousand francs deposited in M. Fauvel's bank. Total, -seven hundred thousand francs. And, besides all this, the broker in -Oloron has orders to buy up a large amount of stocks and railroad -shares, which will require large cash payments. I have not wasted my -day, you see, and have obtained all the information I came for." - -Raoul's information was too concise and exact for Louis to deny it. - -"You might have sense enough," Raoul went on, "to know how to manage -your forces if you undertake to be a commander. We had a splendid game -in our hands; and you, who held the cards, have made a perfect muddle -of it." - -"I think--" - -"That the game is lost? That is my opinion too, and all through you. -You have no one to blame but yourself." - -"I could not control events." - -"Yes, you could, if you had been shrewd. Fools sit down and wait for -an opportunity; sensible men make one. What did we agree upon in -London? We were to implore my good mother to assist us a little, and, -if she complied with our wishes, we were to be flattering and -affectionate in our devotion to her. And what was the result? At the -risk of killing the golden goose, you have made me torment the poor -woman until she is almost crazy." - -"It was prudent to hasten matters." - -"You think so, do you? Was it also to hasten matters that you took it -into your head to marry Madeleine? That made it necessary to let her -into the secret; and, ever since, she has advised and set her aunt -against us. I would not be surprised if she makes her confess -everything to M. Fauvel, or even inform against us at the police- -office." - -"I love Madeleine!" - -"You told me that before. And suppose you do love her. You led me into -this piece of business without having studied its various bearings, -without knowing what you were about. No one but an idiot, my beloved -uncle, would go and put his foot into a trap, and then say, 'If I had -only known about it!' You should have made it your business to know -everything. You came to me, and said, 'Your father is dead,' which was -a lie to start with; perhaps you call it a mistake. He is living; and, -after what we have done, I dare not appear before him. He would have -left me a million, and now I shall not get a sou. He will find his -Valentine, and then good-by." - -"Enough!" angrily interrupted Louis. "If I have made a mistake, I know -how to redeem it. I can save everything yet." - -"You can? How so?" - -"That is my secret," said Louis gloomily. - -Louis and Raoul were silent for a minute. And this silence between -them, in this lonely spot, at dead of night, was so horribly -significant that both of them shuddered. - -An abominable thought had flashed across their evil minds, and without -a word or look they understood each other. - -Louis broke the ominous silence, by abruptly saying: - -"Then you refuse to disappear if I pay you a hundred and fifty -thousand francs? Think it over before deciding: it is not too late -yet." - -"I have fully thought it over. I know you will not attempt to deceive -me any more. Between certain ease, and the probability of an immense -fortune, I choose the latter at all risks. I will share your success -or your failure. We will swim or sink together." - -"And you will follow my instructions?" - -"Blindly." - -Raoul must have been very certain of Louis's intentions of resorting -to the most dangerous extremities, must have known exactly what he -intended to do; for he did not ask him a single question. Perhaps he -dared not. Perhaps he preferred doubt to shocking certainty, as if he -could thus escape the remorse attendant upon criminal complicity. - -"In the first place," said Louis, "you must at once return to Paris." - -"I will be there in forty-eight hours." - -"You must be very intimate at Mme. Fauvel's, and keep me informed of -everything that takes place in the family." - -"I understand." - -Louis laid his hand upon Raoul's shoulder, as if to impress upon his -mind what he was about to say. - -"You have a sure means of being restored to your mother's confidence -and affection, by blaming me for everything that has happened to -distress her. Abuse me constantly. The more odious you render me in -her eyes and those of Madeleine, the better you will serve me. Nothing -would please me more than to be denied admittance to the house when I -return to Paris. You must say that you have quarrelled with me, and -that, if I still come to see you, it is because you cannot prevent it, -and you will never voluntarily have any intercourse with me. That is -the scheme; you can develop it." - -Raoul listened to these strange instructions with astonishment. - -"What!" he cried: "you adore Madeleine, and take this means of showing -it? An odd way of carrying on a courtship, I must confess. I will be -shot if I can comprehend." - -"There is no necessity for your comprehending." - -"All right," said Raoul submissively; "if you say so." - -Then Louis reflected that no one could properly execute a commission -without having at least an idea of its nature. - -"Did you ever hear," he asked Raoul, "of the man who burnt down his -lady-love's house so as to have the bliss of carrying her out in his -arms?" - -"Yes: what of it?" - -"At the proper time, I will charge you to set fire, morally, to Mme. -Fauvel's house; and I will rush in, and save her and her niece. Now, -in the eyes of those women my conduct will appear more magnanimous and -noble in proportion to the contempt and abuse they have heaped upon -me. I gain nothing by patient devotion: I have everything to hope from -a sudden change of tactics. A well-managed stroke will transform a -demon into an angel." - -"Very well, a good idea!" said Raoul approvingly, when his uncle had -finished. - -"Then you understand what is to be done?" - -"Yes, but will you write to me?" - -"Of course; and if anything should happen at Paris----" - -"I will telegraph to you." - -"And never lose sight of my rival, the cashier." - -"Prosper? not much danger of our being troubled by him, poor boy! He -is just now my most devoted friend. Trouble has driven him into a path -of life which will soon prove his destruction. Every now and then I -pity him from the bottom of my soul." - -"Pity him as much as you like; but don't interfere with his -dissipation." - -The two men shook hands, and separated apparently the best friends in -the world; in reality the bitterest enemies. - -Raoul would not forgive Louis for having attempted to appropriate all -the booty, and leave him in the lurch, when it was he who had risked -the greatest dangers. - -Louis, on his part, was alarmed at the attitude taken by Raoul. Thus -far he had found his nephew tractable, and even blindly obedient; and -now he had suddenly become rebellious and threatening. Instead of -ordering Raoul, he was forced to consult and bargain with him. - -What could be more wounding to his vanity and self-conceit than the -reproaches, well founded though they were, to which he had been -obliged to listen, from a mere youth? - -As he walked back to his brother's house, thinking over what had just -occurred, Louis swore that sooner or later he would be revenged, and -that, as soon as he could get rid of Raoul he would do so, and would -do him some great injury. - -But, for the present, he was so afraid lest the young villain should -betray him, or thwart his plans in some way, that he wrote to him the -next day, and every succeeding day, full particulars of everything -that happened. Seeing how important it was to restore his shaken -confidence, Louis entered into the most minute details of his plans, -and asked Raoul's advice about every step he took. - -The situation remained the same. The dark cloud remained threateningly -near, but grew no larger. - -Gaston seemed to have forgotten that he had written to Beaucaire, and -never mentioned Valentine's name once. - -Like all men accustomed to a busy life, Gaston was miserable except -when occupied, and spent his whole time in the foundery, which seemed -to absorb him entirely. - -When he began the experiment of felling the woods, his losses had been -heavy; but he determined to continue the work until it should be -equally beneficial to himself and the neighboring land-owners. - -He engaged the services of an intelligent engineer, and thanks to -untiring energy, and the new improvements in machinery, his profits -soon more than equalled his expenses. - -"Now that we are doing so well," said Gaston joyously, "we shall -certainly make twenty-five thousand francs next year." - -Next year! Alas, poor Gaston! - -Five days after Raoul's departure, one Saturday afternoon, Gaston was -suddenly taken ill. - -He had a sort of vertigo, and was so dizzy that he was forced to lie -down. - -"I know what is the matter," he said. "I have often been ill in this -way at Rio. A couple of hours' sleep will cure me. I will go to bed, -and you can send someone to awaken me when dinner is ready, Louis; I -shall be all right by that time." - -But, when the servant came to announce dinner, he found Gaston much -worse. He had a violent headache, a choking sensation in his throat, -and dimness of vision. But his worst symptom was dysphonia; he would -try to articulate one word, and find himself using another. His jaw- -bones became so stiff that it was with the greatest difficulty that he -opened his mouth. - -Louis came up to his brother's room, and urged him to send for the -physician. - -"No," said Gaston, "I won't have any doctor to make me ill with all -sorts of medicines; I know what is the matter with me, and my -indisposition will be cured by a simple remedy which I have always -used." - -At the same time he ordered Manuel, his old Spanish servant, who had -lived with him for ten years, to prepare him some lemonade. - -The next day Gaston appeared to be much better. He ate his breakfast, -and was about to take a walk, when the pains of the previous day -suddenly returned, in a more violent form. - -Without consulting his brother, Louis sent to Oloron for Dr. C----, -whose wonderful cures at Eaux Bonnes had won him a wide reputation. - -The doctor declared that there was no danger, and merely prescribed a -dose of valerian, and a blister with some grains of morphine sprinkled -on it. - -But in the middle of the night, all the symptoms suddenly changed for -the worse. The pain in the head was succeeded by a fearful oppression, -and the sick man suffered torture in trying to get his breath; -daybreak found him still tossing restlessly from pillow to pillow. - -When Dr. C---- came early in the morning, he appeared very much -surprised at this change for the worse. He inquired if they had not -administered an overdose of morphine. Manuel said that he had put the -blister on his master, and the doctor's directions had been accurately -followed. - -The doctor, after having examined Gaston, and found his breathing -heavy and irregular, prescribed a heavy dose of sulphate of quinine; -he then retired, saying he would return the next day. - -As soon as the doctor had gone, Gaston sent for a friend of his, a -lawyer, to come to him as soon as possible. - -"For Heaven's sake, what do you want with a lawyer?" inquired Louis. - -"I want his advice, brother. It is useless to try and deceive -ourselves; I know I am extremely ill. Only timid fools are -superstitious about making their wills; if I defer it any longer, I -may be suddenly taken without having arranged my affairs. I would -rather have the lawyer at once, and then my mind will be at rest." - -Gaston did not think he was about to die, but, knowing the uncertainty -of life, determined to be prepared for the worst; he had too often -imperilled his life, and been face to face with death, to feel any -fear now. - -He had made his will while ill at Bordeaux; but, now that he had found -Louis, he wished to leave him all his property, and sent for his -business man to advise as to the best means of disposing of his wealth -for his benefit. - -The lawyer was a shrewd, wiry little man, very popular because he had -a faculty for always gaining suits which other attorneys had lost, or -declined to try, because of their groundlessness. Being perfectly -familiar with all the intricacies of the law, nothing delighted him -more than to succeed in eluding some stringent article of the code; -and often he sacrificed large fees for the sake of outwitting his -opponent, and controverting the justness of a decision. - -Once aware of his client's wishes and intentions, he had but one idea: -and that was, to carry them out as inexpensively as possible, by -skilfully evading the heavy costs to be paid by the inheritor of an -estate. - -He explained to Gaston that he could, by an act of partnership, -associate Louis in his business enterprises, by signing an -acknowledgment that half of the money invested in these various -concerns, belonged to and had been advanced by his brother; so that, -in the event of Gaston's death, Louis would only have to pay taxes on -half the fortune. - -Gaston eagerly took advantage of this fiction; not that he thought of -the money saved by the transaction if he died, but this would be a -favorable opportunity for sharing his riches with Louis, without -wounding his delicate sensibility. - -A deed of partnership between Gaston and Louis de Clameran, for the -working of a cast-iron mill, was drawn up; this deed acknowledged -Louis to have invested five hundred thousand francs as his share of -the capital; therefore half of the iron-works was his in his own -right. - -When Louis was called in to sign the paper, he violently opposed his -brother's project. - -"Why do you distress me by making these preparations for death, merely -because you are suffering from a slight indisposition? Do you think -that I would consent to accept your wealth during your lifetime? If -you die, I am your heir; if you live, I enjoy your property as if it -were my own. What more can you wish? Pray do not draw up any papers; -let things remain as they are, and turn all your attention to getting -well." - -Vain remonstrances. Gaston was not a man to be persuaded from -accomplishing a purpose upon which he had fully set his heart. When, -after mature deliberation, he made a resolution, he always carried it -out in spite of all opposition. - -After a long and heroic resistance, which betrayed great nobleness of -character and rare disinterestedness, Louis, urged by the physician, -finally yielded, and signed his name to the papers drawn up by the -lawyer. - -It was done. Now he was legally Gaston's partner, and possessor of -half his fortune. No court of law could deprive him of what had been -deeded with all the legal formalities, even if his brother should -change his mind and try to get back his property. - -The strangest sensations now filled Louis's breast. - -He was in a state of delirious excitement often felt by persons -suddenly raised from poverty to affluence. - -Whether Gaston lived or died, Louis was the lawful possessor of an -income of twenty-five thousand francs, without counting the eventual -profits of the iron-works. - -At no time in his life had he hoped for or dreamed of such wealth. His -wildest wishes were surpassed. What more could he want? - -Alas! he wanted the power of enjoying these riches; they had come too -late. - -This fortune, fallen from the skies, should have filled his heart with -joy; whereas it only made him melancholy and angry. - -This unlooked-for happiness seemed to have been sent by cruel fate as -a punishment for his past sins. What could be more terrible than -seeing this haven of rest open to him, and to be prevented from -enjoying it because of his own vile plottings? - -Although his conscience told him that he deserved this misery, he -blamed Gaston entirely for his present torture. Yes, he held Gaston -responsible for the horrible situation in which he found himself. - -His letters to Raoul for several days expressed all the fluctuations -of his mind, and revealed glimpses of coming evil. - -"I have twenty-five thousand livres a year," he wrote to him, a few -hours after signing the agreement of partnership; "and I possess in my -own right five hundred thousand francs. One-fourth of this sum would -have made me the happiest of men a year ago. Now it is of no use to -me. All the gold on earth could not remove one of the difficulties of -our situation. Yes, you were right. I have been imprudent; but I pay -dear for my precipitation. We are now going down hill so rapidly that -nothing can save us; we must fall to the very bottom. To attempt -stopping half way would be madness. Rich or poor, I have cause to -tremble as long as there is any risk of a meeting between Gaston and -Valentine. How can they be kept apart? Will my brother renounce his -plan of discovering the whereabouts of this woman whom he so loved?" - -No; Gaston would never be turned from his search for his first love, -as he proved by calling for her in the most beseeching tones when he -was suffering his worst paroxysms of pain. - -He grew no better. In spite of the most careful nursing his symptoms -changed, but showed no improvement. - -Each attack was more violent than the preceding. - -Toward the end of the week the pains left his head, and he felt well -enough to get up and partake of a slight nourishment. - -But poor Gaston was a mere shadow of his former self. In one week he -had aged ten years. His strong constitution was broken. He, who ten -days ago was boasting of his vigorous health, was now weak and bent -like an old man. He could hardly drag himself along, and shivered in -the warm sun as if he were bloodless. - -Leaning on Louis's arm, he slowly walked down to look at the forge, -and, seating himself before a furnace at full blast, he declared that -he felt very much better, that this intense heat revived him. - -His pains were all gone, and he could breathe without difficulty. - -His spirits rose, and he turned to the workmen gathered around, and -said cheerfully: - -"I was not blessed with a good constitution for nothing, my friends, -and I shall soon be well again." - -When the neighbors called to see him, and insisted that this illness -was entirely owing to change of climate, Gaston replied that he -supposed they were right, and that he would return to Rio as soon as -he was well enough to travel. - -What hope this answer roused in Louis's breast! - -"Yes," he eagerly said, "I will go with you; a trip to Brazil would be -charming! Let us start at once." - -But the next day Gaston had changed his mind. - -He told Louis that he felt almost well, and was determined not to -leave France. He proposed going to Paris to consult the best -physicians; and then he would see Valentine. - -That night he grew worse. - -As his illness increased, he became more surprised and troubled at not -hearing from Beaucaire. - -He wrote again in the most pressing terms, and sent the letter by a -courier who was to wait for the answer. - -This letter was never received by Lafourcade. - -At midnight, Gaston's sufferings returned with renewed violence, and -for the first time Dr. C---- was uneasy. - -A fatal termination seemed inevitable. Gaston's pain left him in a -measure, but he was growing weaker every moment. His mind wandered, -and his feet were as cold as ice. On the fourteenth day of his -illness, after lying in a stupor for several hours, he revived -sufficiently to ask for a priest, saying that he would follow the -example of his ancestors, and die like a Christian. - -The priest left him after half an hour's interview, and all the -workmen were summoned to receive the farewell greeting of their -master. - -Gaston spoke a few kind words to them all, saying that he had provided -for them in his will. - -After they had gone, he made Louis promise to carry on the iron-works, -embraced him for the last time, and sank back on his pillow in a dying -state. - -As the bell tolled for noon he quietly breathed his last, murmuring, -softly, "In three years, Valentine; wait for me." - -Now Louis was in reality Marquis of Clameran, and besides he was a -millionaire. - -Two weeks later, having made arrangements with the engineer in charge -of the iron-works to attend to everything during his absence, he took -his seat in the train for Paris. - -He had sent the following significant telegram to Raoul the night -previous: "I will see you to-morrow." - - - -XIX - -Faithful to the programme laid down by his accomplice, while Louis -watched at Oloron, Raoul remained in Paris with the purpose of -recovering the confidence and affection of Mme. Fauvel, and of lulling -any suspicions which might arise in her breast. - -The task was difficult, but not impossible. - -Mme. Fauvel had been distressed by Raoul's wild extravagance, but had -never ceased to love him. - -Whatever faults he had committed, whatever future follies he might -indulge in, he would always remain her best-loved child, her first- -born, the living image of her noble, handsome Gaston, the lover of her -youth. - -She adored her two sons, Lucien and Abel; but she could not overcome -an indulgent weakness for the unfortunate child, torn from her arms -the day of his birth, abandoned to the mercies of hired strangers, and -for twenty years deprived of home influences and a mother's love. - -She blamed herself for Raoul's misconduct, and accepted the -responsibility of his sins, saying to herself, "It is my fault. But -for me, he would not have been exposed to the temptations of the -world." - -Knowing these to be her sentiments, Raoul did not hesitate to take -advantage of them. - -Never were more irresistible fascinations employed for the -accomplishment of a wicked object. Beneath an air of innocent -frankness, this precocious scoundrel concealed wonderful astuteness -and penetration. He could at will adorn himself with the confiding -artlessness of youth, so that angels might have yielded to the soft -look of his large dark eyes. There were few women living who could -have resisted the thrilling tones of his sympathetic voice. - -During the month of Louis's absence, Mme. Fauvel was in a state of -comparative happiness. - -Never had this mother and wife--this pure, innocent woman, in spite of -her first and only fault--enjoyed such tranquillity. She felt as one -under the influence of enchantment, while revelling in the sunshine of -filial love, which almost bore the character of a lover's passion; for -Raoul's devotion was ardent and constant, his manner so tender and -winning, that anyone would have taken him for Mme. Fauvel's suitor. - -As she was still at her country-seat, and M. Fauvel went into the city -every morning at nine o'clock, and did not return till six, she had -the whole of her time to devote to Raoul. When she had spent the -morning with him at his house in Vesinet, she would often bring him -home to dine and spend the evening with her. - -All his past faults were forgiven, or rather the whole blame of them -was laid upon Clameran; for, now that he was absent, had not Raoul -once more become her noble, generous, affectionate son, the pride and -consolation of her life? - -Raoul enjoyed the life he was leading, and took such an interest in -the part that he was playing, that his acting was perfect. He -possessed the faculty which makes cheats successful, faith in his own -impostures. Sometimes he would stop to think whether he was telling -the truth, or acting a shameful comedy. - -His success was wonderful. Even Madeleine, the prudent, distrustful -Madeleine, without being able to shake off her prejudice against the -young adventurer, confessed that perhaps she had been influenced by -appearances, and had judged unjustly. - -Raoul not only never asked for money, but even refused it when -offered; saying that, now that his uncle was away, his expenses were -but trifling. - -Affairs were in this happy state when Louis arrived from Oloron. - -Although now immensely rich, he resolved to make no change in his -style of living, but returned to his apartments at the Hotel du -Louvre. - -His only outlay was the purchase of a handsome carriage; and this was -driven by Manuel, who consented to enter his service, although Gaston -had left him a handsome little fortune, more than sufficient to -support him comfortably. - -Louis's dream, the height of his ambition, was to be ranked among the -great manufacturers of France. - -He was prouder of being called "iron-founder" than of his marquisate. - -During his adventurous life, he had met with so many titled gamblers -and cut-throats, that he no longer believed in the prestige of -nobility. It was impossible to distinguish the counterfeit from the -genuine. He thought what was so easily imitated was not worth the -having. - -Dearly bought experience had taught him that our unromantic century -attaches no value to armorial bearings, unless their possessor is rich -enough to display them upon a splendid coach. - -One can be a marquis without a marquisate, but it is impossible to be -a forge-master without owning iron-works. - -Louis now thirsted for the homage of the world. All the badly digested -humiliations of the past weighed upon him. - -He had suffered so much contempt and scorn from his fellow-men, that -he burned to avenge himself. After a disgraceful youth, he longed to -live a respected and honored old age. - -His past career disturbed him little. He was sufficiently acquainted -with the world to know that the noise of his coach-wheels would -silence the jeers of those who knew his former life. - -These thoughts fermented in Louis's brain as he journeyed from Pau to -Paris. He troubled his mind not in the least about Raoul, determined -to use him as a tool so long as he needed his services, and then pay -him a large sum if he would go back to England. - -All these plans and thoughts were afterward found noted down in the -diary which he had in his pocket at the time of the journey. - -The first interview between the accomplices took place at the Hotel du -Louvre. - -Raoul, having a practical turn of mind, said he thought that they both -ought to be contented with the result already obtained, and that it -would be folly to try and grasp anything more. - -"What more do we want?" he asked his uncle. "We now possess over a -million; let us divide it and keep quiet. We had better be satisfied -with our good luck, and not tempt Providence." - -But this moderation did not suit Louis. - -"I am rich," he replied, "but I desire more than wealth. I am -determined to marry Madeleine: I swear she shall be my wife! In the -first place, I madly love her, and then, as the nephew of the most -eminent banker in Paris, I at once gain high position and public -consideration." - -"I tell you, uncle, your courtship will involve you in great risks." - -"I don't care if it does. I choose to run them. My intention is to -share my fortune with you; but I will not do so till the day after my -wedding. Madeleine's fortune will then be yours." - -Raoul was silent. Clameran held the money, and was therefore master of -the situation. - -"You don't seem to anticipate any difficulty in carrying out your -wishes," he said discontentedly; "how are you to account for your -suddenly acquired fortune? M. Fauvel knows that a Clameran lived at -Oloron, and had money in his bank. You tell him that you never heard -of this person bearing your name, and then, at the end of the month, -you come and say that you have inherited his fortune. People don't -inherit fortunes from perfect strangers; so you had better trump up -some relationship." - -"You are an innocent youth, nephew; your ingenuousness is amusing." - -"Explain yourself." - -"Certainly. The banker, his wife, and Madeleine must be informed that -the Clameran of Oloron was a natural son of my father, consequently my -brother, born at Hamburg, and recognized during the emigration. Of -course, he wished to leave his fortune to his own family. This is the -story which you must tell Mme. Fauvel to-morrow." - -"That is a bold step to take." - -"How so?" - -"Inquiries might be made." - -"Who would make them? The banker would not trouble himself to do so. -What difference is it to him whether I had a brother or not? My title -as heir is legally authenticated; and all he has to do is to pay the -money he holds, and there his business ends." - -"I am not afraid of his giving trouble." - -"Do you think that Mme. Fauvel and her niece will ask any questions? -Why should they? They have no grounds for suspicion. Besides, they -cannot take a step without compromising themselves. If they knew all -our secrets I would not have the least fear of their making -revelations. They have sense enough to know that they had best keep -quiet." - -Not finding any other objections to make, Raoul said: - -"Very well, then, I obey you; but I am not to call upon Mme. Fauvel -for any more money, am I?" - -"And why not, pray?" - -"Because, my uncle, you are rich now." - -"Suppose I am rich," replied Louis, triumphantly; "what is that to -you? Have we not quarrelled about the means of making this money? and -did you not heap abuse upon me until I consider myself justified in -refusing you any assistance whatever? However, I will overlook the -past. And, when I explain my present plan, you will feel ashamed of -your former doubts and suspicion. You will say with me, 'Success is -certain.'" - -Louis de Clameran's scheme was very simple, and therefore -unfortunately presented the strongest chances of success. - -"We will go back and look at our balance-sheet. As heretofore, my -brilliant nephew, you seem to have misunderstood my management of this -affair; I will now explain it to you." - -"I am listening." - -"In the first place, I presented myself to Mme. Fauvel, and said not, -'Your money or your life,' but 'Your money or your reputation!' It was -a rude blow to strike, but effective. As I expected, she was -frightened, and regarded me with the greatest aversion." - -"Aversion is a mild term, uncle." - -"I know that. Then I brought you upon the scene; and, without -flattering you in the least, I must say that your opening act was a -perfect success. I was concealed behind the curtain, and saw your -first interview; it was sublime! She saw you, and loved you: you spoke -a few words and won her heart." - -"And but for you?" - -"Let me finish. This was the first act of our comedy. Let us pass to -the second. Your extravagant follies--your grandfather would have -said, your dissoluteness--soon changed our respective situations. Mme. -Fauvel, without ceasing to worship you--you resemble Gaston so -closely--was uneasy about you. She was so frightened that she was -forced to come to me for assistance." - -"Poor woman!" - -"I acted my part very well, as you must confess. I was grave, cold, -indignant, and represented the distressed uncle to perfection. I spoke -of the old probity of the Clamerans, and bemoaned that the family -honor should be dragged in the dust by a degenerate descendant. For a -short time I triumphed at your expense; Mme. Fauvel forgot her former -prejudice against me, and soon showed that she esteemed and liked me." - -"That must have been a long time ago." - -Louis paid no attention to this ironical interruption. - -"Now we come to the third scene," he went on to say, "the time when -Mme. Fauvel, having Madeleine for an adviser, judged us at our true -value. Oh! you need not flatter yourself that she did not fear and -despise us both. If she did not hate you, Raoul, it was because a -mother's heart always forgives a sinful child. A mother can despise -and worship her son at the same time." - -"She has proved it to me in so many touching ways, that!--yes, even I, -hardened as I am--was moved, and felt remorse." - -"Parbleu! I have felt some pangs myself. Where did I leave off? Oh, -yes! Mme. Fauvel was frightened, and Madeleine, bent on sacrificing -herself, had discarded Prosper, and consented to marry me, when the -existence of Gaston was suddenly revealed. And what has happened -since? You have succeeded in convincing Mme. Fauvel that you are pure, -and that I am blacker than hell. She is blinded by your noble -qualities, and she and Madeleine regard me as your evil genius, whose -pernicious influence led you astray." - -"You are right, my venerated uncle; that is precisely the position you -occupy." - -"Very good. Now we come to the fifth act, and our comedy needs entire -change of scenery. We must veer around." - -"Change our tactics?" - -"You think it difficult, I suppose? Nothing easier. Listen -attentively, for the future depends upon your skilfulness." - -Raoul leaned back in his chair, with folded arms, as if prepared for -anything, and said: - -"I am ready." - -"The first thing for you to do," said Louis, "is to go to Mme. Fauvel -to-morrow, and tell her the story about my natural brother. She will -not believe you, but that makes no difference. The important thing is, -for you to appear convinced of the truth of what you tell her." - -"Consider me convinced." - -"Five days hence, I will call on M. Fauvel, and confirm the -notification sent him by my notary at Oloron, that the money deposited -in the bank now belongs to me. I will repeat, for his benefit, the -story of the natural brother, and ask him to keep the money until I -call for it, as I have no occasion for it at present. You, who are so -distrustful, my good nephew, may regard this deposit as a guarantee of -my sincerity." - -"We will talk of that another time. Go on." - -"Then I will go to Mme. Fauvel, and say, 'Being very poor, my dear -madame, necessity compelled me to claim your assistance in the support -of my brother's son, who is also yours. This youth is worthless and -extravagant.'" - -"Thanks, my good uncle." - -"'He has poisoned your life when he should have added to your -happiness; he is a constant anxiety and sorrow to your maternal heart. -I have come to offer my regrets for your past trouble, and to assure -you that you will have no annoyance in the future. I am now rich, and -henceforth take the whole responsibility of Raoul upon myself. I will -provide handsomely for him.'" - -"Is that what you call a scheme?" - -"Parbleu, you will soon see whether it is. After listening to this -speech, Mme. Fauvel will feel inclined to throw herself in my arms, by -way of expressing her gratitude and joy. She will refrain, however, on -account of her niece. She will ask me to relinquish my claim on -Madeleine's hand, now that I am rich. I will roundly tell her, No. I -will make this an opportunity for an edifying display of magnanimity -and disinterestedness. I will say, 'Madame, you have accused me of -cupidity. I am now able to prove your injustice. I have been -infatuated, as every man must be, by the beauty, grace, and -intelligence of Mlle. Madeleine; and--I love her. If she were -penniless, my devotion would only be the more ardent. She has been -promised to me, and I must insist upon this one article of our -agreement. This must be the price of my silence. And, to prove that I -am not influenced by her fortune, I give you my sacred promise, that, -the day after the wedding, I will send Raoul a stock receipt of -twenty-five thousand livres per annum." - -Louis expressed himself with such convincing candor, that Raoul, an -artist in knavery, was charmed and astonished. - -"Beautifully done," he cried, clapping his hands with glee. "That last -sentence will create a chasm between Mme. Fauvel and her niece. The -promise of a fortune for me will certainly bring my mother over to our -side." - -"I hope so," said Louis with pretended modesty. "And I have strong -reasons for hoping so, as I shall be able to furnish the good lady -with excellent arguments for excusing herself in her own eyes. You -know when someone proposes some little--what shall we call it?-- -transaction to an honest person, it must be accompanied by -justifications sufficient to quiet all qualms of conscience. I shall -prove to Mme. Fauvel and her niece that Prosper has shamefully -deceived them. I shall prove to them that he is cramped by debts, -dissipated, and a reckless gambler, openly associating with a woman of -no character." - -"And very pretty, besides, by Jove! You must not neglect to expatiate -upon the beauty and fascinations of the adorable Gypsy; that will be -your strongest point." - -"Don't be alarmed; I shall be more eloquent than a popular divine. -Then I will explain to Mme. Fauvel that if she really loves her niece, -she will persuade her to marry, not an insignificant cashier, but a -man of position, a great manufacturer, a marquis, and, more than this, -one rich enough to establish you in the world." - -Raoul was dazzled by this brilliant prospect. - -"If you don't decide her, you will make her waver," he said. - -"Oh! I don't expect a sudden change. I only intend planting the germ -in her mind; thanks to you, it will develop, flourish, and bear -fruit." - -"Thanks to me?" - -"Allow me to finish. After making my speeches I shall disappear from -the scene, and your role will commence. Of course your mother will -repeat the conversation to you, and then we can judge of the effect -produced. But remember, you must scorn to receive any assistance from -me. You must swear that you will brave all privation, want, famine -even, rather than accept a cent from a base man whom you hate and -despise; a man who-- But you know exactly what you are to say. I can -rely upon you for good acting." - -"No one can surpass me when I am interested in my part. In pathetic -roles I am always a success, when I have had time to prepare myself." - -"I know you are. But this disinterestedness need not prevent you from -resuming your dissipations. You must gamble, bet, and lose more money -than you ever did before. You must increase your demands, and say that -you must have money at all costs. You need not account to me for any -money you can extort from her. All you get is your own to spend as you -please." - -"You don't say so! If you mean that--" - -"You will hurry up matters, I'll be bound." - -"I can promise you, no time shall be wasted." - -"Now listen to what you are to do, Raoul. Before the end of three -months, you must have exhausted the resources of these two women. You -must force from them every franc they can raise, so that they will be -wholly unable to procure money to supply your increasing demands. In -three months I must find them penniless, absolutely ruined, without -even a jewel left." - -Raoul was startled at the passionate, vindictive tone of Louis's voice -as he uttered these last words. - -"You must hate these women, if you are so determined to make them -miserable," he said. - -"I hate them?" cried Louis. "Can't you see that I madly love -Madeleine, love her as only a man of my age can love? Is not her image -ever in my mind? Does not the very mention of her name fire my heart, -and make me tremble like a school-boy?" - -"Your great devotion does not prevent you planning the destruction of -her present happiness." - -"Necessity compels me to do so. Nothing but the most cruel deceptions -and the bitterest suffering would ever induce her to become my wife, -to take me as the lesser of two evils. The day on which you have led -Mme. Fauvel and her niece to the extreme edge of the precipice, -pointed out its dark depths, and convinced them that they are -irretrievably lost, I shall appear, and rescue them. I will play my -part with such grandeur, such lofty magnanimity, that Madeleine will -be touched, will forget her past enmity, and regard me with favorable -eyes. When she finds that it is her sweet self, and not her money, -that I want, she will soften, and in time yield to my entreaties. No -true woman can be indifferent to a grand passion. I don't pretend to -say that she will love me at first; but, if she will only consent to -be mine, I ask for nothing more; time will do much, even for a poor -devil like myself." - -Raoul was shocked at this cold-blooded perversity of his uncle; but -Clameran showed his immense superiority in wickedness, and the -apprentice admired the master. - -"You would certainly succeed, uncle," he said, "were it not for the -cashier. Between you and Madeleine, Prosper will always stand; if not -in person, certainly in memory." - -Louis smiled scornfully, and, throwing away his cigar, which had died -out, said: - -"I don't mind Prosper, or attach any more importance to him than to -that cigar." - -"But she loves him." - -"So much the worse for him. Six months hence, she will despise him; he -is already morally ruined, and at the proper time I will make an end -of him socially. Do you know whither the road of dissipation leads, my -good nephew? Prosper supports Gypsy, who is extravagant; he gambles, -keeps fast horses, and gives suppers. Now, you gamble yourself, and -know how much money can be squandered in one night; the losses of -baccarat must be paid within twenty-four hours. He has lost heavily, -must pay, and--has charge of a money-safe." - -Raoul protested against this insinuation. - -"It is useless to tell me that he is honest, that nothing would induce -him to touch money that does not belong to him. I know better. -Parbleu! I was honest myself until I learned to gamble. Any man with a -grain of sense would have married Madeleine long ago, and sent us -flying bag and baggage. You say she loves him! No one but a coward -would be defrauded of the woman he loved and who loved him. Ah, if I -had once felt Madeleine's hand tremble in mine, if her rosy lips had -once pressed a kiss upon my brow, the whole world could not take her -from me. Woe to him who dared stand in my path! As it is, Prosper -annoys me, and I intend to suppress him. With your aid I will so cover -him with disgrace and infamy, that Madeleine will drive every thought -of him from her mind, and her love will turn to hate." - -Louis's tone of rage and vengeance startled Raoul, and made him regard -the affair in a worse light than ever. - -"You have given me a shameful, dastardly role to play," he said after -a long pause. - -"My honorable nephew has scruples, I suppose," said Clameran -sneeringly. - -"Not exactly scruples; yet I confess--" - -"That you want to retreat? Rather too late to sing that tune, my -friend. You wish to enjoy every luxury, have your pockets filled with -gold, cut a fine figure in high society, and remain virtuous. Are you -fool enough to suppose a poor man can be honest? 'Tis a luxury -pertaining to the wealthy. Did you ever see people such as we draw -money from the pure fount of virtue? We must fish in muddy waters, and -then wash ourselves clean, and enjoy the result of our labor." - -"I have never been rich enough to be honest," said Raoul humbly; "but -I must say it goes hard with me to torture two defenceless, frightened -women, and ruin the character of a poor devil who regards me as his -best friend. It is a low business!" - -This resistance exasperated Louis to the last degree. - -"You are the most absurd, ridiculous fool I ever met," he cried. "An -opportunity occurs for us to make an immense fortune. All we have to -do is to stretch out our hands and take it; when you must needs prove -refractory, like a whimpering baby. Nobody but an ass would refuse to -drink when he is thirsty, because he sees a little mud at the bottom -of the bucket. I suppose you prefer theft on a small scale, stealing -by driblets. And where will your system lead you? To the poor-house or -the police-station. You prefer living from hand to mouth, supported by -Mme. Fauvel, having small sums doled out to you to pay your little -gambling debts." - -"I am neither ambitious nor cruel." - -"And suppose Mme. Fauvel dies to-morrow: what will become of you? Will -you go cringing up to the widower, and implore him to continue your -allowance?" - -"Enough said," cried Raoul, angrily interrupting his uncle. "I never -had any idea of retreating. I made these objections to show you what -infamous work you expect of me, and at the same time prove to you that -without my assistance you can do nothing." - -"I never pretended to the contrary." - -"Then, my noble uncle, we might as well settle what my share is to be. -Oh! it is not worth while for you to indulge in idle protestations. -What will you give me in case of success? and what if we fail?" - -"I told you before. I will give you twenty-five thousand livres a -year, and all you can secure between now and my wedding-day." - -"This arrangement suits me very well; but where are your securities?" - -This question was discussed a long time before it was satisfactorily -settled by the accomplices, who had every reason to distrust each -other. - -"What are you afraid of?" asked Clameran. - -"Everything," replied Raoul. "Where am I to obtain justice, if you -deceive me? From this pretty little poniard? No, thank you. I would be -made to pay as dear for your hide, as for that of an honest man." - -Finally, after long debate and much recrimination, the matter was -arranged, and they shook hands before separating. - -Alas! Mme. Fauvel and her niece soon felt the evil effects of the -understanding between the villains. - -Everything happened as Louis had arranged. - -Once more, when Mme. Fauvel had begun to breathe freely, and to hope -that her troubles were over, Raoul's conduct suddenly changed; he -became more extravagant and dissipated than ever. - -Formerly, Mme. Fauvel would have said, "I wonder what he does with all -the money I give him?" Now she saw where it went. - -Raoul was reckless in his wickedness; he was intimate with actresses, -openly lavishing money and jewelry upon them; he drove about with four -horses, and bet heavily on every race. Never had he been so exacting -and exorbitant in his demands for money; Mme. Fauvel had the greatest -difficulty in supplying his wants. - -He no longer made excuses and apologies for spending so much; instead -of coaxingly entreating, he demanded money as a right, threatening to -betray Mme. Fauvel to her husband if she refused him. - -At this rate, all the possessions of Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine soon -disappeared. In one month, all their money had been squandered. Then -they were compelled to resort to the most shameful expedients in the -household expenses. They economized in every possible way, making -purchases on credit, and making tradesmen wait; then they changed -figures in the bills, and even invented accounts of things never -bought. - -These imaginary costly whims increased so rapidly, that M. Fauvel one -day said, as he signed a large check, "Upon my word, ladies, you will -buy out all the stores, if you keep on this way. But nothing pleases -me better than to see you gratify every wish." - -Poor women! For months they had bought nothing, but had lived upon the -remains of their former splendor, having all their old dresses made -over, to keep up appearances in society. - -More clear-sighted than her aunt, Madeleine saw plainly that the day -would soon come when everything would have to be explained. - -Although she knew that the sacrifices of the present would avail -nothing in the future, that all this money was being thrown away -without securing her aunt's peace of mind, yet she was silent. A high- -minded delicacy made her conceal her apprehensions beneath an assumed -calmness. - -The fact of her sacrificing herself made her refrain from uttering -anything like a complaint or censure. She seemed to forget herself -entirely in her efforts to comfort her aunt. - -"As soon as Raoul sees we have nothing more to give," she would say, -"he will come to his senses, and stop all this extravagance." - -The day came when Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine found it impossible to -give another franc. - -The evening previous, Mme. Fauvel had a dinner-party, and with -difficulty scraped together enough money to defray the expenses. - -Raoul appeared, and said that he was in the greatest need of money, -being forced to pay a debt of two thousand francs at once. - -In vain they implored him to wait a few days, until they could with -propriety ask M. Fauvel for money. He declared that he must have it -now, and that he would not leave the house without it. - -"But I have no way of getting it for you," said Mme. Fauvel -desperately; "you have taken everything from me. I have nothing left -but my diamonds: do you want them? If they can be of use, take them." - -Hardened as the young villain was, he blushed at these words. - -He felt pity for this unfortunate woman, who had always been so kind -and indulgent to him, who had so often lavished upon him her maternal -caresses. He felt for the noble girl who was the innocent victim of a -vile plot. - -But he was bound by an oath; he knew that a powerful hand would save -these women at the brink of the precipice. More than this, he saw an -immense fortune at the end of his road of crime, and quieted his -conscience by saying that he would redeem his present cruelty by -honest kindness in the future. Once out of the clutches of Clameran, -he would be a better man, and try to return some of the kind affection -shown him by these poor women. - -Stifling his better impulses, he said harshly to Mme. Fauvel, "Give me -the jewels; I will take them to the pawnbroker's." Mme. Fauvel handed -him a box containing a set of diamonds. It was a present from her -husband the day he became worth a million. - -And so pressing was the want of these women who were surrounded by -princely luxury, with their ten servants, beautiful blooded horses, -and jewels which were the admiration of Paris, that they implored him -to bring them some of the money which he would procure on the -diamonds, to meet their daily wants. - -He promised, and kept his word. - -But they had revealed a new source, a mine to be worked; he took -advantage of it. - -One by one, all Mme. Fauvel's jewels followed the way of the diamonds; -and, when hers were all gone, those of Madeleine were given up. - -A recent law-suit, which showed how a young and beautiful woman had -been kept in a state of terror and almost poverty, by a rascal who had -possession of her letters, a sad case which no honest man could read -without blushing for his sex, has revealed to what depths human infamy -can descend. - -And such abominable crimes are not so rare as people suppose. - -How many men are supported entirely by stolen secrets, from the -coachman who claims ten louis every month of the foolish girl whom he -drove to a rendezvous, to the elegant dandy in light kids, who -discovered a financial swindle, and makes the parties interested buy -his silence, cannot be known. - -This is called the extortion of hush-money, the most cowardly and -infamous of crimes, which the law, unfortunately, can rarely overtake -and punish. - -"Extortion of hush-money," said an old prefect of police, "is a trade -which supports at least a thousand scamps in Paris alone. Sometimes we -know the black-mailer and his victim, and yet we can do nothing. -Moreover, if we were to catch the villain in the very act, and hand -him over to justice, the victim, in her fright at the chance of her -secret being discovered, would turn against us." - -It is true, extortion has become a business. Very often it is the -business of loafers, who spend plenty of money, when everyone knows -they have no visible means of support, and of whom people ask, "What -do they live upon?" - -The poor victims do not know how easy it would be to rid themselves of -their tyrants. The police are fully capable of faithfully keeping -secrets confided to them. A visit to the Rue de Jerusalem, a -confidential communication with a head of the bureau, who is as silent -as a father confessor, and the affair is arranged, without noise, -without publicity, without anyone ever being the wiser. There are -traps for "master extortioners," which work well in the hands of the -police. - -Mme. Fauvel had no defence against the scoundrels who were torturing -her, save prayers and tears; these availed her little. - -Sometimes Mme. Fauvel betrayed such heart-broken suffering when Raoul -begged her for money which she had no means of obtaining, that he -would hurry away disgusted at his own brutal conduct, and say to -Clameran: - -"You must end this dirty business; I cannot stand it any longer. I -will blow any man's brains out, or fight a crowd of cut-throats, if -you choose; but as to killing by agony and fright these two poor -miserable women, whom I am really fond of, I am not going to do it. -You ask for more than I can do. I am not quite the cowardly hound you -take me for." - -Clameran paid no attention to these remonstrances: indeed, he was -prepared for them. - -"It is not pleasant, I know," he replied; "but necessity knows no law. -Have a little more perseverance and patience; we have almost got to -the end." - -The end was nearer than Clameran supposed. Toward the latter part of -November, Mme. Fauvel saw that it was impossible to postpone the -catastrophe any longer, and as a last effort determined to apply to -the marquis for assistance. - -She had not seen him since his return from Oloron, except once, when -he came to announce his accession to wealth. At that time, persuaded -that he was the evil genius of Raoul, she had received him very -coldly, and did not invite him to repeat his visit. - -She hesitated about speaking to her niece of the step she intended -taking, because she feared violent opposition. - -To her great surprise Madeleine warmly approved of it. - -Trouble had made her keen-sighted and suspicious. Reflecting on past -events, comparing and weighing every act and speech of Raoul, she was -now convinced that he was Clameran's tool. - -She thought that Raoul was too shrewd to be acting in this shameful -way, ruinously to his own interests, if there were not some secret -motive at the bottom of it all. She saw that this persecution was more -feigned than real. - -So thoroughly was she convinced of this, that, had it only concerned -herself alone, she would have firmly resisted the oppression, certain -that the threatened exposure would never take place. - -Recalling, with a shudder, certain looks of Clameran, she guessed the -truth, that the object of all this underhand work was to force her to -become his wife. - -Determined on making the sacrifice, in spite of her repugnance toward -the man, she wished to have the deed done at once; anything was -preferable to this terrible anxiety, to the life of torture which -Raoul made her lead. She felt that her courage might fail if she -waited and suffered much longer. - -"The sooner you see M. de Clameran the better for us, aunt," she said, -after talking the project over. - -The next day Mme. Fauvel called on the marquis at the Hotel du Louvre, -having sent him a note announcing her intended visit. - -He received her with cold, studied politeness, like a man who had been -misunderstood and had been unjustly wounded. - -After listening to her report of Raoul's scandalous behavior, he -became very indignant, and swore that he would soon make him repent of -his heartlessness. - -But when Mme. Fauvel told of the immense sums of money forced from -her, Clameran seemed confounded, as if he could not believe it. - -"The worthless rascal!" he exclaimed, "the idea of his audacity! Why, -during the last four months, I have given him more than twenty -thousand francs, which I would not have done except to prevent him -from applying to you, as he constantly threatened to do." - -Seeing an expression of doubtful surprise upon Mme. Fauvel's face, -Louis arose, and took from his desk some receipts signed by Raoul. The -total amount was twenty-three thousand five hundred francs. - -Mme. Fauvel was shocked and amazed. - -"He has obtained forty thousand francs from me," she faintly said, "so -that altogether he has spent sixty thousand francs in four months." - -"I can't imagine what he does with it," said Clameran, "unless he -spends it on actresses." - -"Good heavens! what can these creatures do with all the money lavished -on them?" - -"That is a question I cannot answer, madame." - -He appeared to pity Mme. Fauvel sincerely; he promised that he would -at once see Raoul, and reason with him about the shameful life he was -leading; perhaps he could be persuaded to reform. Finally, after many -protestations of friendship, he wound up by placing his fortune at her -disposal. - -Although Mme. Fauvel refused his offer, she appreciated the kindness -of it, and on returning home said to Madeleine: - -"Perhaps we have mistaken his character; he may be a good man after -all." - -Madeleine sadly shook her head. She had anticipated just what -happened. Clameran's magnanimity and generosity confirmed her -presentiments. - -Raoul came to see his uncle, and found him radiant. - -"Everything is going on swimmingly, my smart nephew," said Clameran; -"your receipts acted like a charm. Ah, you are a partner worth having. -I congratulate you upon your success. Forty thousand francs in four -months!" - -"Yes," said Raoul carelessly. "I got about that much from -pawnbrokers." - -"Pests! Then you must have a nice little sum laid by." - -"That is my business, uncle, and not yours. Remember our agreement. I -will tell you this much: Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine have turned -everything they could into money; they have nothing left, and I have -had enough of my role." - -"Your role is ended. I forbid you to hereafter ask for a single -centime." - -"What are you about to do? What has happened?" - -"The mine is loaded, nephew, and I am awaiting an opportunity to set -fire to it." - -Louis de Clameran relied upon making his rival, Prosper Bertomy, -furnish him this ardently desired opportunity. - -He loved Madeleine too passionately to feel aught save the bitterest -hate toward the man whom she had freely chosen, and who still -possessed her heart. - -Clameran knew that he could marry her at once if he chose; but in what -way? By holding a sword of terror over her head, and forcing her to be -his. He became frenzied at the idea of possessing her person, while -her heart and soul would always be with Prosper. - -Thus he swore that, before marrying, he would so cover Prosper with -shame and ignominy that no honest person would speak to him. He had -first thought of killing him, but, fearing that Madeleine would -enshrine and worship his memory, he determined to disgrace him. - -He imagined that there would be no difficulty in ruining the -unfortunate young man. He soon found himself mistaken. - -Though Prosper led a life of reckless dissipation, he preserved order -in his disorder. If in a state of miserable entanglement, and obliged -to resort to all sorts of make-shifts to escape his creditors, his -caution prevented the world from knowing it. - -Vainly did Raoul, with his pockets full of gold, try to tempt him to -play high; every effort to hasten his ruin failed. - -When he played he did not seem to care whether he lost or won; nothing -aroused him from his cold indifference. - -His friend Nina Gypsy was extravagant, but her devotion to Prosper -restrained her from going beyond certain limits. - -Raoul's great intimacy with Prosper enabled him to fully understand -the state of his mind; that he was trying to drown his disappointment -in excitement, but had not given up all hope. - -"You need not hope to beguile Prosper into committing any piece of -folly," said Raoul to his uncle; "his head is as cool as a usurer's. -He never goes beyond a certain degree of dissipation. What object he -has in view I know not. Perhaps, when he has spent his last napoleon, -he will blow his brains out; he certainly never will descend to any -dishonorable act. As to tampering with the money-safe intrusted to his -keeping----" - -"We must force him on," replied Clameran, "lead him into -extravagances, make Gypsy call on him for costly finery, lend him -plenty of money." - -Raoul shook his head, as if convinced that his efforts would be vain. - -"You don't know Prosper, uncle: we can't galvanize a dead man. -Madeleine killed him the day she discarded him. He takes no interest -in anything on the face of the earth." - -"We can wait and see." - -They did wait; and, to the great surprise of Mme. Fauvel, Raoul once -more became an affectionate and dutiful son, as he had been during -Clameran's absence. From reckless extravagance he changed to great -economy. Under pretext of saving money, he remained at Vesinet, -although it was very uncomfortable and disagreeable there in the -winter. He said he wished to expiate his sins in solitude. The truth -was, that, by remaining in the country, he insured his liberty, and -escaped his mother's visits. - -It was about this time that Mme. Fauvel, charmed with the improvement -in Raoul, asked her husband to give him some employment. - -M. Fauvel was delighted to please his wife, and at once offered Raoul -the place of corresponding clerk with a salary of five hundred francs -a month. - -The appointment pleased Raoul; but, in obedience to Clameran's -command, he refused it, saying his vocation was not banking. - -This refusal so provoked the banker, that he told Raoul, if he was so -idle and lazy, not to call on him for money again, or expect him to do -anything to assist him. Raoul seized this pretext for ostensibly -ceasing his visits. - -When he wanted to see his mother, he would come in the afternoon, when -he knew that M. Fauvel would be from home; and he only came often -enough to keep informed of what was going on in the household. - -This sudden lull after so many storms appeared ominous to Madeleine. -She was more certain that ever that the plot was now ripe, and would -suddenly burst upon them, without warning. She did not impart her -presentiment to her aunt, but prepared herself for the worst. - -"What can they be doing?" Mme. Fauvel would say; "can they have ceased -to persecute us?" - -"Yes: what can they be doing?" Madeleine would murmur. - -Louis and Raoul gave no signs of life, because, like expert hunters, -they were silently hiding, and watching for a favorable opportunity of -pouncing upon their victims. - -Never losing sight of Prosper for a day, Raoul had exhausted every -effort of his fertile mind to compromise his honor, to insnare him -into some inextricable entanglement. But, as he had foreseen, the -cashier's indifference offered little hope of success. - -Clameran began to grow impatient at this delay, and had fully -determined to bring matters to a crisis himself, when one morning, -about three o'clock, he was aroused by Raoul. - -He knew that some event of great importance must have happened, to -make his nephew come to his house at this hour of the morning. - -"What is the matter?" he anxiously inquired. - -"Perhaps nothing; perhaps everything. I have just left Prosper." - -"Well?" - -"I had him, Mme. Gypsy, and three other friends to dine with me. After -dinner, I made up a game of baccarat, but Prosper took no interest in -it, although he was quite tipsy." - -"You must be drunk yourself to come here waking me up in the middle of -the night, to hear this idle gabble," said Louis angrily. "What the -devil do you mean by it?" - -"Now, don't be in a hurry; wait until you hear the rest." - -"Morbleu! speak, then!" - -"After the game was over, we went to supper; Prosper became -intoxicated, and betrayed the secret name with which he closes the -money-safe." - -At these words Clameran uttered a cry of triumph. - -"What was the word?" - -"The name of his friend." - -"Gypsy! Yes, that would be five letters." - -Louis was so excited that he jumped out of bed, slipped on his -dressing-gown, and began to stride up and down the chamber. - -"Now we have got him!" he said with vindictive satisfaction. "There's -no chance of escape for him now! Ah, the virtuous cashier won't touch -the money confided to him: so we must touch it for him. The disgrace -will be just as great, no matter who opens the safe. We have the word; -you know where the key is kept." - -"Yes; when M. Fauvel goes out he always leaves the key in the drawer -of his secretary, in his chamber." - -"Very good. Go and get this key from Mme. Fauvel. If she does not give -it up willingly, use force: so that you get it, that is the point; -then open the safe, and take out every franc it contains. Ah, Master -Bertomy, you shall pay dear for being loved by the woman whom I love!" - -For five minutes Clameran indulged in such a tirade of abuse against -Prosper, mingled with rhapsodies of love for Madeleine, that Raoul -thought him almost out of his mind. - -"Before crying victory," he said, "you had better consider the -drawbacks and difficulties. Prosper might change the word to-morrow." - -"Yes, he might; but it is not probable he will; he will forget what he -said while drunk; besides, we can hasten matters." - -"That is not all. M. Fauvel has given orders that no large sum shall -be kept in the safe over-night; before closing the bank everything is -sent to the Bank of France." - -"A large sum will be kept there the night I choose." - -"You think so?" - -"I think this: I have a hundred thousand crowns deposited with M. -Fauvel: and if I desire the money to be paid over to me early some -morning, directly the bank is opened, of course the money will be kept -in the safe the previous night." - -"A splendid idea!" cried Raoul admiringly. - -It was a good idea; and the plotters spent several hours in studying -its strong and weak points. - -Raoul feared that he would never be able to overcome Mme. Fauvel's -resistance. And, even if she yielded the key, would she not go -directly and confess everything to her husband? She was fond of -Prosper, and would hesitate a long time before sacrificing him. - -But Louis felt no uneasiness on this score. - -"One sacrifice necessitates another," he said: "she has made too many -to draw back at the last one. She sacrificed her adopted daughter; -therefore she will sacrifice a young man, who is, after all, a -comparative stranger to her." - -"But madame will never believe any harm of Prosper; she will always -have faith in his honor; therefore--" - -"You talk like an idiot, my verdant nephew!" - -Before the conversation had ended, the plan seemed feasible. The -scoundrels made all their arrangements, and fixed the day for -committing the crime. - -They selected the evening of the 7th of February, because Raoul knew -that M. Fauvel would be at a bank-director's dinner, and Madeleine was -invited to a party on that evening. - -Unless something unforeseen should occur, Raoul knew that he would -find Mme. Fauvel alone at half-past eight o'clock. - -"I will ask M. Fauvel this very day," said Clameran, "to have my money -on hand for Tuesday." - -"That is a very short notice, uncle," objected Raoul. "You know there -are certain forms to be gone through, and he can claim a longer time -wherein to pay it over." - -"That is true, but our banker is proud of always being prepared to pay -any amount of money, no matter how large; and if I say I am pressed, -and would like to be accommodated on Tuesday, he will make a point of -having it ready for me. Now, you must ask Prosper, as a personal favor -to you, to have the money on hand at the opening of the bank." - -Raoul once more examined the situation, to discover if possible a -grain of sand which might be converted into a mountain at the last -moment. - -"Prosper and Gypsy are to be at Vesinet this evening," he said, "but I -cannot ask them anything until I know the banker's answer. As soon as -you arrange matters with him, send me word by Manuel." - -"I can't send Manuel, for an excellent reason; he has left me; but I -can send another messenger." - -Louis spoke the truth; Manuel was gone. He had insisted on keeping -Gaston's old servant in his service, because he thought it imprudent -to leave him at Oloron, where his gossiping might cause trouble. - -He soon became annoyed by Manuel's loyalty, who had shared the perils -and good fortunes of an excellent master for many years; and -determined to rid himself of this last link which constantly reminded -him of Gaston. The evening before, he had persuaded Manuel to return -to Arenys-de-mer, a little port of Catalonia, his native place; and -Louis was looking for another servant. - -After breakfasting together, they separated. - -Clameran was so elated by the prospect of success, that he lost sight -of the great crime intervening. Raoul was calm, but resolute. The -shameful deed he was about to commit would give him riches, and -release him from a hateful servitude. His one thought was liberty, as -Louis's was Madeleine. - -Everything seemed to progress finely. The banker did not ask for the -notice of time, but promised to pay the money at the specified hour. -Prosper said he would have it ready early in the morning. - -The certainty of success made Louis almost wild with joy. He counted -the hours, and the minutes, which passed but too slowly. - -"When this affair is ended," he said to Raoul, "I will reform and be a -model of virtue. No one will dare hint that I have ever indulged in -any sins, great or small." - -But Raoul became more and more sad as the time approached. Reflection -gradually betrayed the blackness of the contemplated crime. - -Raoul was bold and determined in the pursuit of his own gratifications -and wickedness; he could smile in the face of his best friend, while -cheating him of his last napoleon at cards; and he could sleep well -after stabbing his enemy in the heart; but he was young. - -He was young in sin. Vice had not yet penetrated to his marrow-bones: -corruption had not yet crowded into his soul enough to uproot and -destroy every generous sentiment. - -It had not been so very long since he had cherished a few holy -beliefs. The good intentions of his boyhood were not quite obliterated -from his sometimes reproachful memory. - -Possessing the daring courage natural to youth, he despised the -cowardly part forced upon him; this dark plot, laid for the -destruction of two helpless women, filled him with horror and disgust. -His heart revolted at the idea of acting the part of Judas toward his -mother to betray her between two kisses. - -Disgusted by the cool villainy of Louis, he longed for some unexpected -danger to spring up, some great peril to be braved, so as to excuse -himself in his own eyes, to give him the spirit to carry through the -scheme; for he would like to reap the benefits without doing the -revolting work. - -But no; he well knew that he ran no risk, not even that of being -arrested and sent to the galleys. For he was certain that, if M. -Fauvel discovered everything, he would do his best to hush it up, to -conceal every fact connected with the disgraceful story which would -implicate his wife. Although he was careful not to breathe it to -Clameran, he felt a sincere affection for Mme. Fauvel, and was touched -by the indulgent fondness which she so unchangingly lavished upon him. -He had been happy at Vesinet, while his accomplice, or rather his -master, was at Oloron. He would have been glad to lead an honest life, -and could not see the sense of committing a crime when there was no -necessity for it. He hated Clameran for not consenting to let the -matter drop, now that he was rich enough to live in affluence the rest -of his life, and who, for the sake of gratifying a selfish passion, -was abusing his power, and endangering the safety and happiness of so -many people. He longed for an opportunity of thwarting his plots, if -it could be done without also ruining himself. - -His resolution, which had been so firm in the beginning, was growing -weaker and weaker as the hours rolled on: as the crisis approached, -his horror of the deed increased. - -Seeing this uncertain state of Raoul's mind, Louis never left him, but -continued to paint for him a dazzling future, position, wealth, and -freedom. Possessing a large fortune, he would be his own master, -gratify his every wish, and make amends to his mother for his present -undutiful conduct. He urged him to take pride in acting his part in -this little comedy, which would soon be over without doing harm to -anyone. - -He prepared, and forced his accomplice to rehearse, the scene which -was to be enacted at Mme. Fauvel's, with as much coolness and -precision as if it were to be performed at a public theatre. Louis -said that no piece could be well acted unless the actor was interested -and imbued with the spirit of his role. - -But the more urgently Louis pressed upon him the advantages to be -derived from success, the oftener he sounded in his ears the magic -words, "five hundred thousand francs," the more loudly did Raoul's -conscience cry out against the sinful deed. - -On Monday evening, about six o'clock, Raoul felt so depressed and -miserable, that he had almost made up his mind to refuse to move -another step, and to tell Louis that he must find another tool to -carry out his abominable plot. - -"Are you afraid?" asked Clameran, who had anxiously watched these -inward struggles. - -"Yes, I am afraid. I am not cursed with your ferocious nature and iron -will. I am the most miserable dog living!" - -"Come, cheer up, my boy! You are not yourself to-day. Don't fail me at -the last minute, when everything depends upon you. Just think that we -have almost finished; one more stroke of our oars, and we are in port. -You are only nervous: come to dinner, and a bottle of Burgundy will -soon set you right." - -They were walking along the boulevard. Clameran insisted upon their -entering a restaurant, and having dinner in a private room. - -Vainly did he strive, however, to chase the gloom from Raoul's pale -face; he sat listening, with a sullen frown, to his friend's jests -about "swallowing the bitter pill gracefully." - -Urged by Louis, he drank two bottles of wine, in hopes that -intoxication would inspire him with courage to do the deed, which -Clameran impressed upon his mind must and should be done before many -more hours had passed over his head. - -But the drunkenness he sought came not; the wine proved false; at the -bottom of the last bottle he found disgust and rage. - -The clock struck eight. - -"The time has come," said Louis firmly. - -Raoul turned livid; his teeth chattered, and his limbs trembled so -that he was unable to stand on his feet. - -"Oh, I cannot do it!" he cried in an agony of terror and rage. - -Clameran's eyes flashed with angry excitement at the prospect of all -his plans being ruined at the last moment. But he dared not give way -to his anger, for fear of exasperating Raoul, whom he knew to be -anxious for an excuse to quarrel; so he quietly pulled the bell-rope. -A boy appeared. - -"A bottle of port," he said, "and a bottle of rum." - -When the boy returned with the bottles, Louis filled a goblet with the -two liquors mixed, and handed it to Raoul. - -"Drink this," he said in a tone of command. - -Raoul emptied the glass at one draught, and a faint color returned to -his ashy cheeks. He arose, and snatching up his hat, cried fiercely: - -"Come along!" - -But before he had walked half a square, the factitious energy inspired -by drink deserted him. - -He clung to Clameran's arm, and was almost dragged along in the -direction of the banker's house, trembling like a criminal on his way -to the scaffold. - -"If I can once get him in the house," thought Louis, "and make him -begin, the excitement of his mother's opposition will make him carry -it through successfully. The cowardly baby! I would like to wring his -neck!" - -Although his breast was filled with these thoughts and fears, he was -careful to conceal them from Raoul, and said soothingly: - -"Now, don't forget our arrangement, and be careful how you enter the -house; everything depends upon your being unconcerned and cool, to -avoid arousing suspicion in the eyes of anyone you may meet. Have you -a pistol in your pocket?" - -"Yes, yes! Let me alone!" - -It was well that Clameran had accompanied Raoul; for, when he got in -sight of the door, his courage gave way, and he longed to retreat. - -"A poor, helpless woman!" he groaned, "and an honest man who pressed -my hand in friendship yesterday, to be cowardly ruined, betrayed by -me! Ah, it is too base! I cannot!" - -"Come, don't be a coward! I thought you had more nerve. Why, you might -as well have remained virtuous and honest; you will never earn your -salt in this sort of business." - -Raoul overcame his weakness, and, silencing the clamors of his -conscience, rushed up the steps, and pulled the bell furiously. - -"Is Mme. Fauvel at home?" he inquired of the servant who opened the -door. - -"Madame is alone in the sitting-room adjoining her chamber," was the -reply. - -Raoul went upstairs. - - - -XX - -Clameran's last injunction to Raoul was: - -"Be very cautious when you enter the room; your appearance must tell -everything, so you can avoid preliminary explanations." - -The recommendation was useless. - -The instant that Raoul went into the little salon, the sight of his -pale, haggard face and wild eyes caused Mme. Fauvel to spring up with -clasped hands, and cry out: - -"Raoul! What has happened? Speak, my son!" - -The sound of her tender, affectionate voice acted like an electric -shock upon the young bandit. He shook like a leaf. But at the same -time his mind seemed to change. Louis was not mistaken in his estimate -of his companion's character. Raoul was on the stage, his part was to -be played; his assurance returned to him; his cheating, lying nature -assumed the ascendant, and stifled any better feeling in his heart. - -"This misfortune is the last I shall ever suffer, mother!" - -Mme. Fauvel rushed toward him, and, seizing his hand, gazed -searchingly into his eyes, as if to read his very soul. - -"What is the matter? Raoul, my dear son, do tell me what troubles -you." - -He gently pushed her from him. - -"The matter is, my mother," he said in a voice of heart-broken -despair, "that I am an unworthy, degenerate son! Unworthy of you, -unworthy of my noble father!" - -She tried to comfort him by saying that his errors were all her fault, -and that he was, in spite of all, the pride of her heart. - -"Alas!" he said, "I know and judge myself. No one can reproach me for -my infamous conduct more bitterly than does my own conscience. I am -not naturally wicked, but only a miserable fool. At times I am like an -insane man, and am not responsible for my actions. Ah, my dear mother, -I would not be what I am, if you had watched over my childhood. But -brought up among strangers, with no guide but my own evil passions, -nothing to restrain me, no one to advise me, no one to love me, owning -nothing, not even my stolen name, I am cursed with vanity and -unbounded ambition. Poor, with no one to assist me but you, I have the -tastes and vices of a millionnaire's son. - -"Alas for me! When I found you, the evil was done. Your affection, -your maternal love, the only true happiness of my life, could not save -me. I, who had suffered so much, endured so many privations, even the -pangs of hunger, became spoiled by this new life of luxury and -pleasure which you opened before me. I rushed headlong into -extravagance, as a drunkard long deprived of liquor seizes and drains -to the dregs the first bottle in his reach." - -Mme. Fauvel listened, silent and terrified, to these words of despair -and remorse, which Raoul uttered with vehemence. - -She dared not interrupt him, but felt certain some dreadful piece of -news was coming. - -Raoul continued in a sad, hopeless tone: - -"Yes, I have been a weak fool. Happiness was within my reach, and I -had not the sense to stretch forth my hand and grab it. I rejected a -heavenly reality to eagerly pursue a vain phantom. I, who ought to -have spent my life at your feet, and daily striven to express my -gratitude for your lavish kindness, have made you unhappy, destroyed -your peace of mind, and, instead of being a blessing, I have been a -curse ever since the first fatal day you welcomed me to your kind -heart. Ah, unfeeling brute that I was, to squander upon creatures whom -I despised, a fortune, of which each gold piece must have cost you a -tear! Too late, too late! With you I might have been a good and happy -man!" - -He stopped, as if overcome by the conviction of his evil deeds, and -seemed about to burst into tears. - -"It is never too late to repent, my son," murmured Mme. Fauvel in -comforting tones. - -"Ah, if I only could!" cried Raoul; "but no, it is too late! Besides, -can I tell how long my good resolutions will last? This is not the -first time that I have condemned myself pitilessly. Stinging remorse -for each new fault made me swear to lead a better life, to sin no -more. What was the result of these periodical repentances? At the -first temptation I forgot my remorse and good resolutions. I am weak -and mean-spirited, and you are not firm enough to govern my -vacillating nature. While my intentions are good, my actions are -villainous. The disproportion between my extravagant desires, and the -means of gratifying them, is too great for me to endure any longer. -Who knows to what fearful lengths my unfortunate disposition may lead -me? However, I will take my fate in my own hands!" he finally said -with a reckless laugh. - -"Oh, Raoul, my dear son," cried Mme. Fauvel in an agony of terror, -"explain these dreadful words; am I not your mother? Tell me what -distresses you; I am ready to hear the worst." - -He appeared to hesitate, as if afraid to crush his mother's heart by -the terrible blow he was about to inflict. Then in a voice of gloomy -despair he replied: - -"I am ruined." - -"Ruined?" - -"Yes, ruined; and I have nothing more to expect or hope for. I am -dishonored, and all through my own fault; no one is to be blamed but -myself." - -"Raoul!" - -"It is the sad truth, my poor mother; but fear nothing: I shall not -trail in the dust the name which you bestowed upon me. I will at least -have the courage not to survive my dishonor. Come, mother, don't pity -me, or distress yourself; I am one of those miserable beings fated to -find no peace save in the arms of death. I came into the world with -misfortune stamped upon my brow. Was not my birth a shame and disgrace -to you? Did not the memory of my existence haunt you day and night, -filling your soul with remorse? And now, when I am restored to you -after many years' separation, do I not prove to be a bitter curse -instead of a blessing?" - -"Ungrateful boy! Have I ever reproached you?" - -"Never! Your poor Raoul will die with your beloved name on his lips; -his last words a prayer to Heaven to heap blessings upon your head, -and reward your long-suffering devotion." - -"Die? You die, my son!" - -"It must be, my dear mother; honor compels it. I am condemned by -judges from whose decision no appeal can be taken--my conscience and -my will." - -An hour ago, Mme. Fauvel would have sworn that Raoul had made her -suffer all the torments that a woman could endure; but now she felt -that all her former troubles were nothing compared with her present -agony. - -"My God! Raoul, what have you been doing?" - -"Money was intrusted to me: I gambled and lost it." - -"Was it a large sum?" - -"No; but more than I can replace. My poor mother, have I not taken -everything from you? Did you not give me your last jewel?" - -"But M. de Clameran is rich. He placed his fortune at my disposal. I -will order the carriage, and go to him." - -"But M. de Clameran is absent, and will not return to Paris until next -week; and if I do not have the money this evening, I am lost. Alas! I -have thought deeply, and, although it is hard to die so young, still -fate wills it so." - -He pulled a pistol from his pocket, and, with a forced smile, said: - -"This will settle everything." - -Mme. Fauvel was too excited and frightened to reflect upon the horror -of Raoul's behavior, and that these wild threats were a last resort -for obtaining money. Forgetful of the past, careless of the future, -her every thought concentrated upon the present, she comprehended but -one fact: that her son was about to commit suicide, and that she was -powerless to prevent the fearful deed. - -"Oh, wait a little while my son!" she cried. "Andre will soon return -home, and I will ask him to give me-- How much did you lose?" - -"Thirty thousand francs." - -"You shall have them to-morrow." - -"But I must have the money to-night." - -Mme. Fauvel wrung her hands in despair. - -"Oh! why did you not come to me sooner, my son? Why did you not have -confidence enough in me to come at once for help? This evening! There -is no one in the house to open the money-safe; if it were not for -that--if you had only come before Andre went out--" - -"The safe!" cried Raoul, with sudden joy, as if this magic word had -thrown a ray of light upon his dark despair; "do you know where the -key is kept?" - -"Yes: it is in the next room." - -"Well!" he exclaimed, with a bold look that caused Mme. Fauvel to -lower her eyes, and keep silent. - -"Give me the key, mother," he said in a tone of entreaty. - -"Oh, Raoul, Raoul!" - -"It is my life I am asking of you." - -These words decided her; she snatched up a candle, rushed into her -chamber, opened the secretary, and took out M. Fauvel's key. - -But, when about to hand it to Raoul, she seemed to suddenly see the -enormity of what she was doing. - -"Oh, Raoul! my son," she murmured, "I cannot! Do not ask me to commit -such a dreadful deed!" - -He said nothing, but sadly turned to leave the room; then coming back -to his mother said: - -"Ah, well; it makes but little difference in the end! At least, you -will give me one last kiss, before we part forever, my darling -mother!" - -"What could you do with the key, Raoul?" interrupted Mme. Fauvel. "You -do not know the secret word of the buttons." - -"No; but I can try to open it without moving the buttons." - -"You know that money is never kept in the safe over-night." - -"Nevertheless, I can make the attempt. If I open the safe, and find -money in it, it will be a miracle, showing that Heaven has pitied my -misfortune, and provided relief." - -"And if you are not successful, will you promise me to wait until -to-morrow, to do nothing rash to-night?" - -"I swear it, by my father's memory." - -"Then take the key and follow me." - -Pale and trembling, Raoul and Mme. Fauvel passed through the banker's -study, and down the narrow staircase leading to the offices and cash- -room below. - -Raoul walked in front, holding the light, and the key of the safe. - -Mme. Fauvel was convinced that it would be utterly impossible to open -the safe, as the key was useless without the secret word, and of -course Raoul had no way of discovering what that was. - -Even granting that some chance had revealed the secret to him, he -would find but little in the safe, since everything was deposited in -the Bank of France. Everyone knew that no large sum was ever kept in -the safe after banking hours. - -The only anxiety she felt was, how Raoul would bear the -disappointment, and how she could calm his despair. - -She thought that she would gain time by letting Raoul try the key; and -then, when he could not open the safe, he would keep his promise, and -wait until the next day. There was surely no harm in letting him try -the lock, when he could not touch the money. - -"When he sees there is no chance of success," she thought, "he will -listen to my entreaties; and to-morrow--to-morrow----" - -What she could do to-morrow she knew not, she did not even ask -herself. But in extreme situations the least delay inspires hope, as -if a short respite meant sure salvation. - -The condemned man, at the last moment, begs for a reprieve of a day, -an hour, a few seconds. Raoul was about to kill himself: his mother -prayed to God to grant her one day, not even a day, one night; as if -in this space of time some unexpected relief would come to end her -misery. - -They reached Prosper's office, and Raoul placed the light on a high -stool so that it lighted the whole room. - -He then summoned up all his coolness, or rather that mechanical -precision of movement, almost independent of will, of which men -accustomed to peril avail themselves in time of need. - -Rapidly, with the dexterity of experience, he slipped the buttons on -the five letters composing the name of G, y, p, s, y. - -His features, during this short operation, expressed the most intense -anxiety. He was fearful that his nervous energy might give out; of not -being able to open the safe; of not finding the money there when he -opened it; of Prosper having changed the word; or perhaps having -neglected to leave the money in the safe. - -Mme. Fauvel saw these visible apprehensions with alarm. She read in -his eyes that wild hope of a man who, passionately desiring an object, -ends by persuading himself that his own will suffices to overcome all -obstacles. - -Having often been present when Prosper was preparing to leave his -office, Raoul had fifty times seen him move the buttons, and lock the -safe, just before leaving the bank. Indeed, having a practical turn of -mind, and an eye to the future, he had even tried to lock the safe -himself on several occasions, while waiting for Prosper. - -He inserted the key softly, turned it around, pushed it farther in, -and turned it a second time; then thrust it in suddenly, and turned it -again. His heart beat so loudly that Mme. Fauvel could hear its -throbs. - -The word had not been changed; the safe opened. - -Raoul and his mother simultaneously uttered a cry; she of terror, he -of triumph. - -"Shut it again!" cried Mme. Fauvel, frightened at the incomprehensible -result of Raoul's attempt: "Come away! Don't touch anything, for -Heaven's sake! Raoul!" - -And, half frenzied, she clung to Raoul's arm, and pulled him away so -abruptly, that the key was dragged from the lock, and, slipping along -the glossy varnish of the safe-door, made a deep scratch some inches -long. - -But at a glance Raoul discovered, on the upper shelf of the safe, -three bundles of bank-notes. He snatched them up with his left hand, -and slipped them inside his vest. - -Exhausted by the effort she had just made, Mme. Fauvel dropped Raoul's -arm, and, almost fainting with emotion, clung to the back of a chair. - -"Have mercy, Raoul!" she moaned. "I implore you to put back that money -and I solemnly swear that I will give you twice as much to-morrow. Oh, -my son, have pity upon your unhappy mother!" - -He paid no attention to these words of entreaty, but carefully -examined the scratch on the safe. He was alarmed at this trace of the -robbery, which it was impossible for him to cover up. - -"At least you will not take all," said Mme. Fauvel; "just keep enough -to save yourself, and put back the rest." - -"What good would that do? The discovery will be made that the safe has -been opened; so I might as well take all as a part." - -"Oh, no! not at all. I can account to Andre; I will tell him I had a -pressing need for a certain sum, and opened the safe to get it." - -In the meantime Raoul had carefully closed the safe. - -"Come, mother, let us go back to the sitting-room. A servant might go -there to look for you, and be astonished at our absence." - -Raoul's cruel indifference and cold calculations at such a moment -filled Mme. Fauvel with indignation. She saw that she had no influence -over her son, that her prayers and tears had no effect upon his hard -heart. - -"Let them be astonished," she cried: "let them come here and find us! -I will be relieved to put an end to this tissue of crime. Then Andre -will know all, and drive me from his house. Let come what will, I -shall not sacrifice another victim. Prosper will be accused of this -theft to-morrow. Clameran defrauded him of the woman he loved, and now -you would deprive him of his honor! I will have nothing to do with so -base a crime." - -She spoke so loud and angrily that Raoul was alarmed. He knew that the -errand-boy slept in a room close by, and might be in bed listening to -her, although it was early in the evening. - -"Come upstairs!" he said, seizing Mme. Fauvel's arm. - -But she clung to a table and refused to move a step. - -"I have been cowardly enough to sacrifice Madeleine," she said, "but I -will not ruin Prosper." - -Raoul had an argument in reserve which he knew would make Mme. Fauvel -submit to his will. - -"Now, really," he said with a cynical laugh, "do you pretend that you -do not know Prosper and I arranged this little affair together, and -that he is to have half the booty?" - -"Impossible! I never will believe such a thing of Prosper!" - -"Why, how do you suppose I discovered the secret word? Who do you -suppose disobeyed orders, and left the money in the safe?" - -"Prosper is honest." - -"Of course he is, and so am I too. The only thing is, that we both -need money." - -"You are telling a falsehood, Raoul!" - -"Upon my soul, I am not. Madeleine rejected Prosper, and the poor -fellow has to console himself for her cruelty; and these sorts of -consolations are expensive, my good mother." - -He took up the candle, and gently but firmly led Mme. Fauvel toward -the staircase. - -She mechanically suffered herself to be led along, more bewildered by -what she had just heard than she was at the opening of the safe-door. - -"What!" she gasped, "can Prosper be a thief?" - -She began to think herself the victim of a terrible nightmare, and -that, when she waked, her mind would be relieved of this intolerable -torture. She helplessly clung to Raoul's arm as he helped her up the -narrow little staircase. - -"You must put the key back in the secretary," said Raoul, as soon as -they were in the chamber again. - -But she did not seem to hear him; so he went and replaced the safe-key -in the place from which he had seen her take it. - -He then led, or rather carried, Mme. Fauvel into the little sitting- -room, and placed her in an easy-chair. - -The set, expressionless look of the wretched woman's eyes, and her -dazed manner, frightened Raoul, who thought that she had lost her -mind, that her reason had finally given way beneath this last terrible -shock. - -"Come, cheer up, my dear mother," he said in coaxing tones as he -rubbed her icy hands; "you have saved my life, and rendered an immense -service to Prosper. Don't be alarmed; everything will come out right -in the end. Prosper will be accused, perhaps arrested; he expects -that, and is prepared for it; he will deny his culpability; and, as -there is no proof against him, he will be set at liberty immediately." - -But these falsehoods were wasted on Mme. Fauvel, who was incapable of -understanding anything said to her. - -"Raoul," she moaned in a broken-hearted tone, "Raoul, my son, you have -killed me." - -Her gentle voice, kind even in its despairing accents, touched the -very bottom of Raoul's perverted heart, and once more his soul was -wrung by remorse; so that he felt inclined to put back the stolen -money, and comfort the despairing woman whose life and reason he was -destroying. The thought of Clameran restrained him. - -Finding his efforts to restore Mme. Fauvel fruitless, that, in spite -of all his affectionate regrets and promises, she still sat silent, -motionless, and death-like; and fearing that M. Fauvel or Madeleine -might enter at any moment, and demand an explanation, he hastily -pressed a kiss upon his mother's brow, and hurried from the house. - -At the restaurant, in the room where they had dined, Clameran, -tortured by anxiety, awaited his accomplice. - -He wondered if at the last moment, when he was not near to sustain -him, Raoul would prove a coward, and retreat; if any unforeseen trifle -had prevented his finding the key; if any visitors were there; and, if -so, would they depart before M. Fauvel's return from the dinner-party? - -He had worked himself into such a state of excitement, that, when -Raoul returned, he flew to him with ashy face and trembling all over, -and could scarcely gasp out: - -"Well?" - -"The deed is done, uncle, thanks to you; and I am now the most -miserable, abject villain on the face of the earth." - -He unbuttoned his vest, and, pulling out the four bundles of bank- -notes, angrily dashed them upon the table, saying, in a tone of scorn -and disgust: - -"Now I hope you are satisfied. This is the price of the happiness, -honor, and perhaps the life of three people." - -Clameran paid no attention to these angry words. With feverish -eagerness he seized the notes, and rattled them in his hand as if to -convince himself of the reality of success. - -"Now Madeleine is mine!" he cried excitedly. - -Raoul looked at Clameran in silent disgust. This exhibition of joy was -a shocking contrast to the scene in which he had just been an actor. -He was humiliated at being the tool of such a heartless scoundrel as -he now knew Clameran to be. - -Louis misinterpreted this silence, and said gayly: - -"Did you have much difficulty?" - -"I forbid you ever to allude to this evening's work," cried Raoul -fiercely. "Do you hear me? I wish to forget it." - -Clameran shrugged his shoulders at this outburst of anger, and said in -a bantering tone: - -"Just as you please, my handsome nephew: I rather think you will want -to remember it though, when I offer you these three hundred and fifty -thousand francs. You will not, I am sure, refuse to accept them as a -slight souvenir. Take them: they are yours." - -This generosity seemed neither to surprise nor satisfy Raoul. - -"According to our agreement," he said sullenly, "I was to have more -than this." - -"Of course: this is only part of your share." - -"And when am I to have the rest, if you please?" - -"The day I marry Madeleine, and not before, my boy. You are too -valuable an assistant to lose at present; and you know that, though I -don't mistrust you, I am not altogether sure of your sincere affection -for me." - -Raoul reflected that to commit a crime, and not profit by it, would be -the height of absurdity. He had come with the intention of breaking -off all connection with Clameran; but he now determined that he would -not abandon his accomplice until he had been well paid for his -services. - -"Very well," he said, "I accept this on account; but remember, I will -never do another piece of work like this to-night. You can do what you -please; I shall flatly refuse." - -Clameran burst into a loud laugh, and said: - -"That is sensible: now that you are rich, you can afford to be honest. -Set your conscience at rest, for I promise you I will require nothing -more of you save a few trifling services. You can retire behind the -scenes now, while I appear upon the stage; my role begins." - - - -XXI - -For more than an hour after Raoul's departure, Mme. Fauvel remained in -a state of stupor bordering upon unconsciousness. - -Gradually, however, she recovered her senses sufficiently to -comprehend the horrors of her present situation; and, with the faculty -of thought, that of suffering returned. - -The dreadful scene in which she had taken part was still before her -affrighted vision; all the attending circumstances, unnoticed at the -time, now struck her forcibly. - -She saw that she had been the dupe of a shameful conspiracy: that -Raoul had tortured her with cold-blooded cruelty, had taken advantage -of her tenderness, and had speculated upon her fright. - -But had Prosper anything to do with the robbery? This Mme. Fauvel had -no way of finding out. Ah, Raoul knew how the blow would strike when -he accused Prosper. He knew that Mme. Fauvel would end by believing in -the cashier's complicity. - -The unhappy woman sat and thought over every possible way in which -Raoul could find out the secret word without Prosper's knowledge. She -rejected with horror the idea that the cashier was the instigator of -the crime; but, in spite of herself, it constantly recurred. And -finally she felt convinced that what Raoul said must be true; for who -but Prosper could have betrayed the word? And who but Prosper could -have left so large an amount of money in the safe, which, by order of -the banker, was to be always left empty at night? - -Knowing that Prosper was leading a life of extravagance and -dissipation, she thought it very likely that he had, from sheer -desperation, resorted to this bold step to pay his debts; her blind -affection, moreover, made her anxious to attribute the crime to -anyone, rather than to her darling son. - -She had heard that Prosper was supporting one of those worthless -creatures whose extravagance impoverishes men, and whose evil -influence perverts their natures. When a young man is thus degraded, -will he stop at any sin or crime? Alas! Mme. Fauvel knew, from her own -sad experience, to what depths even one fault can lead. Although she -believed Prosper guilty, she did not blame him, but considered herself -responsible for his sins. - -Had she not herself banished the poor young man from the fireside -which he had begun to regard as his own? Had she not destroyed his -hopes of happiness, by crushing his pure love for a noble girl, whom -he looked upon as his future wife, and thus driven him into a life of -dissipation and sin? - -She was undecided whether to confide in Madeleine, or bury the secret -in her own breast. - -Fatally inspired, she decided to keep silent. - -When Madeleine returned home at eleven o'clock, Mme. Fauvel not only -was silent as to what had occurred, but even succeeded in so -concealing all traces of her agitation, that she escaped any questions -from her niece. - -Her calmness never left her when M. Fauvel and Lucien returned, -although she was in terror lest her husband should go down to the -cash-room to see that everything was safely locked up. It was not his -habit to open the money-safe at night, but he sometimes did. - -As fate would have it, the banker, as soon as he entered the room, -began to speak of Prosper, saying how distressing it was that so -interesting a young man should be thus throwing himself away, and -wondering what could have happened to make him suddenly cease his -visits at the house, and resort to bad company. - -If M. Fauvel had looked at the faces of his wife and niece while he -harshly blamed the cashier, he would have been puzzled at their -strange expressions. - -All night long Mme. Fauvel suffered the most intolerable agony. She -counted each stroke of the town-clock, as the hours dragged on. - -"In six hours," she said to herself, "in five hours--in four hours--in -three hours--in one hour--all will be discovered; and then what will -happen? Heaven help me!" - -At sunrise she heard the servants moving about the house. Then the -office-shutters opened; then, later, she heard the clerks going into -the bank. - -She attempted to get up, but felt so ill and weak that she sank back -on her pillow; and lying there, trembling like a leaf, bathed in cold -perspiration, she awaited the discovery of the robbery. - -She was leaning over the side of the bed, straining her ear to catch a -sound from the cash-room, when Madeleine, who had just left her, -rushed into the room. - -The white face and wild eyes of the poor girl told Mme. Fauvel that -the crime was discovered. - -"Do you know what has happened, aunt?" cried Madeleine, in a shrill, -horrified tone. "Prosper is accused of robbery, and the police have -come to take him to prison!" - -A groan was Mme. Fauvel's only answer. - -"Raoul or the marquis is at the bottom of this," continued Madeleine -excitedly. - -"How can they be concerned in it, my child?" - -"I can't tell yet; but I only know that Prosper is innocent. I have -just seen him, spoken to him. He would never have looked me in the -face had he been guilty." - -Mme. Fauvel opened her lips to confess all: fear kept her silent. - -"What can these wretches want?" said Madeleine: "what new sacrifice do -they demand? Dishonor Prosper! Good heavens! Why did they not kill him -at once? He would rather be dead than disgraced!" - -Here the entrance of M. Fauvel interrupted Madeleine. The banker was -so angry that he could scarcely speak. - -"The worthless scoundrel!" he cried; "to think of his daring to accuse -me! To insinuate that I robbed my own safe! And that Marquis de -Clameran must needs doubt my good faith in keeping my engagement to -pay his money!" - -Then, without noticing the effect of his story upon the two women, he -proceeded to relate all that had occurred downstairs. - -"I was afraid this extravagance would lead to something terrible," he -said in conclusion; "you know I told you last night that Prosper was -growing worse in his conduct, and that he would get into trouble." - -Throughout the day Madeleine's devotion to her aunt was severely -tried. - -The generous girl saw disgrace heaped upon the man she loved. She had -perfect faith in his innocence; she felt sure she knew who had laid -the trap to ruin him; and yet she could not say a word in his defence. - -Fearing that Madeleine would suspect her of complicity in the theft, -if she remained in bed and betrayed so much agitation, Mme. Fauvel -arose and dressed for breakfast. - -It was a dreary meal. No one tasted a morsel. The servants moved about -on their tiptoes, as silently as if a death had occurred in the -family. - -About two o'clock, a servant came to M. Fauvel's study, and said that -the Marquis de Clameran desired to see him. - -"What!" cried the banker; "does he dare----" - -Then, after a moment's reflection, he added: - -"Ask him to walk up." - -The very name of Clameran had sufficed to arouse all the slumbering -wrath of M. Fauvel. The victim of a robbery, finding his safe empty at -the moment that he was called upon to make a heavy payment, he had -been constrained to conceal his anger and resentment; but now he -determined to have his revenge upon his insolent visitor. - -But the marquis declined to come upstairs. The messenger returned with -the answer that the gentleman had a particular reason for seeing M. -Fauvel in the office below, where the clerks were. - -"What does this fresh impertinence mean?" cried the banker, as he -angrily jumped up and hastened downstairs. - -M. de Clameran was standing in the middle of the room adjoining the -cash-room; M. Fauvel walked up to him, and said bluntly: - -"What do you want now, monsieur? You have been paid your money, and I -have your receipt." - -To the surprise of all the clerks, and the banker himself, the marquis -seemed not in the least offended at this rude greeting, but answered -in a deferential but not at all humble manner: - -"You are hard upon me, monsieur; but I deserve it, and that is why I -am here. A gentleman always acknowledges when he is in the wrong: in -this instance I am the offender; and I flatter myself that my past -will permit me to say so without being accused of cowardice or lack of -self-respect. I insisted upon seeing you here instead of in your -study, because, having been rude to you in the presence of your -clerks, I wished them to hear me apologize for my behavior of this -morning." - -Clameran's speech was so different from his usual overbearing, haughty -conduct, that surprise almost stupefied the banker, and he could only -answer: - -"I must say that I was hurt by your doubts, insinuations, suspicions -of my honor----" - -"This morning," continued the marquis, "I was irritated, and -thoughtlessly gave way to my temper. Although I am gray-headed, my -disposition is as excitable as that of a fiery young man of twenty -years; and I hope you will forget words uttered in a moment of -excitement, and now deeply regretted." - -M. Fauvel, being a kind-hearted though quick-tempered man, could -appreciate Clameran's feelings; and, knowing that his own high -reputation for scrupulous honesty could not be affected by any hasty -or abusive language uttered by a creditor, at once calmed down before -so frank an apology; and, holding out his hand to Clameran, said: - -"Let us forget what happened, monsieur." - -They conversed in a friendly manner for some minutes; and, after -Clameran had explained why he had such pressing need of the money at -that particular hour of the morning, turned to leave, saying that he -would do himself the honor of calling upon Mme. Fauvel during the day. - -"That is, if a visit from me would not be considered intrusive," he -said with a shade of hesitation. "Perhaps, after the trouble of this -morning, she does not wish to be disturbed." - -"Oh, no!" said the banker; "come, by all means; I think a visit from -you would cheer her mind. I shall be from home all day, trying to -trace this unfortunate affair." - -Mme. Fauvel was in the same room where Raoul had threatened to kill -himself the night previous; she looked very pale and ill as she lay on -a sofa. Madeleine was bathing her forehead. - -When M. de Clameran was announced, they both started up as if a -phantom had appeared before them. - -Although Louis had been gay and smiling when he parted from M. Fauvel -downstairs, he now wore a melancholy aspect, as he gravely bowed, and -refused to seat himself in the chair which Mme. Fauvel motioned him to -take. - -"You will excuse me, ladies, for intruding at this time of your -affliction; but I have a duty to fulfil." - -The two women were silent; they seemed to be waiting for him to -explain. He added in an undertone: - -"I know all." - -By an imploring gesture, Mme. Fauvel tried to stop him. She saw that -he was about to reveal her secret to Madeleine. - -But Louis would not see this gesture; he turned his whole attention to -Madeleine, who haughtily said: - -"Explain yourself, monsieur." - -"Only one hour ago," he replied, "I discovered that Raoul last night -forced from his mother the key of the money-safe, and stole three -hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -Madeleine crimsoned with shame and indignation; she leaned over the -sofa, and seizing her aunt's wrist shook it violently, and in a hollow -voice cried: - -"It is false, is it not, aunt? speak!" - -"Alas! alas!" groaned Mme. Fauvel. "What have I done?" - -"You have allowed Prosper to be accused," cried Madeleine; "you have -suffered him to be arrested, and disgraced for life." - -"Forgive me," sighed Mme. Fauvel. "He was about to kill himself; I was -so frightened! Then you know--Prosper was to share the money: he gave -Raoul the secret word--" - -"Good Heavens! Aunt, how could you believe such a falsehood as that?" - -Clameran interrupted them. - -"Unfortunately, what your aunt says of M. Bertomy is the truth," he -said in a sad tone. - -"Your proofs, monsieur; where are your proofs?" - -"Raoul's confession." - -"Raoul is false." - -"That is only too true: but how did he find out the word, if M. -Bertomy did not reveal it? And who left the money in the safe but M. -Bertomy?" - -These arguments had no effect upon Madeleine. - -"And now tell me," she said scornfully, "what became of the money?" - -There was no mistaking the significance of these words: they meant: - -"You are the instigator of the robbery, and of course you have taken -possession of the money." - -This harsh accusation from a girl whom he so passionately loved, when, -grasping bandit as he was, he gave up for her sake all the money -gained by his crime, so cruelly hurt Clameran that he turned livid. -But his mortification and anger did not prevent him from pursuing the -part he had prepared and studied. - -"A day will come, mademoiselle," he said, "when you will deeply regret -having treated me so cruelly. I understand your insinuation; you need -not attempt to deny it." - -"I have no idea of denying anything, monsieur." - -"Madeleine!" remonstrated Mme. Fauvel, who trembled at the rising -anger of the man who held her fate in his hands, "Madeleine, be -careful!" - -"Mademoiselle is pitiless," said Clameran sadly; "she cruelly punishes -an honorable man whose only fault is having obeyed his brother's dying -injunctions. And I am here now, because I believe in the joint -responsibility of all the members of a family." - -Here he slowly drew from his pocket several bundles of bank-notes, and -laid them on the mantel-piece. - -"Raoul stole three hundred and fifty thousand francs," he said: "I -return the same amount. It is more than half my fortune. Willingly -would I give the rest to insure this being the last crime committed by -him." - -Too inexperienced to penetrate this bold, and yet simple plan of -Clameran's, Madeleine was dumb with astonishment; all her calculations -were upset. - -Mme. Fauvel, on the contrary, accepted this restitution as salvation -sent from heaven. - -"Oh, thanks, monsieur, thanks!" she cried, gratefully clasping -Clameran's hand in hers; "you are goodness itself!" - -Louis's eye lit up with pleasure. But he rejoiced too soon. A minute's -reflection brought back all of Madeleine's distrust. She thought this -magnanimity and generosity unnatural in a man whom she considered -incapable of a noble sentiment, and at once concluded that it must -conceal some snare beneath. - -"What are we to do with the money?" she demanded. - -"Restore it to M. Fauvel, mademoiselle." - -"We restore it, monsieur, and how? Restoring the money is denouncing -Raoul, and ruining my aunt. Take back your money, monsieur. We will -not touch it." - -Clameran was too shrewd to insist; he took up the money, and prepared -to leave. - -"I comprehend your refusal, mademoiselle, and must find another way of -accomplishing my wish. But, before retiring, let me say that your -injustice pains me deeply. After the promise you made to me, I had -reason to hope for a kinder welcome." - -"I will keep my promise, monsieur; but not until you have furnished -security." - -"Security! And for what? Pray, explain yourself." - -"Something to protect my aunt against the molestations of Raoul after -my--marriage. What is to prevent his coming to extort money from his -mother after he has squandered my dowry? A man who spends a hundred -thousand francs in four months will soon run through my little -fortune. We are making a bargain; I give you my hand in exchange for -the honor and life of my aunt; and of course you must give me some -guarantee to secure the performance of your promise." - -"Oh! I will give you ample securities," cried Clameran, "such as will -quiet all your suspicious doubts of my good faith. Alas! you will not -believe in my devotion; what shall I do to convince you of its -sincerity? Shall I try to save M. Bertomy?" - -"Thanks for the offer, monsieur," replied Madeleine disdainfully; "if -Prosper is guilty, let him be punished by the law; if he is innocent, -God will protect him." - -Here Madeleine stood up, to signify that the interview was over. - -Clameran bowed, and left the room. - -"What pride! What determination! The idea of her demanding securities -of me!" he said to himself as he slowly walked away. "But the proud -girl shall be humbled yet. She is so beautiful! and, if I did not so -madly love her, I would kill her on the spot!" - -Never had Clameran been so irritated. - -Madeleine's quiet determination and forethought had unexpectedly -thrown him off his well-laid track; not anticipating any such self -assertion on her part, he was disconcerted, and at a loss how to -proceed. - -He knew that it would be useless to attempt deceiving a girl of -Madeleine's character a second time; he saw that she had penetrated -his motives sufficiently to put her on the defensive, and prepare her -for any new surprise. Moreover, she would prevent Mme. Fauvel from -being frightened and forced into submission any longer. - -With mortification and rage, Louis saw that after all his plotting, -when success was in his reach, when his hopes were almost crowned, he -had been foiled and scornfully set at defiance by a girl: the whole -thing would have to be gone over again. - -Although Madeleine had resigned herself to sacrifice, it was still -evident that she had no idea of doing so blindly, and would not hazard -her aunt's and her own happiness upon the uncertainty of a verbal -promise. - -Clameran racked his brain to furnish guarantees; how could he convince -her that Raoul had no idea or desire of annoying Mme. Fauvel in the -future? - -He could not tell Madeleine that her dowry was to be the bribe -received by Raoul for his future good behavior and past crimes. - -The knowledge of all the circumstances of this shameful criminal -intrigue would have reassured her upon her aunt's peace of mind; but -then it would never do to inform her of these details, certainly not -before the marriage. - -What securities could he give? Not one could he think of. - -But Clameran was not one of those slow-minded men who take weeks to -consider a difficulty. When he could not untie a knot, he would cut -it. - -Raoul was a stumbling-block to his wishes, and he swore to rid himself -of his troublesome accomplice as soon as possible. - -Although it was not an easy matter to dispose of so cunning a knave, -Clameran felt no hesitation in undertaking to accomplish his purpose. -He was incited by one of those passions which age renders terrible. - -The more certain he was of Madeleine's contempt and dislike, the more -determined he was to marry her. His love seemed to be a sort of insane -desire to possess and call his own the one being whom he recognized as -his superior in every way. - -But he had sense enough to see that he might ruin his prospects by -undue haste, and that the safest course would be to await the result -of the robbery and its effect upon Prosper. - -He waited in anxious expectation of a summons from Mme. Fauvel. At -last he concluded that Madeleine was waiting for him to make the next -move in the direction of yielding. - -He was right; Madeleine knew that after the last bold step the -accomplices would remain quiet for a while; she knew resistance could -have no worse results than would cowardly submission; and therefore -assumed the entire responsibility of managing the affair so as to keep -at bay both Raoul and Clameran. - -She knew that Mme. Fauvel would be anxious to accept any terms of -peace, but she determined to use all her influence to prevent her -doing this, and to force upon her the necessity of preserving a -dignified silence. - -This accounted for the silence of the two women, who were quietly -waiting for their adversaries to renew hostilities. - -They even succeeded in concealing their anxiety beneath assumed -indifference; never asking any questions about the robbery, or those -in any way connected with it. - -M. Fauvel brought them an account of Prosper's examination, the many -charges brought against him, his obstinate denial of having stolen the -money; and finally how, after great perplexity and close study of the -case by the judge of instruction, the cashier had been discharged for -want of sufficient proof against him. - -Since Clameran's offer to restore the notes, Mme. Fauvel had not -doubted Prosper's guilt. She said nothing, but inwardly accused him of -having seduced her son from the path of virtue, and enticed him into -crime--her son whom she would never cease to love, no matter how great -his faults. - -Madeleine had perfect faith in Prosper's innocence. - -She was so confident of his being restored to liberty that she -ventured to ask her uncle, under pretext of some charitable object, to -give her ten thousand francs, which she sent to the unfortunate victim -of circumstantial evidence; who, from what she had heard of his -poverty, must be in need of assistance. - -In the letter--cut from her prayer-book to avoid detection by writing ---accompanying the money, she advised Prosper to leave France, because -she knew that it would be impossible for a man of his proud nature to -remain on the scene of his disgrace; the greater his innocence, the -more intolerable his suffering. - -Besides, Madeleine, at that time feeling that she would be obliged to -marry Clameran, was anxious to have the man she loved far, far away -from her. - -On the day that this anonymous present was sent, in opposition to the -wishes of Mme. Fauvel, the two poor women were entangled fearfully in -pecuniary difficulties. - -The tradesmen whose money had been squandered by Raoul refused to give -credit any longer, and insisted upon their bills being paid at once; -saying they could not understand how a man of M. Fauvel's wealth and -position could keep them waiting for such insignificant sums. - -The butcher, grocer, and wine-merchant had bills of one, two, and five -hundred francs only; but, not having even that small amount, Mme. -Fauvel had difficulty in prevailing upon them to receive a part on -account, and wait a little longer for the residue. - -Some of the store-keepers threatened to ask the banker for their -money, if everything was not settled before the end of the week. - -Alas! Mme. Fauvel's indebtedness amounted to fifteen thousand francs. - -Madeleine and her aunt had declined all invitations during the winter, -to avoid purchasing evening dresses; having always been remarkable for -their superb toilets, seldom appearing in the same ball-dress twice, -they dared not give rise to comment by wearing their old dresses, and -knowing that M. Fauvel would be the first to ask the cause of this -sudden change, as he liked to see them always the best-dressed women -in the room. - -But at last they were obliged to appear in public. M. Fauvel's most -intimate friends, the Messrs. Jandidier, were about to give a splendid -ball, and, as fate would have it, a fancy ball, which would require -the purchasing of costumes. - -Where would the money come from? - -They had been owing a large bill to their dressmaker for over a year. -Would she consent to furnish them dresses on credit? They were ashamed -to ask her. - -Madeleine's new maid, Palmyre Chocareille, extricated them from this -difficulty. - -This girl, who seemed to have suffered all the minor ills of life-- -which, after all, are the hardest to bear--seemed to have divined her -mistress's anxiety. - -At any rate, she voluntarily informed Madeleine that a friend of hers, -a first-class dressmaker, had just set up for herself, and would be -glad to furnish materials and make the dresses on credit, for the sake -of obtaining the patronage of Mme. Fauvel and her niece, which would -at once bring her plenty of fashionable customers. - -But, after this dilemma was settled, a still greater one presented -itself. - -Mme. Fauvel and her niece could not appear at a ball without jewelry; -and every jewel they owned had been taken by Raoul, and pawned. - -After thinking the matter over, Madeleine decided to ask Raoul to take -some of the stolen money, and redeem the last set of jewels he had -forced from his mother. She informed her aunt of her intention, and -said, in a tone that admitted of no contradiction: - -"Appoint an interview with Raoul: he will not dare to refuse you; and -I will go in your stead." - -The next day, the courageous girl took a cab, and, regardless of the -inclement weather, went to Vesinet. - -She would have been filled with consternation had she known that M. -Verduret and Prosper were following close behind, and witnessed her -interview from the top of a ladder. - -Her bold step was fruitless. Raoul swore that he had divided with -Prosper; that his own half of the money was spent, and that he had not -a napoleon wherewith to redeem anything. - -He even refused to give up the pledges; and Madeleine had to resort to -threats of exposure, before she could induce him to surrender the -tickets of four or five trifling articles that were indispensable to -their toilet. - -Clameran had ordered him to refuse positively to give up a single -ticket, because he hoped that in their distress they would call upon -him for relief. - -The violent altercation witnessed by Clameran's new valet, Joseph -Dubois, had been caused by the exaction of this promise. - -The accomplices were at that time on very bad terms. Clameran was -seeking a safe means of getting rid of Raoul; and the young scamp, -having a presentiment of his uncle's intentions, was determined to -outwit him. - -Nothing but the certainty of impending danger could reconcile them. -The danger was revealed to them both at the Jandidier ball. - -Who was the mysterious mountebank that indulged in such transparent -allusions to Mme. Fauvel's private troubles, and then said, with -threatening significance to Louis: "I was the best friend of your -brother Gaston?" - -Who he was, where he came from, they could not imagine; but they -clearly saw that he was a dangerous enemy, and forthwith attempted to -assassinate him upon his leaving the ball. - -Having been followed and watched by their would-be victim, they became -alarmed--especially when he suddenly disappeared--and wisely decided -that the safest thing they then could do was to return quietly to -their hotel. - -"We cannot be too guarded in our conduct," whispered Clameran; "we -must discover who he is before taking any further steps in this -matter." - -Once more, Raoul tried to induce him to give up his project of -marrying Madeleine. - -"Never!" he exclaimed fiercely, "I will marry her or perish in the -attempt!" - -He thought that, now they were warned, the danger of being caught was -lessened; when on his guard, few people could entrap so experienced -and skilful a rogue. - -Little did Clameran know that a man who was a hundred-fold more -skilful than he was closely pursuing him. - - - -XXII - -THE CATASTROPHE - -Such are the facts that, with an almost incredible talent for -investigation, had been collected and prepared by the stout man with -the jovial face who had taken Prosper under his protection, M. -Verduret. - -Reaching Paris at nine o'clock in the evening, not by the Lyons road -as he had said, but by the Orleans train, M. Verduret hurried up to -the Archangel, where he found the cashier impatiently expecting him. - -"You are about to hear some rich developments," he said to Prosper, -"and see how far back into the past one has to seek for the primary -cause of a crime. All things are linked together and dependent upon -each other in this world of ours. If Gaston de Clameran had not -entered a little cafe at Tarascon to play a game of billiards twenty -years ago, your money-safe would not have been robbed three weeks ago. - -"Valentine de la Verberie is punished in 1866 for the murder committed -for her sake in 1840. Nothing is neglected or forgotten, when stern -Retribution asserts her sway. Listen." - -And he forthwith related all that he had discovered, referring, as he -went along, to a voluminous manuscript which he had prepared, with -many notes and authenticated proofs attached. - -During the last week M. Verduret had not had twenty-four hours' rest, -but he bore no traces of fatigue. His iron muscles braved any amount -of labor, and his elastic nature was too well tempered to give way -beneath such pressure. - -While any other man would have sunk exhausted in a chair, he stood up -and described, with the enthusiasm and captivating animation peculiar -to him, the minutest details and intricacies of the plot that he had -devoted his whole energy to unravelling; personating every character -he brought upon the scene to take part in the strange drama, so that -his listener was bewildered and dazzled by his brilliant acting. - -As Prosper listened to this narrative of events happening twenty years -back, the secret conversations as minutely related as if overheard the -moment they took place, it sounded more like a romance than a -statement of plain facts. - -All these ingenious explanations might be logical, but what foundation -did they possess? Might they not be the dreams of an excited -imagination? - -M. Verduret did not finish his report until four o'clock in the -morning; then he cried, with an accent of triumph: - -"And now they are on their guard, and sharp, wary rascals too: but -they won't escape me; I have cornered them beautifully. Before a week -is over, Prosper, you will be publicly exonerated, and will come out -of this scrape with flying colors. I have promised your father you -shall." - -"Impossible!" said Prosper in a dazed way, "it cannot be!" - -"What?" - -"All this you have just told me." - -M. Verduret opened wide his eyes, as if he could not understand anyone -having the audacity to doubt the accuracy of /his/ report. - -"Impossible, indeed!" he cried. "What! have you not sense enough to -see the plain truth written all over every fact, and attested by the -best authority? Your thick-headedness exasperates me to the last -degree." - -"But how can such rascalities take place in Paris, in our very midst, -without----" - -"Parbleu!" interrupted the fat man, "you are young, my friend! Are you -innocent enough to suppose that crimes, forty times worse than this, -don't occur every day? You think the horrors of the police-court are -the only ones. Pooh! You only read in the /Gazette des Tribunaux/ of -the cruel melodramas of life, where the actors are as cowardly as the -knife, and as treacherous as the poison they use. It is at the family -fireside, often under shelter of the law itself, that the real -tragedies of life are acted; in modern crimes the traitors wear -gloves, and cloak themselves with public position; the victims die, -smiling to the last, without revealing the torture they have endured -to the end. Why, what I have just related to you is an everyday -occurrence; and you profess astonishment." - -"I can't help wondering how you discovered all this tissue of crime." - -"Ah, that is the point!" said the fat man with a self-satisfied smile. -"When I undertake a task, I devote my whole attention to it. Now, make -a note of this: When a man of ordinary intelligence concentrates his -thoughts and energies upon the attainment of an object, he is certain -to obtain ultimate success. Besides that, I have my own method of -working up a case." - -"Still I don't see what grounds you had to go upon." - -"To be sure, one needs some light to guide one in a dark affair like -this. But the fire in Clameran's eye at the mention of Gaston's name -ignited my lantern. From that moment I walked straight to the solution -of the mystery, as I would walk to a beacon-light on a dark night." - -The eager, questioning look of Prosper showed that he would like to -know the secret of his protector's wonderful penetration, and at the -same time be more thoroughly convinced that what he had heard was all -true--that his innocence would be more clearly proved. - -"Now confess," cried M. Verduret, "you would give anything in the -world to find out how I discovered the truth?" - -"I certainly would, for it is the darkest of mysteries, marvellous!" - -M. Verduret enjoyed Prosper's bewilderment. To be sure, he was neither -a good judge nor a distinguished amateur; but he was an astonished -admirer, and sincere admiration is always flattering, no matter whence -it comes. - -"Well," he replied, "I will explain my system. There is nothing -marvellous about it as you will soon see. We worked together to find -the solution of the problem, so you know my reasons for suspecting -Clameran as the prime mover in the robbery. As soon as I had acquired -this certainty, my task was easy. You want to know what I did? I -placed trustworthy people to watch the parties in whom I was most -interested. Joseph Dubois took charge of Clameran, and Nina Gypsy -never lost sight of Mme. Fauvel and her niece." - -"I cannot comprehend how Nina ever consented to this service." - -"That is my secret," replied M. Verduret. "Having the assistance of -good eyes and quick ears on the spot, I went to Beaucaire to inquire -into the past, so as to link it with what I knew of the present. The -next day I was at Clameran; and the first step I took was to find the -son of St. Jean, the old valet. An honest man he was, too; open and -simple as nature herself; and he made a good bargain in selling me his -madder." - -"Madder?" said Prosper with a puzzled look; "what did you----" - -"Of course I wanted to buy his madder. Of course I did not appear to -him as I do to you now. I was a countryman wanting to buy madder; he -had madder for sale; so we began to bargain about the price. The -debate lasted almost all day, during which time we drank a dozen -bottles of wine. About supper-time, St. Jean was as drunk as a -bunghole, and I had purchased nine hundred francs' worth of madder -which your father will sell to-morrow." - -Prosper's astonished countenance made M. Verduret laugh heartily. - -"I risked nine hundred francs," he continued, "but thread by thread I -gathered the whole history of the Clamerans, Gaston's love-affair, his -flight, and the stumbling of the horse ridden by Louis. I found also -that about a year ago Louis returned, sold the chateau to a man named -Fougeroux, whose wife, Mihonne, had a secret interview with Louis the -day of the purchase. I went to see Mihonne. Poor woman! her rascally -husband has pounded all the sense out of her; she is almost idiotic. I -told her I came from the Clameran family, and she at once related to -me everything she knew." - -The apparent simplicity of this mode of investigation confounded -Prosper. He wondered it had not occurred to him before. - -"From that time," continued M. Verduret, "the skein began to -disentangle; I held the principal thread. I now set about finding out -what had become of Gaston. Lafourcade, who is a friend of your father, -informed me that he had bought a foundery, and settled in Oloron, -where he soon after suddenly died. Thirty-six hours later I was at -Oloron." - -"You are certainly indefatigable!" said Prosper. - -"No, but I always strike while the iron is hot. At Oloron I met -Manuel, who had gone there to make a little visit before returning to -Spain. From him I obtained a complete history of Gaston's life, and -all the particulars of his death. Manuel also told me of Louis's -visit; and the inn-keeper described a young workman who was there at -the same time, whom I at once recognized as Raoul." - -"But how did you know of all the conversations between the villains?" -said Prosper. "You seem to be aware of their secret thoughts." - -"You evidently think I have been drawing upon my imagination. You will -soon see to the contrary," said Verduret good-humoredly. "While I was -at work down there, my aids did not sit with their hands tied -together. Mutually distrustful, Clameran and Raoul preserved all the -letters received from each other. Joseph Dubois copied them, or the -important portions of them, and forwarded them to me. Nina spent her -time listening at all doors under her supervision, and sent me a -faithful report. Finally, I have at the Fauvels another means of -investigation which I will reveal to you later." - -"I understand it all now," murmured Prosper. - -"And what have you been doing during my absence, my young friend?" -asked M. Verduret; "have you heard any news?" - -At this question Prosper turned crimson. But he knew that it would -never do to keep silent about his imprudent step. - -"Alas!" he stammered, "I read in a newspaper that Clameran was about -to marry Madeleine; and I acted like a fool." - -"What did you do?" inquired Verduret anxiously. - -"I wrote an anonymous letter to M. Fauvel, informing him that his wife -was in love with Raoul--" - -M. Verduret here brought his clinched fist down upon the little table -near by, with such violence that the thin plank was shivered. His -cheerful face in an instant clouded over. - -"What folly!" he exclaimed, "how could you go and ruin everything?" - -He arose from his seat, and strode up and down the room, oblivious of -the lodgers below, whose windows shook with every angry stamp of his -foot. - -"What made you act so like a child, an idiot, a fool?" he said -indignantly to Prosper. - -"Monsieur!" - -"Here you are, drowning; an honest man springs into the water to save -you, and just as he approaches the shore you entangle his feet to -prevent him from swimming! What was my last order to you when I left -here?" - -"To keep quiet, and not go out of the hotel." - -"Well." - -The consciousness of having done a foolish thing made Prosper appear -like a frightened school-boy, accused by his teacher of playing -truant. - -"It was night, monsieur," he hesitatingly said, "and, having a violent -headache, I took a walk along the quay thinking there was no risk in -my entering a cafe; there I picked up a paper, and read the dreadful -announcement." - -"Did you not promise to trust everything to me?" - -"You were absent, monsieur; and you yourself might have been surprised -by an unexpected--" - -"Only fools are ever surprised into committing a piece of folly," -cried M. Verduret impatiently. "To write an anonymous letter! Do you -know to what you expose me? Breaking a sacred promise made to one of -the few persons whom I highly esteem among my fellow-beings. I shall -be looked upon as a liar, a cheat--I who--" - -He abruptly stopped, as if afraid to trust himself to speak further; -after calming down a little, he turned to Prosper, and said: - -"The best thing we can do is to try and repair the harm you have done. -When and where did you post this idiotic letter?" - -"Yesterday evening, at the Rue du Cardinal Lemoine. It hardly reached -the bottom of the box before I regretted having written it." - -"You had better have regretted it before dropping it in. What time was -it?" - -"About ten o'clock." - -"Then your sweet little letter must have reached M. Fauvel with his -early mail; probably he was alone in his study when he read it." - -"I know he was: he never goes down to the bank until he has opened his -letters." - -"Can you recall the exact terms of your letter? Stop and think, for it -is very important that I should know." - -"Oh, it is unnecessary for me to reflect. I remember the letter as if -I had just written it." - -And almost verbatim he repeated what he had written. - -After attentively listening, M. Verduret sat with a perplexed frown -upon his face, as if trying to discover some means of repairing the -harm done. - -"That is an awkward letter," he finally said, "to come from a person -who does not deal in such things. It leaves everything to be -understood without specifying anything; it is vague, jeering, -insidious. Repeat it to me." - -Prosper obeyed, and his second version did not vary from the first in -a single word. - -"Nothing could be more alarming than that allusion to the cashier," -said the fat man, repeating the words after Prosper. "The question, -'Was it also he who stole Mme. Fauvel's diamonds?' is simply fearful. -What could be more exasperating than the sarcastic advice, 'In your -place, I would not have any public scandal, but would watch my wife?' -The effect of your letter must have been terrible," he added -thoughtfully as he stood with folded arms looking at poor Prosper. "M. -Fauvel is quick-tempered, is he not?" - -"He has a violent temper, when aroused." - -"Then the mischief is not irreparable." - -"What! do you suppose--" - -"I think that an impulsive man is afraid of himself, and seldom -carries out his first angry intentions. That is our chance of -salvation. If, upon the receipt of your bomb-shell, M. Fauvel, unable -to restrain himself, rushed into his wife's room, and cried, 'Where -are your diamonds?' Mme. Fauvel will confess all; and then good-by to -our hopes." - -"Why would this be disastrous?" - -"Because, the moment Mme. Fauvel opens her lips to her husband, our -birds will take flight." - -Prosper had never thought of this eventuality. - -"Then, again," continued M. Verduret, "it would deeply distress -another person." - -"Anyone whom I know?" - -"Yes, my friend, and very well too. I should certainly be chagrined to -the last degree, if these two rascals escape, without having obtained -complete satisfaction from them." - -"It seems to me that you know how to take care of yourself, and can do -anything you please." - -M. Verduret shrugged his shoulders, and said: - -"Did you not perceive the gaps in my narrative?" - -"I did not." - -"That is because you don't know how to listen. In the first place, did -Louis de Clameran poison his brother, or not?" - -"Yes; I am sure of it, from what you tell me." - -"There you are! You are much more certain, young man, than I am. Your -opinion is mine; but what proof have we? None. I skilfully questioned -Dr. C----. He has not the shadow of suspicion; and Dr. C---- is no -quack; he is a cultivated, observing man of high standing. What -poisons produce the effects described? I know of none; and yet I have -studied up on poisons from Pomerania digitalis to Sauvresy aconite." - -"The death took place so opportunely----" - -"That anybody would be convinced of foul play. That is true; but -chance is sometimes a wonderful accomplice in crime. In the second -place, I know nothing of Raoul's antecedents." - -"Is information on that point necessary?" - -"Indispensable, my friend; but we will soon know something. I have -sent off one of my men--excuse me, I mean one of my friends--who is -very expert and adroit, M. Palot; and he writes that he is on the -track. I am interested in the history of this sentimental, sceptical -young rascal. I have an idea that he must have been a brave, honest -sort of youth before Clameran ruined him." - -Prosper was no longer listening. - -M. Verduret's words had inspired him with confidence. Already he saw -the guilty men arraigned before the bar of justice; and enjoyed, in -anticipation, this assize-court drama, where he would be publicly -exonerated and restored to position. - -Then he would seek Madeleine; for now he understood her strange -conduct at the dressmaker's, and knew that she had never ceased to -love him. - -This certainty of future happiness restored all the self-possession -that had deserted him the day he found the safe robbed. For the first -time he was astonished at the peculiarity of his situation. - -Prosper had at first only been surprised at the protection of M. -Verduret and the extent of his investigations: now he asked himself, -what could have been his motives for acting thus? - -What price did he expect for this sacrifice of time and labor? - -His anxiety made him say nervously: - -"It is unjust to us both, monsieur, for you to preserve your incognito -any longer. When you have saved the honor and life of a man, you -should at least let him know whom he is to thank for it." - -"Oh!" said M. Verduret smilingly, "you are not out of the woods yet. -You are not married either: so you must wait a little longer; patience -and faith." - -The clock struck six. - -"Good heavens!" exclaimed M. Verduret. "Can it be six o'clock? I did -hope to have a good night's rest, but I must keep on moving. This is -no time to be asleep." - -He went into the passage, and, leaning over the balusters, called, -"Mme. Alexandre! I say, Mme. Alexandre!" - -The hostess of the Archangel, the portly wife of Fanferlot the -Squirrel, evidently had not been to bed. This fact struck Prosper. - -She appeared, obsequious, smiling, and eager to please. - -"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" she inquired. - -"You can send your--Joseph Dubois and Palmyre to me as soon as -possible. Let me know when they arrive. I will rest a few minutes, and -you can awake me when they come." - -As soon as Mme. Alexandre left the room, the fat man unceremoniously -threw himself on the bed. - -"You have no objections, I suppose?" he said to Prosper. - -In five minutes he was fast asleep; and Prosper sat by the bed -watching him with a perplexed gaze, wondering who this strange man -could be. - -About nine o'clock someone tapped timidly at the door. - -Slight as the noise was, it aroused M. Verduret, who sprang up, and -called out: - -"Who is it?" - -Prosper arose and opened the door. - -Joseph Dubois, the valet of the Marquis of Clameran, entered. - -This important assistant of M. Verduret was breathless from fast -running; and his little rat eyes were more restless than ever. - -"Well, patron, I am glad to see you once more," he cried. "Now you can -tell me what to do; I have been perfectly lost during your absence, -and have felt like a jumping monkey with a broken string. - -"What! did you get frightened too?" - -"Bless me! I think I had cause for alarm when I could not find you -anywhere. Yesterday afternoon I sent you three despatches, to the -addresses you gave me, Lyons, Beaucaire, and Oloron, but received no -answer. I was almost crazy with anxiety when your message reached me -just now." - -"Things are getting hot, then." - -"Hot! They are burning! The place is too warm to hold me any longer; -upon my soul, I can't stand it!" - -M. Verduret occupied himself in repairing his toilet, become -disarranged by lying down. - -When he had finished, he threw himself in an easy-chair, and said to -Joseph Dubois, who remained respectfully standing, cap in hand, like a -soldier awaiting orders: - -"Explain yourself, my boy, and quickly, if you please; no -circumlocution." - -"It is just this, patron. I don't know what your plans are, or what -line you are taking now; but I can just tell you this: that you will -have to wind up the affair pretty quickly." - -"That is your opinion, Master Joseph?" - -"Yes, patron, because if you wait any longer, good-by to our covey: -you will certainly find an empty cage, and the birds flown. You smile? -Yes, I know you are clever, and can accomplish anything; but they are -cunning blades, and as slippery as eels. They know that they are -watched, too." - -"The devil they do!" cried M. Verduret. "Who has been committing -blunders?" - -"Oh! nobody has done anything wrong," replied Joseph. "You know, -patron, that they suspected something long ago. They gave you a proof -of it, the night of the fancy ball; that ugly cut on your arm was the -beginning. Ever since, they have had one eye open all the time. They -had begun to feel easier, when all of a sudden, yesterday, /ma foi/, -they began to smell a rat!" - -"Was that the cause of your telegrams?" - -"Of course. Now listen: yesterday morning when my master got up, about -ten o'clock, he took it into his head to arrange the papers in his -desk; which, by the way, has a disgusting lock which has given me a -deal of trouble. Meanwhile, I pretended to be fixing the fire, so as -to remain in the room to watch him. Patron, the man has an eye like a -Yankee! At the first glance he saw, or rather divined, that his papers -had been meddled with, he turned livid, and swore an oath; Lord, what -an oath!" - -"Never mind the oath; go on." - -"Well, how he discovered the little attentions I had devoted to his -letters, I can't imagine. You know how careful I am. I had put -everything in perfect order; just as I found things I left them, when, -lo and behold! my noble marquis picks up each paper, one at a time, -turns it over, and smells it. I was just thinking I would offer him a -magnifying-glass, when all of a sudden he sprang up, and with one kick -sent his chair across the room, and flew at me with his eyes flashing -like two pistols. 'Somebody has been at my papers,' he shrieked; 'this -letter has been photographed!' B-r-r-r! I am not a coward, but I can -tell you that my heart stood perfectly still; I saw myself as dead as -Caesar, cut into mince-meat; and says I to myself, 'Fanfer--excuse me ---Dubois, my friend, you are lost, dead;' and I thought of Mme. -Alexandre." - -M. Verduret was buried in thought, and paid no attention to the worthy -Joseph's analysis of his personal sensations. - -"What happened next?" said Verduret after a few minutes. - -"Why, he was just as frightened as I was, patron. The rascal did not -even dare to touch me. To be sure, I had taken the precaution to get -out of his reach; we talked with a large table between us. While -wondering what could have enabled him to discover the secret, I -defended myself with virtuous indignation. I said: - -"'It cannot be; M. le marquis is mistaken. Who would dare touch his -papers?' - -"Bast! Instead of listening to me, he flourished an open letter, and -said: - -"'This letter has been photographed! here is proof of it!' and he -pointed to a little yellow spot on the paper, shrieking out, 'Look! -Smell! Smell it, you devil! It is--' I forget the name he called it, -but some acid used by photographers." - -"I know, I know," said M. Verduret; "go on; what next?" - -"Then, patron, we had a scene; what a scene! He ended by seizing me by -the throat, and shaking me like a plum-tree, saying he would shake me -until I told him who I was, what I knew, and where I came from. As if -I knew, myself! I was obliged to account for every minute of my time -since I had been in his service. The devil was worse than a judge of -instruction, in his questions. Then he sent for the hotel porter, who -had charge of the front door, and questioned him closely, but in -English, so that I could not understand. After a while, he cooled -down, and when the boy was gone, presented me with twenty francs, -saying, 'I am sorry I was so sharp with you; you are too stupid to -have been guilty of the offence.'" - -"He said that, did he?" - -"He used those very words to my face, patron." - -"And you think he meant what he said?" - -"Certainly I do." - -The fat man smiled, and whistled a little tune expressive of contempt. - -"If you think that," he said, "Clameran was right in his estimate of -your brilliancy." - -It was easy to see that Joseph Dubois was anxious to hear his patron's -grounds for considering him stupid, but dared not ask. - -"I suppose I am stupid, if you think so," said poor Fanferlot humbly. -"Well, after he had done blustering about the letters, M. le marquis -dressed, and went out. He did not want his carriage, but I saw him -hire a cab at the hotel door. I thought he had perhaps disappeared -forever; but I was mistaken. About five o'clock he returned as gay as -a bull-finch. During his absence, I had telegraphed to you." - -"What! did you not follow him?" - -"I stayed on the spot in case of his return; but one of our friends -kept watch on him, and this friend gave me a report of my dandy's -movements. First he went to a broker's, then to the bank and discount -office: so he must be collecting his money to take a little trip." - -"Is that all he did?" - -"That is all, patron. But I must tell you how the rascals tried to -shut up, 'administratively,' you understand, Mlle. Palmyre. -Fortunately you had anticipated something of the kind, and given -orders to watch over her safety. But for you, she would now be in -prison." - -Joseph looked up to the ceiling by way of trying to remember something -more. Finding nothing there, he said: - -"That is all. I rather think M. Patrigent will rub his hands with -delight when I carry him my report. He did not expect to see me any -more, and has no idea of the facts I have collected to swell the size -of his FILE 113." - -There was a long silence. Joseph was right in supposing that the -crisis had come. M. Verduret was arranging his plan of battle while -waiting for the report of Nina--now Palmyre, upon which depended his -point of attack. - -But Joseph Dubois began to grow restless and uneasy. - -"What must I do now, patron?" he asked. - -"Return to the hotel; probably your master had noticed your absence; -but he will say nothing about it, so continue--" - -Here M. Verduret was interrupted by an exclamation from Prosper, who -was standing near a window. - -"What is the matter?" he inquired. - -"There is Clameran!" cried Prosper, "over there." - -M. Verduret and Joseph ran to the window. - -"Where is he?" said Joseph, "I don't see him." - -"There, at the corner of the bridge, behind that orange-woman's -stall." - -Prosper was right. It was the noble Marquis of Clameran, who, hid -behind the stall, was watching for his servant to come out of the -Archangel. - -At first the quick-sighted Verduret had some doubts whether it was the -marquis, who, being skilled in these hazardous expeditions, managed to -conceal himself behind a pillar so as to elude detection. - -But a moment came, when, elbowed by the pressing crowd, he was obliged -to come out on the pavement in full view of the window. - -"Now don't you see I was right!" cried the cashier. - -"Well," said the amazed Joseph, "I am amazed!" - -M. Verduret seemed not in the least surprised, but quietly said: - -"The game needs hunting. Well, Joseph, my boy, do you still think that -your noble master was duped by your acting injured innocence?" - -"You assured me to the contrary, patron," said Joseph in an humble -tone; "and your opinion is more convincing than all the proofs in the -world." - -"This pretended outburst of rage was premeditated on the part of your -noble master. Knowing that he is being tracked, he naturally wishes to -discover who his adversaries are. You can imagine how uncomfortable he -must be at this uncertainty. Perhaps he thinks his pursuers are some -of his old accomplices, who, being starved, want a piece of his cake. -He will remain there until you come out: then he will come in to find -out who you are." - -"But, patron, I can go home without his seeing me." - -"Yes, I know. You will climb the little wall separating the Archangel -from the wine-merchant's yard, and keep along the stationer's area, -until you reach the Rue de la Huchette." - -Poor Joseph looked as if he had just received a bucket of ice-water -upon his head. - -"Exactly the way I was going, patron," he gasped out. "I heard that -you knew every plank and door of all the houses in Paris, and it -certainly must be so." - -The fat man made no reply to Joseph's admiring remarks. He was -thinking how he could catch Clameran. - -As to the cashier, he listened wonderingly, watching these strangers, -who seemed determined to reinstate him in public opinion, and punish -his enemies, while he himself stood by powerless and bewildered. What -their motives for befriending him could be, he vainly tried to -discover. - -"I will tell you what I can do," said Joseph after deep thought. - -"What is it?" - -"I can innocently walk out of the front door, and loaf along the -street until I reach the Hotel du Louvre." - -"And then?" - -"Dame! Clameran will come in and question Mme. Alexandre, whom you can -instruct beforehand; and she is smart enough to put any sharper off -the track." - -"Bad plan!" pronounced M. Verduret decidedly; "a scamp so compromised -as Clameran is not easily put off the track; now his eyes are opened, -he will be pretty hard to catch." - -Suddenly, in a brief tone of authority which admitted of no -contradiction, the fat man said: - -"I have a way. Has Clameran, since he found that his papers had been -searched, seen Lagors?" - -"No, patron." - -"Perhaps he has written to him?" - -"I'll bet you my head he has not. Having your orders to watch his -correspondence, I invented a little system which informs me every time -he touches a pen; during the last twenty-four hours the pens have not -been touched." - -"Clameran went out yesterday." - -"But the man who followed him says he wrote nothing on the way." - -"Then we have time yet!" cried Verduret. "Hurry! Hurry! I give you -fifteen minutes to make yourself a head; you know the sort; I will -watch the rascal until you come up." - -The delighted Joseph disappeared in a twinkling; while Prosper and M. -Verduret remained at the window observing Clameran, who, according to -the movements of the crowd, was sometimes lost to sight, and sometimes -just in front of the window, but was evidently determined not to quit -his post until he had obtained the information he sought. - -"Why do you devote yourself exclusively to the marquis?" asked -Prosper. - -"Because, my friend," replied M. Verduret, "because--that is my -business, and not yours." - -Joseph Dubois had been granted a quarter of an hour in which to -metamorphose himself; before ten minutes had elapsed he reappeared. - -The dandified coachman with Bergami whiskers, red vest, and foppish -manners, was replaced by a sinister-looking individual, whose very -appearance was enough to scare any rogue. - -His black cravat twisted around a paper collar, and ornamented by an -imitation diamond pin; his long-tailed black boots and heavy cane, -revealed the employee of the Rue de Jerusalem, as plainly as the -shoulder-straps mark a soldier. - -Joseph Dubois had vanished forever; and from his livery, phoenix-like -and triumphant, arose the radiant Fanferlot, surnamed the Squirrel. - -When Fanferlot entered the room, Prosper uttered a cry of surprise and -almost fright. - -He recognized the man who had assisted the commissary of police to -examine the bank on the day of the robbery. - -M. Verduret examined his aide with a satisfied look, and said: - -"Not bad! There is enough of the police-court air about you to alarm -even an honest man. You understood me perfectly this time." - -Fanferlot was transported with delight at this compliment. - -"What must I do now, patron?" he inquired. - -"Nothing difficult for an adroit man: but remember, upon the precision -of our movements depends the success of my plan. Before arresting -Lagors, I wish to dispose of Clameran. Now that the rascals are -separated, the first thing to do is to prevent their coming together." - -"I understand," said Fanferlot, snapping his little rat-like eyes; "I -am to create a diversion." - -"Exactly. Go out by the Rue de la Huchette, and hasten to St. Michel's -bridge; loaf along the bank, and finally sit on the steps of the quay, -so that Clameran may know he is being watched. If he doesn't see you, -do something to attract his attention." - -"Parbleu! I will throw a stone into the water," said Fanferlot, -rubbing his hands with delight at his own brilliant idea. - -"As soon as Clameran has seen you," continued M. Verduret, "he will be -alarmed, and instantly decamp. Knowing there are reasons why the -police should be after him, he will hasten to escape you; then comes -the time for you to keep wide awake; he is a slippery eel, and cunning -as a rat." - -"I know all that; I was not born yesterday." - -"So much the better. You can convince him of that. Well, knowing you -are at his heels, he will not dare to return to the Hotel du Louvre, -for fear of being called on by troublesome visitors. Now, it is very -important that he should not return to the hotel." - -"But suppose he does?" said Fanferlot. - -M. Verduret thought for a minute, and then said: - -"It is not probable that he will do so; but if he should, you must -wait until he comes out again, and continue to follow him. But he -won't enter the hotel; very likely he will take the cars: but in that -event don't lose sight of him, no matter if you have to follow him to -Siberia. Have you money with you?" - -"I will get some from Mme. Alexandre." - -"Very good. Ah! one more word. If the rascal takes the cars, send me -word. If he beats about the bush until night, be on your guard, -especially in lonely places; the desperado is capable of any -enormity." - -"If necessary, must I fire?" - -"Don't be rash; but, if he attacks you, of course defend yourself. -Come, 'tis time you were gone." - -Dubois-Fanferlot went out. Verduret and Prosper resumed their post of -observation. - -"Why all this secrecy?" inquired Prosper. "Clameran is charged with -ten times worse crimes than I was ever accused of, and yet my disgrace -was made as public as possible." - -"Don't you understand," replied the fat man, "that I wish to separate -the cause of Raoul from that of the marquis? But, sh! look!" - -Clameran had left his place near the orange-woman's stand, and -approached the bridge, where he seemed to be trying to make out some -unexpected object. - -"Ah!" said M. Verduret; "he has just discovered our man." - -Clameran's uneasiness was quite apparent; he walked forward a few -steps, as if intending to cross the bridge; then, suddenly turning -around, rapidly walked in the direction of the Rue St. Jacques. - -"He is caught!" cried M. Verduret with delight. - -At that moment the door opened, and Mme. Nina Gypsy, /alias/ Palmyre -Chocareille, entered. - -Poor Nina! Each day spent in the service of Madeleine seemed to have -aged her a year. - -Tears had dimmed the brilliancy of her beautiful black eyes; her rosy -cheeks were pale and hollow, and her merry smile was quite gone. - -Poor Gypsy, once so gay and spirited, now crushed beneath the burden -of her sorrows, was the picture of misery. - -Prosper thought that, wild with joy at seeing him, and proud of having -so nobly devoted herself to his interest, Nina would throw her arms -around his neck, and say how much she loved him. To his surprise, Nina -scarcely spoke to him. Although his every thought had been devoted to -Madeleine since he discovered the reasons for her cruelty, he was hurt -by Nina's cold manner. - -The girl stood looking at M. Verduret with a mixture of fear and -devotion, like a poor dog that has been cruelly treated by its master. - -He, however, was kind and gentle in his manner toward her. - -"Well, my dear," he said encouragingly, "what news do you bring me?" - -"Something is going on at the house, monsieur, and I have been trying -to get here to tell you; at last, Mlle. Madeleine made an excuse for -sending me out." - -"You must thank Mlle. Madeleine for her confidence in me. I suppose -she carried out the plan we decided upon?" - -"Yes, monsieur." - -"She receives the Marquis of Clameran's visits?" - -"Since the marriage has been decided upon, he comes every day, and -mademoiselle receives him with kindness. He seems to be delighted." - -These answers filled Prosper with anger and alarm. The poor young man, -not comprehending the intricate moves of M. Verduret, felt as if he -were being tossed about from pillar to post, and made the tool and -laughing-stock of everybody. - -"What!" he cried; "this worthless Marquis of Clameran, an assassin and -a thief, allowed to visit at M. Fauvel's, and pay his addresses to -Madeleine? Where are the promises, monsieur, which you have made? Have -you merely been amusing yourself by raising my hopes, to dash them--" - -"Enough!" interrupted M. Verduret harshly; "you are too green to -understand anything, my friend. If you are incapable of helping -yourself, at least have sense enough to refrain from importuning those -who are working for you. Do you not think you have already done -sufficient mischief?" - -Having administered this rebuke, he turned to Gypsy, and said in -softer tones: - -"Go on, my child: what have you discovered?" - -"Nothing positive, monsieur; but enough to make me nervous, and -fearful of impending danger. I am not certain, but suspect from -appearances, that some dreadful catastrophe is about to happen. It may -only be a presentiment. I cannot get any information from Mme. Fauvel; -she refuses to answer any hints, and moves about like a ghost, never -opening her lips. She seems to be afraid of her niece, and to be -trying to conceal something from her." - -"What about M. Fauvel?" - -"I was just about to tell you, monsieur. Some fearful misfortune has -happened to him, you may depend upon it. He wanders about as if he had -lost his mind. Something certainly occurred yesterday; his voice even -is changed. He is so harsh and irritable that mademoiselle and M. -Lucien were wondering what could be the matter with him. He seems to -be on the eve of giving way to a burst of anger; and there is a wild, -strange look about his eyes, especially when he looks at madame. -Yesterday evening, when M. de Clameran was announced, he jumped up, -and hurried out of the room, saying that he had some work to do in his -study." - -A triumphant exclamation from M. Verduret interrupted Mme. Gypsy. He -was radiant. - -"Hein!" he said to Prosper, forgetting his bad humor of a few minutes -before; "Hein! What did I tell you?" - -"He has evidently----" - -"Been afraid to give way to his first impulse; of course he has. He is -now seeking for proofs of your assertions. He must have them by this -time. Did the ladies go out yesterday?" - -"Yes, a part of the day." - -"What became of M. Fauvel?" - -"The ladies took me with them; we left M. Fauvel at home." - -"Not a doubt of it!" cried the fat man; "he looked for proofs, and -found them, too! Your letter told him exactly where to go. Ah, -Prosper, that unfortunate letter gives more trouble than everything -else together." - -These words seemed to throw a sudden light on Mme. Gypsy's mind. - -"I understand it now!" she exclaimed. "M. Fauvel knows everything." - -"That is, he thinks he knows everything; and what he has been led to -fear, and thinks he has discovered, is worse than the true state of -affairs." - -"That accounts for the order which M. Cavaillon overheard him give to -his servant-man, Evariste." - -"What order?" - -"He told Evariste to bring every letter that came to the house, no -matter to whom addressed, into his study, and hand them to him; saying -that, if this order was disobeyed, he should be instantly discharged." - -"At what time was this order given?" asked M. Verduret. - -"Yesterday afternoon." - -"That is what I was afraid of," cried M. Verduret. "He has clearly -made up his mind what course to pursue, and is keeping quiet so as to -make his vengeance more sure. The question is, Have we still time to -counteract his projects? Have we time to convince him that the -anonymous letter was incorrect in some of its assertions?" - -He tried to hit upon some plan for repairing the damage done by -Prosper's foolish letter. - -"Thank you for your information, my dear child," he said after a long -silence. "I will decide at once what steps to take, for it will never -do to sit quietly and let things go on in this way. Return home -without delay, and be careful of everything you say and do; for M. -Fauvel suspects you of being in the plot. Send me word of anything -that happens, no matter how insignificant it may be." - -Nina, thus dismissed, did not move, but said timidly: - -"What about Caldas, monsieur?" - -This was the third time during the last fortnight that Prosper had -heard this name, Caldas. - -The first time it had been whispered in his ear by a respectable- -looking, middle-aged man, who offered his protection one day, when -passing through the police-office passage. - -The second time, the judge of instruction had mentioned it in -connection with Gypsy's history. - -Prosper thought over all the men he had ever been connected with, but -could recall none named Caldas. - -The impassable M. Verduret started and trembled at the mention of this -name, but, quickly recovering himself, said: - -"I promised to find him for you, and I will keep my promise. Now you -must go; good-morning." - -It was twelve o'clock, and M. Verduret suddenly remembered that he was -hungry. He called Mme. Alexandre, and the beaming hostess of the -Archangel soon placed a tempting breakfast before Prosper and his -friend. - -But the savory broiled oysters and flaky biscuit failed to smooth the -perplexed brow of M. Verduret. - -To the eager questions and complimentary remarks of Mme. Alexandre, he -answered: - -"Chut, chut! let me alone; keep quiet." - -For the first time since he had known the fat man, Prosper saw him -betray anxiety and hesitation. - -He remained silent as long as he could, and then uneasily said: - -"I am afraid I have embarrassed you very much, monsieur." - -"Yes, you have dreadfully embarrassed me," replied M. Verduret. "What -on earth to do now, I don't know! Shall I hasten matters, or keep -quiet and wait for the next move? And I am bound by a sacred promise. -Come, we had better go and advise with the judge of instruction. He -can assist me. Come with me; let us hurry." - - - -XXIII - -As M. Verduret had anticipated, Prosper's letter had a terrible effect -upon M. Fauvel. - -It was toward nine o'clock in the morning, and M. Fauvel had just -entered his study when his mail was brought in. - -After opening a dozen business letters, his eyes fell on the fatal -missive sent by Prosper. - -Something about the writing struck him as peculiar. - -It was evidently a disguised hand, and although, owing to the fact of -his being a millionnaire, he was in the habit of receiving anonymous -communications, sometimes abusive, but generally begging him for -money, this particular letter filled him with an indefinite -presentiment of evil. A cold chill ran through his heart, and he -dreaded to open it. - -With absolute certainty that he was about to learn of a new calamity, -he broke the seal, and opening the coarse cafe paper, was shocked by -the following words: - - - "DEAR SIR--You have handed your cashier over to the law, and you - acted properly, convinced as you were of his dishonesty. - - "But if it was he who took three hundred and fifty thousand francs - from your safe, was it he also who took Mme. Fauvel's diamonds?" - - -This was a terrible blow to a man whose life hitherto had been an -unbroken chain of prosperity, who could recall the past without one -bitter regret, without remembering any sorrow deep enough to bring -forth a tear. - -What! His wife deceive him! And among all men, to choose one vile -enough to rob her of her jewels, and force her to be his accomplice in -the ruin of an innocent young man! - -For did not the letter before him assert this to be a fact, and tell -him how to convince himself of its truth? - -M. Fauvel was as bewildered as if he had been knocked on the head with -a club. It was impossible for his scattered ideas to take in the -enormity of what these dreadful words intimated. He seemed to be -mentally and physically paralyzed, as he sat there staring blankly at -the letter. - -But this stupefaction suddenly changed to indignant rage. - -"What a fool I am!" he cried, "to listen to such base lies, such -malicious charges against the purest woman whom God ever sent to bless -a man!" - -And he angrily crumpled up the letter, and threw it into the empty -fireplace, saying: - -"I will forget having read it. I will not soil my mind by letting it -dwell upon such turpitude!" - -He said this, and he thought it; but, for all that, he could not open -the rest of his letters. The anonymous missive stood before his eyes -in letters of fire, and drove every other thought from his mind. - -That penetrating, clinging, all-corroding worm, suspicion, had taken -possession of his soul; and as he leaned over his desk, with his face -buried in his hands, thinking over many things which had lately -occurred, insignificant at the time, but fearfully ominous now, this -unwillingly admitted germ of suspicion grew and expanded until it -became certainty. - -But, resolved that he would not think of his wife in connection with -so vile a deed, he imagined a thousand wild excuses for the mischief- -maker who took this mode of annoying him; of course there was no truth -in his assertions, but from curiosity he would like to know who had -written it. And yet suppose---- - -"Merciful God! can it be true?" he wildly cried, as the idea of his -wife's guilt would obstinately return to his troubled mind. - -Thinking that the writing might throw some light on the mystery, he -started up and tremblingly picked the fatal letter out of the ashes. -Carefully smoothing it out, he laid it on his desk, and studied the -heavy strokes, light strokes, and capitals of every word. - -"It must be from some of my clerks," he finally said, "someone who is -angry with me for refusing to raise his salary; or perhaps it is the -one that I dismissed the other day." - -Clinging to this idea, he thought over all the young men in his bank; -but not one could he believe capable of resorting to so base a -vengeance. - -Then he wondered where the letter had been posted, thinking this might -throw some light upon the mystery. He looked at the envelope, and read -the post-mark: - -"Rue du Cardinal Lemoine." - -This fact told him nothing. - -Once more he read the letter, spelling over each word, and trying to -put a different construction on the horrible phrases that stared him -in the face. - -It is generally agreed that an anonymous letter should be treated with -silent contempt, and cast aside as the malicious lies of a coward who -dares not say to a man's face what he secretly commits to paper, and -forces upon him. - -This is all very well in theory, but is difficult to practise when the -anonymous letter comes. You throw it in the fire, it burns; but, -although the paper is destroyed by the flames, doubt remains. -Suspicion arises from its ashes, like a subtle poison penetrates the -inmost recesses of the mind, weakens its holiest beliefs, and destroys -its faith. - -The trail of the serpent is left. - -The wife suspected, no matter how unjustly, is no longer the wife in -whom her husband trusted as he would trust himself: the pure being who -was above suspicion no longer exists. Suspicion, no matter whence the -source, has irrevocably tarnished the brightness of his idol. - -Unable to struggle any longer against these conflicting doubts, M. -Fauvel determined to resolve them by showing the letter to his wife; -but a torturing thought, more terrible than any he had yet suffered, -made him sink back in his chair in despair. - -"Suppose it be true!" he muttered to himself; "suppose I have been -miserably duped! By confiding in my wife, I shall put her on her -guard, and lose all chance of discovering the truth." - -Thus were realized all Verduret's presumptions. - -He had said, "If M. Fauvel does not yield to his first impulse, if he -stops to reflect, we have time to repair the harm done." - -After long and painful meditation, the banker finally decided to wait, -and watch his wife. - -It was a hard struggle for a man of his frank, upright nature, to play -the part of a domestic spy, and jealous husband. - -Accustomed to give way to sudden bursts of anger, but quickly -mastering them, he would find it difficult to be compelled to preserve -his self-restraint, no matter how dreadful the discoveries might be. -When he collected the proofs of guilt one by one, he must impose -silence upon his resentment, until fully assured of possessing certain -evidence. - -There was one simple means of ascertaining whether the diamonds had -been pawned. - -If the letter lied in this instance, he would treat it with the scorn -it deserved. If, on the other hand, it should prove to be true! - -At this moment, the servant announced breakfast; and M. Fauvel looked -in the glass before leaving his study, to see if his face betrayed the -emotion he felt. He was shocked at the haggard features which it -reflected. - -"Have I no nerve?" he said to himself: "oh! I must and shall control -my feelings until I find out the truth." - -At table he talked incessantly, so as to escape any questions from his -wife, who, he saw, was uneasy at the sight of his pale face. - -But, all the time he was talking, he was casting over in his mind -expedients of getting his wife out of the house long enough for him to -search her bureau. - -At last he asked Mme. Fauvel if she were going out before dinner. - -"Yes," said she: "the weather is dreadful, but Madeleine and I must do -some shopping." - -"At what time shall you go?" - -"Immediately after breakfast." - -He drew a long breath as if relieved of a great weight. - -In a short time he would know the truth. - -His uncertainty was so torturing to the unhappy man that he preferred -the most dreadful reality to his present agony. - -Breakfast over, he lighted a cigar, but did not remain in the dining- -room to smoke it, as was his habit. He went into his study to try and -compose his nerves. - -He took the precaution to send Lucien on a message so as to be alone -in the house. - -After the lapse of half an hour, he heard the carriage roll away with -his wife and niece. - -Hurrying into Mme. Fauvel's room, he opened the drawer of the -chiffonnier, where she kept her jewels. - -The last dozen or more leather and velvet boxes, containing superb -sets of jewelry which he had presented to her, were gone! - -Twelve boxes remained. He nervously opened them. - -They were all empty! - -The anonymous letter had told the truth. - -"Oh, it cannot be!" he gasped in broken tones. "Oh, no, no!" - -He wildly pulled open every drawer in the vain hope of finding them -packed away. Perhaps she kept them elsewhere. - -He tried to hope that she had sent them to be reset; but no, they were -all superbly set in the latest fashion; and, moreover, she never would -have sent them all at once. He looked again. - -Nothing! not one jewel could he find. - -He remembered that he had asked his wife at the Jandidier ball why she -did not wear her diamonds; and she had replied with a smile: - -"Oh! what is the use? Everybody knows them so well; and, besides, they -don't suit my costume." - -Yes, she had made the answer without blushing, without showing the -slightest sign of agitation or shame. - -What hardened impudence! What base hypocrisy concealed beneath an -innocent, confiding manner! - -And she had been thus deceiving him for twenty years! But suddenly a -gleam of hope penetrated his confused mind--slight, barely possible; -still a straw to cling to: - -"Perhaps Valentine has put her diamonds in Madeleine's room." - -Without stopping to consider the indelicacy of what he was about to -do, he hurried into the young girl's room, and pulled open one drawer -after another. What did he find? - -Not Mme. Fauvel's diamonds; but Madeleine's seven or eight boxes also -empty. - -Great heavens! Was this gentle girl, whom he had treated as a -daughter, an accomplice in this deed of shame? Had she contributed her -jewelry to add to the disgrace of the roof that sheltered her? - -This last blow was almost too much for the miserable man. He sank -almost lifeless into a chair, and wringing his hands, groaned over the -wreck of his happiness. Was this the happy future to which he had -looked forward? Was the fabric of his honor, well-being, and domestic -bliss, to be dashed to the earth and forever lost in a day? Were his -twenty years' labor and high-standing to end thus in shame and sorrow? - -Apparently nothing was changed in his existence; he was not materially -injured; he could not reach forth his hand, and heal or revenge the -smarting wound; the objects around him were unchanged; everything went -on in the outside world just as it had gone on during the last twenty -years; and yet what a horrible change had taken place in his own -heart! While the world envied his prosperity and happiness, here he -sat, more heartsore and wearied of life than the worst criminal that -ever stood before the inquisition. - -What! Valentine, the pure young girl whom he had loved and married in -spite of her poverty, in spite of her cold offering of calm affection -in return for his passionate devotion; Valentine, the tender, loving -wife, who, before a year of married life had rolled by, so often -assured him that her affection had grown into a deep, confiding love, -that her devotion had grown stronger every day, and that her only -prayer was that God would take them both together, since life would be -a burden without her noble husband to shield and cherish her--could -she have been acting a lie for twenty years? - -She, the darling wife, the mother of his sons! - -His sons? Good God! Were they his sons? - -If she could deceive him now when she was silver-haired, had she not -deceived him when she was young? - -Not only did he suffer in the present, but the uncertainty of the past -tortured his soul. - -He was like a man who is told that the exquisite wine he has drank -contains poison. - -Confidence is never half-way: it is, or it is not. His confidence was -gone. His faith was dead. - -The wretched banker had rested his every hope and happiness on the -love of his wife. Believing that she had proved faithless, that she -had played him false, and was unworthy of trust, he admitted no -possibility of peaceful joy, and felt tempted to seek consolation from -self-destruction. What had he to live for now, save to mourn over the -ashes of the past? - -But this dejection did not last long. Indignant anger, and thirst for -vengeance, made him start up and swear that he would lose no time in -vain regrets. - -M. Fauvel well knew that the fact of the diamonds being stolen was not -sufficient ground upon which to bring an accusation against any of the -accomplices. - -He must possess overwhelming proofs before taking any active steps. -Success depended upon present secrecy. - -He began by calling his valet, and ordering him to bring to him every -letter that should come to the house. - -He then wrote to a notary at St. Remy, for minute and authentic -information about the Lagors family, and especially about Raoul. - -Finally, following the advice of the anonymous letter, he went to the -Prefecture of Police, hoping to obtain a biography of Clameran. - -But the police, fortunately for many people, are as discreetly silent -as the grave. They guard their secrets as a miser his treasure. - -Nothing but an order from the chief judge could open those formidable -green boxes, and reveal their secrets. - -M. Fauvel was politely asked what motives urged him to inquire into -the past life of a French citizen; and, as he declined to state his -reasons, the chief of police told him he had better apply to the -Procureur for the desired information. - -This advice he could not follow. He had sworn that the secret of his -wrongs should be confined to the three persons interested. He chose to -avenge his own injuries, to be alone the judge and executioner. - -He returned home more angry than ever; there he found the despatch -answering the one which he had sent to St. Remy. It was as follows: - - - "The Lagors are very poor, and there has never been any member of - the family named Raoul. Mme. Lagors had no son, only two - daughters." - - -This information dashed his last hope. - -The banker thought, when he discovered his wife's infamy, that she had -sinned as deeply as a woman could sin; but he now saw that she had -practised a system more shocking than the crime itself. - -"Wretched creature!" he cried with anguish; "in order to see her lover -constantly, she dared introduce him to me under the name of a nephew -who never existed. She had the shameless courage to bring him beneath -her husband's roof, and seat him at my fireside, between my sons; and -I, confiding fool that I was, welcomed the villain, and lent him -money." - -Nothing could equal the pain of wounded pride and mortification which -he suffered at the thought that Raoul and Mme. Fauvel had amused -themselves with his good-natured credulity and obtuseness. - -Nothing but death could wipe out an injury of this nature. But the -very bitterness of his resentment enabled him to restrain himself -until the time for punishment came. With grim satisfaction he promised -himself that his acting would be as successful as theirs. - -That day he succeeded in concealing his agitation, and kept up a flow -of talk at dinner; but at about nine o'clock, when Clameran called on -the ladies, he rushed from the house, for fear that he would be unable -to control his indignation at the sight of this destroyer of his -happiness; and did not return home until late in the night. - -The next day he reaped the fruit of his prudence. - -Among the letters which his valet brought him at noon, was one bearing -the post-mark of Vesinet. - -He carefully opened the envelope, and read: - - - "DEAR AUNT--It is imperatively necessary for me to see you to-day; - so do not fail to come to Vesinet. - - "I will explain why I give you this trouble, instead of calling at - your house. - -"RAOUL." - - -"I have them now!" cried M. Fauvel trembling with satisfaction at the -near prospect of vengeance. - -Eager to lose no time, he opened a drawer, took out a revolver, and -examined the hammer to see if it worked easily. - -He imagined himself alone, but a vigilant eye was watching his -movements. Gypsy, immediately upon her return from the Archangel, -stationed herself at the key-hole of the study-door, and saw all that -occurred. - -M. Fauvel laid the pistol on the mantel-piece, and nervously resealed -the letter, which he then took to the box where the letters were -usually left, not wishing anyone to know that Raoul's letter had -passed through his hands. - -He was only absent two minutes, but, inspired by the imminence of the -danger, Gypsy darted into the study, and rapidly extracted the balls -from the revolver. - -"Thank Heaven!" she murmured: "this peril is averted, and M. Verduret -will now perhaps have time to prevent a murder. I must send Cavaillon -to tell him." - -She hurried into the bank, and sent the clerk with a message, telling -him to leave it with Mme. Alexandre, if M. Verduret had left the -hotel. - -An hour later, Mme. Fauvel ordered her carriage, and went out. - -M. Fauvel jumped into a hackney-coach, and followed her. - -"God grant that M. Verduret may reach there in time!" cried Nina to -herself, "otherwise Mme. Fauvel and Raoul are lost." - - - -XXIV - -The moment that the Marquis of Clameran perceived that Raoul de Lagors -was the only obstacle between him and Madeleine, he swore that the -obstacle should soon be removed. - -That very day he took steps for the accomplishment of his purpose. As -Raoul was walking out to Vesinet about midnight, he was stopped at a -lonely spot, by three men, who asked him what o'clock it was; while -looking at his watch, the ruffians fell upon him suddenly, and but for -Raoul's wonderful strength and agility, would have left him dead on -the spot. - -As it was, he soon, by his skilfully plied blows (for he had become a -proficient in fencing and boxing in England), made his enemies take to -their heels. - -He quietly continued his walk home, fully determined to be hereafter -well armed when he went out at night. - -He never for an instant suspected his accomplice of having instigated -the assault. - -But two days afterward, while sitting in a cafe, a burly, vulgar- -looking man, a stranger to him, interrupted him several times while -talking, and, after making several rough speeches as if trying to -provoke a quarrel, finally threw a card in his face, saying its owner -was ready to grant him satisfaction when and where he pleased. - -Raoul rushed toward the man to chastise him on the spot; but his -friends held him back, telling him that it would be much more -gentlemanly to run a sword through his vulgar hide, than have a -scuffle in a public place. - -"Very well, then: you will hear from me to-morrow," he said scornfully -to his assailant. "Wait at your hotel until I send two friends to -arrange the matter with you." - -As soon as the stranger had left, Raoul recovered from his excitement, -and began to wonder what could have been the motive for this evidently -premeditated insult. - -Picking up the card of the bully, he read: - - -W. H. B. JACOBSON. -Formerly Garibaldian volunteer, -Ex-officer of the army of the South. -(Italy, America.) - -30, Rue Leonie. - - -Raoul had seen enough of the world to know that these heroes who cover -their visiting-cards with titles have very little glory elsewhere than -in their own conceit. - -Still the insult had been offered in the presence of others; and, no -matter who the offender was, it must be noticed. Early the next -morning Raoul sent two of his friends to make arrangements for a duel. -He gave them M. Jacobson's address, and told them to report at the -Hotel du Louvre, where he would wait for them. - -Having dismissed his friends, Raoul went to find out something about -M. Jacobson; and, being an expert at the business of unravelling plots -and snares, he determined to discover who was at the bottom of this -duel into which he had been decoyed. - -The information obtained was not very promising. - -M. Jacobson, who lived in a very suspicious-looking little hotel whose -inmates were chiefly women of light character, was described to him as -an eccentric gentleman, whose mode of life was a problem difficult to -solve. No one knew his means of support. - -He reigned despotically in the hotel, went out a great deal, never -came in until midnight, and seemed to have no capital to live upon, -save his military titles, and a talent for carrying out whatever was -undertaken for his own benefit. - -"That being his character," thought Raoul, "I cannot see what object -he can have in picking a quarrel with me. What good will it do him to -run a sword through my body? Not the slightest; and, moreover, his -pugnacious conduct is apt to draw the attention of the police, who, -from what I hear, are the last people this warrior would like to have -after him. Therefore he must have some reason for pursuing me; and I -must find out what it is." - -The result of his meditations was, that Raoul, upon his return to the -Hotel du Louvre, did not mention a word of his adventure to Clameran, -whom he found already up. - -At half-past eight his seconds arrived. - -M. Jacobson had selected the sword, and would fight that very hour, in -the woods of Vincennes. - -"Well, come along," cried Raoul gayly. "I accept the gentleman's -conditions." - -They found the Garibaldian waiting; and after an interchange of a few -thrusts Raoul was slightly wounded in the right shoulder. - -The "Ex-superior officer of the South" wished to continue the combat; -but Raoul's seconds--brave young men--declared that honor was -satisfied, and that they had no intention of subjecting their friend's -life to unnecessary hazards. - -The ex-officer was forced to admit that this was but fair, and -unwillingly retired from the field. Raoul went home delighted at -having escaped with nothing more serious than a little loss of blood, -and resolved to keep clear of all so-called Garibaldians in the -future. - -In fact, a night's reflection had convinced him that Clameran was the -instigator of the two attempts to kill him. Mme. Fauvel having told -him what conditions Madeleine placed on her consent to marriage, Raoul -instantly saw how necessary his removal would be, now that he was an -impediment in the way of Clameran's success. He recalled a thousand -little remarks and events of the last few days, and, on skilfully -questioning the marquis, had his suspicions changed into certainty. - -This conviction that the man whom he had so materially assisted in his -criminal plans was so basely ungrateful as to turn against him, and -hire assassins to murder him in cold blood, inspired in Raoul a -resolution to take speedy vengeance upon his treacherous accomplice, -and at the same time insure his own safety. - -This treason seemed monstrous to Raoul. He was as yet not sufficiently -experienced in ruffianism to know that one villain always sacrifices -another to advance his own projects; he was credulous enough to -believe in the adage, "there's honor among thieves." - -His rage was naturally mingled with fright, well knowing that his life -hung by a thread, when it was threatened by a daring scoundrel like -Clameran. - -He had twice miraculously escaped; a third attempt would more than -likely prove fatal. - -Knowing his accomplice's nature, Raoul saw himself surrounded by -snares; he saw death before him in every form; he was equally afraid -of going out, and of remaining at home. He only ventured with the most -suspicious caution into the most public places; he feared poison more -than the assassin's knife, and imagined that every dish placed before -him tasted of strychnine. - -As this life of torture was intolerable, he determined to anticipate a -struggle which he felt must terminate in the death of either Clameran -or himself; and, if he were doomed to die, to be first revenged. If he -went down, Clameran should go too; better kill the devil than be -killed by him. - -In his days of poverty, Raoul had often risked his life to obtain a -few guineas, and would not have hesitated to make short work of a -person like Clameran. - -But with money prudence had come. He wished to enjoy his four hundred -thousand francs without being compromised by committing a murder which -might be discovered; he therefore began to devise some other means of -getting rid of his dreaded accomplice. Meanwhile, he devoted his -thoughts to some discreet way of thwarting Clameran's marriage with -Madeleine. He was sure that he would thus strike him to the heart, and -this was at least a satisfaction. - -Raoul was persuaded that, by openly siding with Madeleine and her -aims, he could save them from Clameran's clutches. Having fully -resolved upon this course, he wrote a note to Mme. Fauvel asking for -an interview. - -The poor woman hastened to Vesinet convinced that some new misfortune -was in store for her. - -Her alarm was groundless. She found Raoul more tender and affectionate -than he had ever been. He saw the necessity of reassuring her, and -winning his old place in her forgiving heart, before making his -disclosures. - -He succeeded. The poor lady had a smiling and happy air as she sat in -an arm-chair, with Raoul kneeling beside her. - -"I have distressed you too long, my dear mother," he said in his -softest tones, "but I repent sincerely: now listen to my--" - -He had not time to say more; the door was violently thrown open, and -Raoul, springing to his feet, was confronted by M. Fauvel. - -The banker had a revolver in his hand, and was deadly pale. - -It was evident that he was making superhuman efforts to remain calm, -like a judge whose duty it is to justly punish crime. - -"Ah," he said with a horrible laugh, "you look surprised. You did not -expect me? You thought that my imbecile credulity insured your -safety." - -Raoul had the courage to place himself before Mme. Fauvel, and to -stand prepared to receive the expected bullet. - -"I assure you, uncle," he began. - -"Enough!" interrupted the banker with an angry gesture, "let me hear -no more infamous falsehoods! End this acting, of which I am no longer -the dupe." - -"I swear to you--" - -"Spare yourself the trouble of denying anything. I know all. I know -who pawned my wife's diamonds. I know who committed the robbery for -which an innocent man was arrested and imprisoned." - -Mme. Fauvel, white with terror, fell upon her knees. - -At last it had come--the dreadful day had come. Vainly had she added -falsehood to falsehood; vainly had she sacrificed herself and others: -all was discovered. - -She saw that all was lost, and wringing her hands she tearfully -moaned: - -"Pardon, Andre! I beg you, forgive me!" - -At these heart-broken tones, the banker shook like a leaf. This voice -brought before him the twenty years of happiness which he had owed to -this woman, who had always been the mistress of his heart, whose -slightest wish had been his law, and who, by a smile or a frown, could -make him the happiest or the most miserable of men. Alas! those days -were over now. - -Could this wretched woman crouching at his feet be his beloved -Valentine, the pure, innocent girl whom he had found secluded in the -chateau of La Verberie, who had never loved any other than himself? -Could this be the cherished wife whom he had worshipped for so many -years? - -The memory of his lost happiness was too much for the stricken man. He -forgot the present in the past, and was almost melted to forgiveness. - -"Unhappy woman," he murmured, "unhappy woman! What have I done that -you should thus betray me? Ah, my only fault was loving you too -deeply, and letting you see it. One wearies of everything in this -world, even happiness. Did pure domestic joys pall upon you, and weary -you, driving you to seek the excitement of a sinful passion? Were you -so tired of the atmosphere of respect and affection which surrounded -you, that you must needs risk your honor and mine by braving public -opinion? Oh, into what an abyss you have fallen, Valentine! and, oh, -my God! if you were wearied by my constant devotion, had the thought -of your children no power to restrain your evil passions; could you -not remain untarnished for their sake?" - -M. Fauvel spoke slowly, with painful effort, as if each word choked -him. - -Raoul, who listened with attention, saw that if the banker knew some -things, he certainly did not know all. - -He saw that erroneous information had misled the unhappy man, and that -he was still a victim of false appearances. - -He determined to convince him of the mistake under which he was -laboring, and said: - -"Monsieur, I hope you will listen." - -But the sound of Raoul's voice was sufficient to break the charm. - -"Silence!" cried the banker with an angry oath, "silence!" - -For some moments nothing was heard but the sobs of Mme. Fauvel. - -"I came here," continued the banker, "with the intention of killing -you both. But I cannot kill a woman, and I will not kill an unarmed -man." - -Raoul once more tried to speak. - -"Let me finish!" interrupted M. Fauvel. "Your life is in my hands; the -law excuses the vengeance of an injured husband; but I refuse to take -advantage of it. I see on your mantel a revolver similar to mine; take -it, and defend yourself." - -"Never!" - -"Defend yourself!" cried the banker raising his arm, "if you do not--" - -Feeling the barrel of M. Fauvel's revolver touch his breast, Raoul in -self-defence seized his own pistol, and prepared to fire. - -"Stand in that corner of the room, and I will stand in this," -continued the banker; "and when the clock strikes, which will be in a -few seconds, we will both fire." - -They took the places designated, and stood perfectly still. - -But the horror of the scene was too much for Mme. Fauvel to witness -any longer without interposing. She understood but one thing: her son -and her husband were about to kill each other before her very eyes. -Fright and horror gave her strength to start up and rush between the -two men. - -"For God's sake, have mercy, Andre!" she cried, wringing her hands -with anguish, "let me tell you everything; don't kill--" - -This burst of maternal love, M. Fauvel thought the pleadings of a -criminal woman defending her lover. - -He roughly seized his wife by the arm, and thrust her aside, saying -with indignant scorn: - -"Get out of the way!" - -But she would not be repulsed; rushing up to Raoul, she threw her arms -around him, and said to her husband: - -"Kill me, and me alone; for I am the guilty one." - -At these words M. Fauvel glared at the guilty pair, and, deliberately -taking aim, fired. - -Neither Raoul nor Mme. Fauvel moved. The banker fired a second time; -then a third. - -He cocked the pistol for a fourth shot, when a man rushed into the -room, snatched the pistol from the banker's hand, and, throwing him on -the sofa, ran toward Mme. Fauvel. - -This man was M. Verduret, who had been warned by Cavaillon, but did -not know that Mme. Gypsy had extracted the balls from M. Fauvel's -revolver. - -"Thank Heaven!" he cried, "she is unhurt." - -"How dare you interfere?" cried the banker, who by this time had -joined the group. "I have the right to avenge my honor when it has -been degraded; the villain shall die!" - -M. Verduret seized the banker's wrists in a vice-like grasp, and -whispered in his ear: - -"Thank God you are saved from committing a terrible crime; the -anonymous letter deceived you." - -In violent situations like this, all the untoward, strange attending -circumstances appear perfectly natural to the participators, whose -passions have already carried them beyond the limits of social -propriety. - -Thus M. Fauvel never once thought of asking this stranger who he was -and where he came from. - -He heard and understood but one fact: the anonymous letter had lied. - -"But my wife confesses she is guilty," he stammered. - -"So she is," replied M. Verduret, "but not of the crime you imagine. -Do you know who that man is, that you attempted to kill?" - -"Her lover!" - -"No: her son!" - -The words of this stranger, showing his intimate knowledge of the -private affairs of all present, seemed to confound and frighten Raoul -more than M. Fauvel's threats had done. Yet he had sufficient presence -of mind to say: - -"It is the truth!" - -The banker looked wildly from Raoul to M. Verduret; then, fastening -his haggard eyes on his wife, exclaimed: - -"It is false! you are all conspiring to deceive me! Proofs!" - -"You shall have proofs," replied M. Verduret, "but first listen." - -And rapidly, with his wonderful talent for exposition, he related the -principal points of the plot he had discovered. - -The true state of the case was terribly distressing to M. Fauvel, but -nothing compared with what he had suspected. - -His throbbing, yearning heart told him that he still loved his wife. -Why should he punish a fault committed so many years ago, and atoned -for by twenty years of devotion and suffering? - -For some moments after M. Verduret had finished his explanation, M. -Fauvel remained silent. - -So many strange events had happened, rapidly following each other in -succession, and culminating in the shocking scene which had just taken -place, that M. Fauvel seemed to be too bewildered to think clearly. - -If his heart counselled pardon and forgetfulness, wounded pride and -self-respect demanded vengeance. - -If Raoul, the baleful witness, the living proof of a far-off sin, were -not in existence, M. Fauvel would not have hesitated. Gaston de -Clameran was dead; he would have held out his arms to his wife, and -said: - -"Come to my heart! your sacrifices for my honor shall be your -absolution; let the sad past be forgotten." - -But the sight of Raoul froze the words upon his lips. - -"So this is your son," he said to his wife--"this man, who has -plundered you and robbed me!" - -Mme. Fauvel was unable to utter a word in reply to these reproachful -words. - -"Oh!" said M. Verduret, "madame will tell you that this young man is -the son of Gaston de Clameran; she has never doubted it. But the truth -is--" - -"What!" - -"That, in order to swindle her, he has perpetrated a gross imposture." - -During the last few minutes Raoul had been quietly creeping toward the -door, hoping to escape while no one was thinking of him. - -But M. Verduret, who anticipated his intentions, was watching him out -of the corner of one eye, and stopped him just as he was about leaving -the room. - -"Not so fast, my pretty youth," he said, dragging him into the middle -of the room; "it is not polite to leave us so unceremoniously. Let us -have a little conversation before parting; a little explanation will -be edifying!" - -The jeering words and mocking manner of M. Verduret made Raoul turn -deadly pale, and start back as if confronted by a phantom. - -"The clown!" he gasped. - -"The same, friend," said the fat man. "Ah, now that you recognize me, -I confess that the clown and myself are one and the same. Yes, I am -the mountebank of the Jandidier ball; here is proof of it." - -And turning up his sleeve he showed a deep cut on his arm. - -"I think that this recent wound will convince you of my identity," he -continued. "I imagine you know the villain that gave me this little -decoration, that night I was walking along the Rue Bourdaloue. That -being the case, you know, I have a slight claim upon you, and shall -expect you to relate to us your little story." - -But Raoul was so terrified that he could not utter a word. - -"Your modesty keeps you silent," said M. Verduret. "Bravo! modesty -becomes talent, and for one of your age you certainly have displayed a -talent for knavery." - -M. Fauvel listened without understanding a word of what was said. - -"Into what dark depths of shame have we fallen!" he groaned. - -"Reassure yourself, monsieur," replied M. Verduret with great respect. -"After what I have been constrained to tell you, what remains to be -said is a mere trifle. I will finish the story. - -"On leaving Mihonne, who had given him a full account of the -misfortunes of Mlle. Valentine de la Verberie, Clameran hastened to -London. - -"He had no difficulty in finding the farmer's wife to whom the old -countess had intrusted Gaston's son. - -"But here an unexpected disappointment greeted him. - -"He learned that the child, whose name was registered on the parish -books as Raoul-Valentin Wilson, had died of the croup when eighteen -months old." - -"Did anyone state such a fact as that?" interrupted Raoul: "it is -false." - -"It was not only stated, but proved, my pretty youth," replied M. -Verduret. "You don't suppose I am a man to trust to verbal testimony; -do you?" - -He drew from his pocket several officially stamped documents, with red -seals attached, and laid them on the table. - -"These are declarations of the nurse, her husband, and four witnesses. -Here is an extract from the register of births; this is a certificate -of registry of his death; and all these are authenticated at the -French Embassy. Now are you satisfied, young man?" - -"What next?" inquired M. Fauvel. - -"The next step was this," replied M. Verduret. "Clameran, finding that -the child was dead, supposed that he could, in spite of this -disappointment, obtain money from Mme. Fauvel; he was mistaken. His -first attempt failed. Having an inventive turn of mind, he determined -that the child should come to life. Among his large circle of rascally -acquaintances, he selected a young fellow to impersonate Raoul- -Valentin Wilson; and the chosen one stands before you." - -Mme. Fauvel was in a pitiable state. And yet she began to feel a ray -of hope; her acute anxiety had so long tortured her, that the truth -was a relief; she would thank Heaven if this wicked man was proved to -be no son of hers. - -"Can this be possible?" she murmured, "can it be?" - -"Impossible!" cried the banker: "an infamous plot like this could not -be executed in our midst!" - -"All this is false!" said Raoul boldly. "It is a lie!" - -M. Verduret turned to Raoul, and, bowing with ironical respect, said: - -"Monsieur desires proofs, does he? Monsieur shall certainly have -convincing ones. I have just left a friend of mine, M. Palot, who -brought me valuable information from London. Now, my young gentleman, -I will tell you the little story he told me, and then you can give -your opinion of it. - -"In 1847 Lord Murray, a wealthy and generous nobleman, had a jockey -named Spencer, of whom he was very fond. At the Epsom races, this -jockey was thrown from his horse, and killed. Lord Murray grieved over -the loss of his favorite, and, having no children of his own, declared -his intention of adopting Spencer's son, who was then but four years -old. - -"Thus James Spencer was brought up in affluence, as heir to the -immense wealth of the noble lord. He was a handsome, intelligent boy, -and gave satisfaction to his protector until he was sixteen years of -age; when he became intimate with a worthless set of people, and -turned out badly. - -"Lord Murray, who was very indulgent, pardoned many grave faults; but -one fine morning he discovered that his adopted son had been imitating -his signature upon some checks. He indignantly dismissed him from the -house, and told him never to show his face again. - -"James Spencer had been living in London about four years, managing to -support himself by gambling and swindling, when he met Clameran, who -offered him twenty-five thousand francs to play a part in a little -comedy which he had arranged to suit the actors." - -"You are a detective!" interrupted Raoul. - -The fat man smiled grimly. - -"At present," he replied, "I am merely a friend of Prosper Bertomy. It -depends entirely upon your behavior which character I appear in while -settling up this little affair." - -"What do you expect me to do?" - -"Restore the three hundred and fifty thousand francs which you have -stolen." - -The young rascal hesitated a moment, and then said: - -"The money is in this room." - -"Very good. This frankness is creditable, and will benefit you. I know -that the money is in this room, and also exactly where it is to be -found. Be kind enough to look behind that cupboard, and you will find -the three hundred and fifty thousand francs." - -Raoul saw that his game was lost. He tremblingly went to the cupboard, -and pulled out several bundles of bank-notes, and an enormous package -of pawn-broker's tickets. - -"Very well done," said M. Verduret, as he carefully examined the money -and papers: "this is the most sensible step you ever took." - -Raoul relied on this moment, when everybody's attention would be -absorbed by the money, to make his escape. He slid toward the door, -gently opened it, slipped out, and locked it on the outside; the key -being still in the lock. - -"He has escaped!" cried M. Fauvel. - -"Naturally," replied M. Verduret, without even looking up: "I thought -he would have sense enough to do that." - -"But is he to go unpunished?" - -"My dear sir, would you have this affair become a public scandal? Do -you wish your wife's name to be brought into a case of this nature -before the police-court?" - -"Oh, monsieur!" - -"Then the best thing you can do, is to let the rascal go scot free. -Here are receipts for all the articles which he has pawned, so that we -should consider ourselves fortunate. He has kept fifty thousand -francs, but that is all the better for you. This sum will enable him -to leave France, and we shall never see him again." - -Like everyone else, M. Fauvel yielded to the ascendancy of M. -Verduret. - -Gradually he had awakened to the true state of affairs; prospective -happiness no longer seemed impossible, and he felt that he was -indebted to the man before him for more than life. But for M. -Verduret, where would have been his honor and domestic peace? - -With earnest gratitude he seized M. Verduret's hand as if to carry it -to his lips, and said, in broken tones: - -"Oh, monsieur! how can I ever find words to express how deeply I -appreciate your kindness? How can I ever repay the great service you -have rendered me?" - -M. Verduret reflected a moment, and then said: - -"If you feel under any significant obligations to me, monsieur, you -have it in your power to return them. I have a favor to ask of you." - -"A favor? you ask of me? Speak, monsieur, you have but to name it. My -fortune and life are at your disposal." - -"I will not hesitate, then, to explain myself. I am Prosper's friend, -and deeply interested in his future. You can exonerate him from this -infamous charge of robbery; you can restore him to his honorable -position. You can do more than this, monsieur. He loves Mlle. -Madeleine." - -"Madeleine shall be his wife, monsieur," interrupted the banker: "I -give you my word of honor. And I will so publicly exonerate him, that -not a shadow of suspicion will rest upon his name. I will place him in -a position which will prevent slander from reproaching him with the -painful remembrance of my fatal error." - -The fat man quietly took up his hat and cane, as if he had been paying -an ordinary morning call, and turned to leave the room, after saying, -"Good-morning." But, seeing the weeping woman raise her clasped hands -appealingly toward him, he said hesitatingly: - -"Monsieur, excuse my intruding any advice; but Mme. Fauvel--" - -"Andre!" murmured the wretched wife, "Andre!" - -The banker hesitated a moment; then, following the impulse of his -heart, ran to his wife, and, clasping her in his arms, said tenderly: - -"No, I will not be foolish enough to struggle against my deep-rooted -love. I do not pardon, Valentine: I forget; I forget all!" - -M. Verduret had nothing more to do at Vesinet. - -Without taking leave of the banker, he quietly left the room, and, -jumping into his cab, ordered the driver to return to Paris, and drive -to the Hotel du Louvre as rapidly as possible. - -His mind was filled with anxiety about Clameran. He knew that Raoul -would give him no more trouble; the young rogue was probably taking -his passage for some foreign land at that very moment. But Clameran -should not escape unpunished; and how this punishment could be brought -about without compromising Mme. Fauvel, was the problem to be solved. - -M. Verduret thought over the various cases similar to this, but not -one of his former expedients could be applied to the present -circumstances. He could not deliver the villain over to justice -without involving Mme. Fauvel. - -After long thought, he decided that an accusation of poisoning must -come from Oloron. He would go there and work upon "public opinion," so -that, to satisfy the townspeople, the authorities would order a post- -mortem examination of Gaston. But this mode of proceeding required -time; and Clameran would certainly escape before another day passed -over his head. He was too experienced a knave to remain on slippery -ground, now that his eyes were open to the danger which menaced him. -It was almost dark when the carriage stopped in front of the Hotel du -Louvre; M. Verduret noticed a crowd of people collected together in -groups, eagerly discussing some exciting event which seemed to have -just taken place. Although the policeman attempted to disperse the -crowd by authoritatively ordering them to "Move on! Move on!" they -would merely separate in one spot to join a more clamorous group a few -yards off. - -"What has happened?" demanded M. Verduret of a lounger near by. - -"The strangest thing you ever heard of," replied the man; "yes, I saw -him with my own eyes. He first appeared at that seventh-story window; -he was only half-dressed. Some men tried to seize him; but, bast! with -the agility of a squirrel, he jumped out upon the roof, shrieking, -'Murder! murder!' The recklessness of his conduct led me to suppose--" - -The gossip stopped short in his narrative, very much surprised and -vexed; his questioner had vanished. - -"If it should be Clameran!" thought M. Verduret; "if terror has -deranged that brain, so capable of working out great crimes! Fate must -have interposed----" - -While thus talking to himself, he elbowed his way through the crowded -court-yard of the hotel. - -At the foot of the staircase he found M. Fanferlot and three peculiar- -looking individuals standing together, as if waiting for someone. - -"Well," cried M. Verduret, "what is the matter?" - -With laudable emulation, the four men rushed forward to report to -their superior officer. - -"Patron," they all began at once. - -"Silence!" said the fat man with an oath; "one at a time. Quick! what -is the matter?" - -"The matter is this, patron," said Fanferlot dejectedly. "I am doomed -to ill luck. You see how it is; this is the only chance I ever had of -working out a beautiful case, and, paf! my criminal must go and -fizzle! A regular case of bankruptcy!" - -"Then it is Clameran who--" - -"Of course it is. When the rascal saw me this morning, he scampered -off like a hare. You should have seen him run; I thought he would -never stop this side of Ivry: but not at all. On reaching the -Boulevard des Ecoles, a sudden idea seemed to strike him, and he made -a bee-line for his hotel; I suppose, to get his pile of money. -Directly he gets here, what does he see? these three friends of mine. -The sight of these gentlemen had the effect of a sunstroke upon him; -he went raving mad on the spot. The idea of serving me such a low -trick at the very moment I was sure of success!" - -"Where is he now?" - -"At the prefecture, I suppose. Some policemen handcuffed him, and -drove off with him in a cab." - -"Come with me." - -M. Verduret and Fanferlot found Clameran in one of the private cells -reserved for dangerous prisoners. - -He had on a strait-jacket, and was struggling violently against three -men, who were striving to hold him, while a physician tried to force -him to swallow a potion. - -"Help!" he shrieked; "help, for God's sake! Do you not see my brother -coming after me? Look! he wants to poison me!" - -M. Verduret took the physician aside, and questioned him about the -maniac. - -"The wretched man is in a hopeless state," replied the doctor; "this -species of insanity is incurable. He thinks someone is trying to -poison him, and nothing will persuade him to eat or drink anything; -and, as it is impossible to force anything down his throat, he will -die of starvation, after having suffered all the tortures of poison." - -M. Verduret, with a shudder, turned to leave the prefecture, saying to -Fanferlot: - -"Mme. Fauvel is saved, and by the interposition of God, who has -himself punished Clameran!" - -"That don't help me in the least," grumbled Fanferlot. "The idea of -all my trouble and labor ending in this flat, quiet way! I seem to be -born for ill-luck!" - -"Don't take your blighted hopes of glory so much to heart," replied M. -Verduret. "It is a melancholy fact for you that /File No. 113/ will -never leave the record-office; but you must bear your disappointment -gracefully and heroically. I will console you by sending you as bearer -of despatches to a friend of mine, and what you have lost in fame will -be gained in gold." - - - -XXV - -Four days had passed since the events just narrated, when one morning -M. Lecoq--the official Lecoq, who resembled the dignified head of a -bureau--was walking up and down his private office, at each turn -nervously looking at the clock, which slowly ticked on the mantel, as -if it had no intention of striking any sooner than usual, to gratify -the man so anxiously watching its placid face. - -At last, however, the clock did strike; and just then the faithful -Janouille opened the door, and ushered in Mme. Nina and Prosper -Bertomy. - -"Ah," said M. Lecoq, "you are punctual; lovers are generally so." - -"We are not lovers, monsieur," replied Mme. Gypsy. "M. Verduret gave -us express orders to meet here in your office this morning, and we -have obeyed." - -"Very good," said the celebrated detective: "then be kind enough to -wait a few minutes; I will tell him you are here." - -During the quarter of an hour that Nina and Prosper remained alone -together, they did not exchange a word. Finally a door opened, and M. -Verduret appeared. - -Nina and Prosper eagerly started toward him; but he checked them by -one of those peculiar looks which no one ever dared resist. - -"You have come," he said severely, "to hear the secret of my conduct. -I have promised, and will keep my word, however painful it may be to -my feelings. Listen, then. My best friend is a loyal, honest man, -named Caldas. Eighteen months ago this friend was the happiest of men. -Infatuated by a woman, he lived for her alone, and, fool that he was, -imagined that she felt the same love for him." - -"She did!" cried Gypsy, "yes, she always loved him." - -"She showed her love in a peculiar way. She loved him so much, that -one fine day she left him, and ran off with another man. In his first -moments of despair, Caldas wished to kill himself. Then he reflected -that it would be wiser to live, and avenge himself." - -"And then," faltered Prosper. - -"Then Caldas avenged himself in his own way. He made the woman who -deserted him recognize his immense superiority over his rival. Weak, -timid, and helpless, the rival was disgraced, and falling over the -verge of a precipice, when the powerful hand of Caldas reached forth -and saved him. You understand all now, do you not? The woman is Nina; -the rival is yourself; and Caldas is--" - -With a quick, dexterous movement, he threw off his wig and whiskers, -and stood before them the real, intelligent, proud Lecoq. - -"Caldas!" cried Nina. - -"No, not Caldas, not Verduret any longer: but Lecoq, the detective!" - -M. Lecoq broke the stupefied silence of his listeners by saying to -Prosper: - -"It is not to me alone that you owe your salvation. A noble girl -confided to me the difficult task of clearing your reputation. I -promised her that M. Fauvel should never know the shameful secrets -concerning his domestic happiness. Your letter thwarted all my plans, -and made it impossible for me to keep my promise. I have nothing more -to say." - -He turned to leave the room, but Nina barred his exit. - -"Caldas," she murmured, "I implore you to have pity on me! I am /so/ -miserable! Ah, if you only knew! Be forgiving to one who has always -loved you, Caldas! Listen." - -Prosper departed from M. Lecoq's office alone. - -On the 15th of last month, was celebrated, at the church of Notre Dame -de Lorette, the marriage of M. Prosper Bertomy and Mlle. Madeleine -Fauvel. - -The banking-house is still on the Rue de Provence; but as M. Fauvel -has decided to retire from business, and live in the country, the name -of the firm has been changed, and is now-- - -"Prosper Bertomy & Co." - - - - -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of File No. 113, by Emile Gaboriau - |