THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S 
 MONEY
 
 " We must hear what these two men are saying, and will play 
 a game of piquet for a subterfuge." Page 393.
 
 OTHER 
 
 PEOPLE'S 
 
 MONEY 
 
 Translated from the French of 
 
 EMILE GABORIAU 
 
 Illustrated by 
 VICTOR PERARD 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 New York .... 1906
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1874, BY 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SOUS
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " We must hear what these two men are saying, and will 
 play a game of piquet for a subterfuge." . . Frontispiece 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 But already had the young man and his elderly friend 
 seated themselves and so arranged their chairs that 
 Mile. Gilberte could not miss a word of what they 
 were about to say 84 
 
 Pulei never tired of singing his praises and with such 
 pomp of expression and so curious an exuberance of 
 gesticulation 168 
 
 And in fact he did take from the side pocket of the villain 
 a letter which he unfolded and commenced reading 
 aloud 480
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 PART I. 
 I. 
 
 THERE is not, perhaps, in all Paris, a quieter street 
 than the Rue St. Gilles in the Marais, within a step of the 
 Place Royale. No carriages there; never a crowd. 
 Hardly is the silence broken by the regulation drums of 
 the Minims Barracks near by, by the chimes of the 
 Church of St. Louis, or by the joyous clamors of the 
 pupils of the Massin School during the hours of recrea- 
 tion. 
 
 At night, long before ten o'clock, and when the Boule- 
 vard Beaumarchais is still full of life, activity, and noise, 
 every thing begins to close. One by one the lights go 
 out, and the great windows with diminutive panes be- 
 come dark. And if, after midnight, some belated citizen 
 passes on his way home, he quickens his step, feeling 
 lonely and uneasy, and apprehensive of the reproaches 
 of his concierge, who is likely to ask him whence he may 
 be coming at so late an hour. 
 
 In such a street, every one knows each other : houses 
 have no mystery ; families, no secrets, a small town, 
 where idle curiosity has always a corner of the veil slyly
 
 2 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 raised, where gossip flourishes as rankly as the grass on 
 the street. 
 
 Thus on the afternoon of the 2?th of April, 1872 (a 
 Saturday), a fact which anywhere else might have 
 passed unnoticed was attracting particular attention. 
 
 A man some thirty years of age, wearing the working 
 livery of servants of the upper class, the long striped 
 waistcoat with sleeves, and the white linen apron, was 
 going from door to door. 
 
 " Who can the man be looking for ? " wondered the 
 idle neighbors, closely watching his evolutions. 
 
 He was not looking for any one. To such as he spoke 
 to, he stated that he had been sent by a cousin of his, an 
 excellent cook, who, before taking a place in the neigh- 
 borhood, was anxious to have all possible informa- 
 tion on the subject of her prospective masters. And 
 then, " Do you know M. Vincent Favoral ?" he would 
 ask. 
 
 Concierges and shop-keepers knew no one better ; for 
 it was more than a quarter of a century before, that M. 
 Vincent Favoral, the day after his wedding, had come 
 to settle in the Rue St. Gilles ; and there his two children 
 were born, his son M. Maxence, his daughter Mile. 
 Gilberte. 
 
 He occupied the second story of the house No. 38, 
 one of those old-fashioned dwellings, such as they build 
 no more, since ground is sold at twelve hundred francs 
 the square metre ; in which there is no stinting of space. 
 The stairs, with wrought iron balusters, are wide and 
 easy, and the ceilings twelve feet high. 
 
 " Of course, we know M. Favoral," answered every 
 one to the servant's questions ; " and, if there ever was 
 an honest man, why, he is certainly the one. There is a 
 man whom you could trust with your funds, if you had
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 3 
 
 any, without fear of his ever running off to Belgium 
 with them." And it was further explained, that M. 
 Favoral was chief cashier, and probably, also, one of the 
 principal stockholders, of the Mutual Credit Society, one 
 of those admirable financial institutions which have 
 sprung up with the second empire, and which had won 
 at the Bourse the first installment of their capital, the 
 very day that the game of the Coup d' Etat was being 
 played in the street. 
 
 " I know well enough the gentleman's business," re- 
 marked the servant ; " but what sort of a man is he ? 
 That's what my cousin would like to know." 
 
 The wine-man at No. 43, the oldest shop-keeper in the 
 street, could best answer. A couple of petits-verres 
 politely offered soon started his tongue ; and, whilst sip- 
 ping his Cognac : 
 
 " M. Vincent Favoral," he began, " is a man some 
 fifty-two or three years old, but who looks younger, not 
 having yet a single gray hair. He is tall and thin, with 
 neatly-trimmed whiskers, thin lips, and small yellow 
 eyes ; not talkative. It takes more ceremony to get a 
 word from his throat than a dollar from his pocket. 
 ' Yes,' ' no/ ' good-morning,' ' good-evening ; ' that's 
 about the extent of his conversation. Summer and win- 
 ter, he wears gray pantaloons, a long frock-coat, laced 
 shoes, and lisle-thread gloves. Ton my word, I should 
 say that he is still wearing the very same clothes I saw 
 upon his back for the first time in 1845, did I not know 
 that he has two full suits made every year by the con- 
 cierge at No. 29, who is also a tailor." 
 
 " Why, he must be an old miser," muttered the ser- 
 vant. 
 
 " He is above all peculiar," continued the shop-keeper, 
 " like most men of figures, it seems. His own life 5
 
 4 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ruled and regulated like the pages of his ledger. In the 
 neighborhood they call him Old Punctuality ; and, when 
 he passes through the Rue Turenne, the merchants set 
 their watches by him. Rain or shine, every morning of 
 the year, on the stroke of nine, he appears at the door on 
 the way to his office. When he returns, you may be 
 sure it is between twenty and twenty-five minutes past 
 five. At six he dines ; at seven he goes to play a game 
 of dominoes at the Cafe Turc; at ten he comes home 
 and goes to bed ; and, at the first stroke of eleven at the 
 Church of St. Louis, out goes his candle." 
 
 " Hem ! " grumbled the servant with a look of con- 
 tempt, " the question is, Will my cousin be willing to 
 live with a man who is a sort of walking clock ? " 
 
 " It isn't always pleasant," remarked the wine-man ; 
 " and the best evidence is, that the son, M. Maxence, got 
 tired of it." 
 
 " He does not live with his parents any more ? " 
 " He dines with them ; but he has his own lodgings 
 on the Boulevard du Temple. The falling-out made talk 
 enough at the time; and some people do say that M. 
 Maxence is a worthless scamp, who leads a very dis- 
 sipated life ; but I say that his father kept him too close. 
 The boy is twenty-five, quite good looking, and has a 
 very stylish mistress: I have seen her. ... I would 
 have done just as he did." 
 
 "And what about the daughter, Mile. Gilberte? " 
 " She is not married yet, although she is past twenty, 
 and pretty as a rosebud. After the war, her father tried 
 to make her marry a stock-broker, a stylish man who 
 always came in a two-horse carriage; but she refused 
 him outright. I should not be a bit surprised to hear 
 that she has some love-affair of her own. I have noticed 
 lately a young gentleman about here who looks up quite
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 5 
 
 suspiciously when he goes by No. 38." The servant did 
 not seem to find these particulars very interesting. 
 
 " It's the lady," he said, " that my cousin would like 
 to know most about." 
 
 " Naturally. Well, you can safely tell her that she 
 never will have had a better mistress. Poor Madame 
 Favoral ! She must have had a sweet time of it with her 
 maniac of a husband ! But she is not young any more ; 
 and people get accustomed to every thing, you know. 
 The days when the weather is fine, I see her going by 
 with her daughter to the Place Royale for a walk. 
 That's about their only amusement." 
 
 " The mischief ! " said the servant, laughing. " If 
 that is all, she won't ruin her husband, will she ? " 
 
 " That is all," continued the shop-keeper, " or rather, 
 excuse me, no : every Saturday, for many years, M. and 
 Mme. Favoral receive a few of their friends: M. and 
 Mme. Desclavettes, retired dealers in bronzes, Rue Tu- 
 renne; M. Chapelain, the old lawyer from the Rue St. 
 Antoine, whose daughter is Mile. Gilberte's particular 
 friend; M. Desormeaux, head clerk in the Department 
 of Justice; and three or four others; and as this just 
 happens to be Saturday " 
 
 But here he stopped short, and pointing towards the 
 street, 
 
 " Quick," said he, " look ! Speaking of the you 
 know It is twenty minutes past five, there is M. 
 Favoral coming home." 
 
 It was, in fact, the cashier of the Mutual Credit So- 
 ciety, looking very much indeed as the shop-keeper had 
 described him. Walking with his head down, he seemed 
 to be seeking upon the pavement the very spot upon 
 which he had set his foot in the morning, that he might 
 set it back again there in the evening.
 
 6 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 With the same methodical step, he reached his house, 
 walked up the two pairs of stairs, and, taking out his 
 pass-key, opened the door of his apartment. 
 
 The dwelling was fit for the man ; and every thing 
 from the very hall, betrayed his peculiarities. There, 
 evidently, every piece of furniture must have its invaria- 
 ble place, every object its irrevocable shelf or hook. All 
 around were evidences, if not exactly of poverty, at least 
 of small means, and of the artifices of a respectable econ- 
 omy. Cleanliness was carried to its utmost limits : every 
 thing shone. Not a detail but betrayed the industrioui 
 hand of the housekeeper, struggling to defend her furni- 
 ture against the ravages of time. The velvet on the 
 chairs was darned at the angles as with the needle of a 
 fairy. Stitches of new worsted showed through the 
 faded designs on the hearth-rugs. The curtains had 
 been turned so as to display their least worn side. 
 
 All the guests enumerated by the shop-keeper, and a 
 few others besides, were in the parlor when M. Favoral 
 came in. 
 
 But, instead of returning their greeting, 
 
 " Where is Maxence ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I am expecting him, my dear," said Mme. Favoral 
 gently. 
 
 " Always behind time," he scolded. " It is too tri- 
 fling." 
 
 His daughter, Mile. Gilberte, interrupted him, 
 
 " Where is my bouquet, father ? " she asked. 
 
 M. Favoral stopped short, struck his forehead, and 
 with the accent of a man who reveals something incredi- 
 ble, prodigious, unheard of, 
 
 " Forgotten," he answered, scanning the syllables : " I 
 have for-got-ten it." 
 
 It was a fact. Every Saturday, on his way home, he
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 7 
 
 was in the habit of stopping at the old woman's shop in 
 front of the Church of St. Louis, and buying a bouquet 
 for Mile. Gilberte. And to-day 
 
 " Ah ! I catch you this time, father ! '' exclaimed the 
 girl. 
 
 Meantime, Mme. Favoral, whispering to Mme. Des- 
 clavettes, 
 
 "Positively," she said in a troubled voice, "something 
 serious must have happened to my husband. He to 
 forget ! He to fail in one of his habits ! It is the first 
 time in twenty-six years." % 
 
 The appearance of Maxence at this moment prevented 
 her from going on. M. Favoral was about to administer 
 a sound reprimand to his son, when dinner was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 " Come," exclaimed M. Chapelain, the old lawyer, the 
 conciliating man par excellence, " come, let us to the 
 table." 
 
 They sat down. But Mme. Favoral had scarcely 
 helped the soup, when the bell rang violently. Almost at 
 the same moment the servant appeared, and announced, 
 
 "The Baron de Thaller!" 
 
 More pale than his napkin, the cashier stood up. 
 " The manager," he stammered, " the director of the 
 Mutual Credit Society." 
 
 II. 
 
 CLOSE upon the heels of the servant M. de Thaller 
 came. 
 
 Tall, thin, stiff, he had a very small head, a flat face, 
 pointed hose, and long reddish whiskers, slightly shaded
 
 8 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 with silvery threads, falling half-way down his chest. 
 Dressed in the latest style, he wore a loose overcoat of 
 rough material, pantaloons that spread nearly to the tip 
 of his boots, a wide shirt-collar turned over a light 
 cravat, on the bow of which shone a large diamond, and 
 a tall hat with rolled brims. 
 
 With a blinking glance, he made a rapid estimate of 
 the dining-room, the shabby furniture, and the guests 
 seated around the table. Then, without even conde- 
 scending to touch his hat, with his large hand tightly 
 fitted into a lavender glove, in a brief and imperious tone, 
 and with a slight accent which he affirmed was the Al- 
 satian accent, 
 
 " I must speak with you, Vincent," said he to his 
 cashier, " alone and at once." 
 
 M. Favoral made visible efforts to conceal his anxiety. 
 
 " You see," he commenced, " we are dining with a few 
 friends, and " 
 
 " Do you wish me to speak in presence of every- 
 body? " interrupted harshly the manager of the Mutual 
 Credit. 
 
 The cashier hesitated no longer. Taking up a candle 
 from the table, he opened the door leading to the parlor, 
 and, standing respectfully to one side, 
 
 " Be kind enough to pass on, sir," said he : "I follow 
 you." 
 
 And, at the moment of disappearing himself, 
 
 " Continue to dine without me," said he to his guests, 
 with a last effort at self-control. " I shall soon catch 
 up with you. This will take but a moment. Do not be 
 uneasy in the least." 
 
 They were not uneasy, but surprised, and, above all; 
 shocked at the manners of M. de Thaller. 
 
 " What a brute ! " muttered Mme. Desclavettes.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 9 
 
 M. Desormeaux, the head clerk at the Department of 
 Justice, was an old legitimist, much imbued with re-ac- 
 tionary ideas. 
 
 " Such are our masters," said he with a sneer, " the 
 high barons of financial feudality. Ah! you are in- 
 dignant at the arrogance of the old aristocracy; well, 
 on your knees, by Jupiter ! on your face, rather, before 
 the golden crown on field of gules." 
 
 No one replied: every one was trying his best to 
 hear. 
 
 In the parlor, between M. Favoral and M. de Thaller, 
 a discussion of the utmost violence was evidently going 
 on. To seize the meaning of it was not possible; and 
 yet through the door, the upper panels of which were of 
 glass, fragments could be heard ; and from time to time 
 such words distinctly reached the ear as dividend, stock- 
 holders, deficit, millions, etc. 
 
 " What can it all mean ? great heaven ! " moaned 
 Mme. Favoral. 
 
 Doubtless the two interlocutors, the director and the 
 cashier, had drawn nearer to the door of communication ; 
 for their voices, which rose more and more, had now be- 
 come quite distinct. 
 
 " It is an infamous trap ! " M. Favoral was saying. 
 " I should have been notified " 
 
 " Come, come," interrupted the other. " Were you 
 not fully warned? did I ever conceal any thing from 
 jrou?" 
 
 Fear, a fear vague still, and unexplained, was slowly 
 taking possession of the guests ; and they remained mo- 
 tionless, their forks in suspense, holding their breath. 
 
 " Never," M. Favoral was repeating, stamping his 
 foot so violently that the partition shook, " never, 
 never ! "
 
 io OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And yet it must be," declared M. de Thaller. " It 
 is the only, the last resource " 
 
 " And suppose I will not ! " 
 
 " Your will has nothing to do with it now. It is 
 twenty years ago that you might have willed, or not 
 willed. But listen to me, and let us reason a little." 
 
 Here M. de Thaller dropped his voice ; and for some 
 minutes nothing was heard in the dining-room, except 
 confused words, and incomprehensible exclamations, un- 
 til suddenly, 
 
 " That is ruin," he resumed in a furious tone : " it is 
 bankruptcy on the last of the month." 
 
 " Sir," the cashier was replying, " sir ! " 
 
 " You are a forger, M. Vincent Favoral ; you are a 
 thief!" 
 
 Maxence leaped from his seat. 
 
 " I shall not permit my father to be thus insulted in 
 his own house," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Maxence," begged Mme. Favoral, " my son ! " 
 
 The old lawyer, M. Chapelain, held him by the arm ; 
 but he struggled hard, and was about to burst into the 
 parlor, when the door opened, and the director of the 
 Mutual Credit stepped out. 
 
 With a coolness quite remarkable after such a scene, 
 he advanced towards Mile. Gilberte, and, in a tone of 
 offensive protection, 
 
 " Your father is a wretch, mademoiselle," he said ; 
 " and my duty should be to surrender him at once into 
 the hands of justice. On account of your worthy 
 mother, however, of your father himself, above all, on 
 your own account, mademoiselle, I shall forbear doing 
 so. But let him fly, let him disappear, and never more 
 be heard from."
 
 II 
 
 He drew from his pocket a roll of bank-notes, and, 
 *hrowing them upon the table, 
 
 " Hand him this," he added. " Let him leave this 
 very night. The police may have been notified. There 
 is a train for Brussels at five minutes past eleven." 
 
 And, having bowed, he withdrew, no one addressing 
 him a single word, so great was the astonishment of all 
 the guests of this house, heretofore so peaceful. 
 
 Overcome with stupor, Maxence had dropped upon 
 his chair. Mile. Gilberte alone retained some pres- 
 ence of mind. 
 
 " It is a shame," she exclaimed, " for us to give up 
 thus ! That man is an impostor, a wretch ; he lies ! 
 Father, father ! " 
 
 M. Favoral had not waited to be called, and was 
 standing up against the parlrr-door, pale as death, and 
 yet calm. 
 
 " Why attempt any explanations ? " he said. " The 
 money is gone ; and appearances are against me." 
 
 His wife had drawn near to him, and taken his hand. 
 
 " The misfortune is immense," she said, " but not ir- 
 reparable. We will sell everything we have/' 
 
 "Have you not friends? Are we not here," insisted 
 the others, M. Desclavettes, M. Desormeaux, and M. 
 Chapelain. 
 
 Gently he pushed his wife aside, and coldly. 
 
 " All we had," he said, " would be as a grain of sand 
 in an ocean. But we have no longer anything ; we are 
 ruined." 
 
 " Ruined ! " exclaimed M. Desormeaux, " ruined ! 
 And where are the forty-five thousand francs I placed 
 into your hands ? " 
 
 He made no reply.
 
 12 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And our hundred and twenty thousand francs ? " 
 groaned M. and Mme. Desclavettes. 
 
 "And my sixty thousand francs?" shouted M. 
 Chapelain, with a blasphemous oath. 
 
 The cashier shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Lost," he said, " irrevocably lost ! " 
 
 Then their rage exceeded all bounds. Then they for- 
 got that this unfortunate man had been their friend for 
 twenty years, that they were his guests ; and they com- 
 menced heaping upon him threats and insults without 
 name. 
 
 He did not even deign to defend himself. 
 
 " Go on," he uttered, " go on. When a poor dog, 
 carried away by the current, is drowning, men of heart 
 cast stones at him from the bank. Go on ! " 
 
 " You should have told us that you speculated," 
 screamed M. Desclavettes. 
 
 On hearing these words, he straightened himself up, 
 and with a gesture so terrible that the others stepped 
 back frightened. 
 
 " What ! "said he, in a tone of crushing irony, " it is 
 this evening only, that you discover that 1 speculated? 
 Kind friends ! Where, then, and in whose pockets, did 
 you suppose I was getting the enormous interests I 
 have been paying you for years ? Where have you ever 
 seen honest money, the money of labor, yield twelve or 
 fourteen per cent? The money that yields thus is the 
 money of the gaming table, the money of the bourse. 
 Why did you bring me your funds ? Because you were 
 fully satisfied that I knew how to handle the cards. Ah ! 
 If I was to tell you that I had doubled your capital, you 
 would not ask how I did it, nor whether I had stocked 
 the cards. You would virtuously pocket the money. But 
 I have lost : I am a thief. Well, so be it. But, then, you
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 13 
 
 are all my accomplices. It is the avidity of the dupes 
 which induces the trickery of the sharpers." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the servant coming in. 
 " Sir," she exclaimed excitedly, " O sir ! the courtyard 
 is full of police agents. They are speaking to the con- 
 cierge. They are coming up stairs : I hear them ! " 
 
 III. 
 
 ACCORDING to the time and place where they are ut- 
 tered, there are words which acquire a terrible signifi- 
 cance. In this disordered room, in the midst of these ex- 
 cited people, that word, the " police,'' sounded like a 
 thunderclap. 
 
 " Do not open," Maxence ordered ; " do not open, 
 however they may ring or knock. Let them burst the 
 door first." 
 
 The very excess of her fright restored to Mme. Fa- 
 voral a portion of her energy. Throwing herself before 
 her husband as if to protect him, as if to defend him, 
 
 <k They are coming to arrest you, Vincent," she ex- 
 claimed. " They are coming ; don't you hear them ? " 
 
 He remained motionless, his feet seemingly riveted to 
 the floor. 
 
 " That is as I expected," he said. 
 
 And with the accent of the wretch who sees all hope 
 vanish, and who utterly gives up all struggle, 
 
 " Be it so," he said. " Let them arrest me, and let all 
 be over at once. I have had enough anxiety, enough un- 
 bearable alternatives. I am tired always to feign, to de- 
 ceive, and to lie. Let them arrest me ! Any misfortune 
 will be smaller in reality than the horrors of uncertainty.
 
 14 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 I have nothing more to fear now. For the first time in 
 many years I shall sleep to-night." 
 
 He did not notice the sinister expression of his guests. 
 
 " You think I am a thief," he added : " well, be satis- 
 fied, justice shall be done." 
 
 But he attributed to them sentiments which were no 
 longer theirs. They had forgotten their anger, and their 
 bitter resentment for their lost money. 
 
 The imminence of the peril awoke suddenly in their 
 souls the memories of the past, and that strong affection 
 which comes from long habit, and a constant exchange 
 of services rendered. Whatever M. Favoral might have 
 done, they only saw in him now the friend, the host 
 whose bread they had broken together more than a hun- 
 dred times, the man whose probity, up to this fatal night, 
 had remained far above suspicion. 
 
 Pale, excited, they crowded around him. 
 
 " Have you lost your mind ? " spoke M. Desormeaux. 
 " Are you going to wait to be arrested, thrown into 
 prison, dragged into a criminal court ? " 
 
 He shook his head, and in a tone of idiotic obsti- 
 nacy, 
 
 " Have I not told you," he repeated, " that every thing 
 is against me ? Let them come ; let them do what they 
 please with me." 
 
 " And your wife," insisted M. Chapelain, the old law- 
 yer, " and your children ! " 
 
 " Will they be any the less dishonored if I am con- 
 demned by default?'* 
 
 Wild with grief, Mme. Favoral was wringing her 
 hands. 
 
 " Vincent," she murmured, " in the name of Heaven, 
 spare us the harrowing agony to have you in prison." 
 
 Obstinately he remained silent. His daughter, Mile.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 15 
 
 Gilberte, dropped upon her knees before him, and, join- 
 ing her hands, 
 
 " I beseech you, father," she begged. 
 
 He shuddered all over. An unspeakable expression of 
 suffering and anguish contracted his features; and, 
 speaking in a scarcely intelligible voice, 
 
 " Ah ! you are cruelly protracting my agony," he 
 stammered. " What do you ask of me ?" 
 
 " You must fly," declared M. Desclavettes. 
 
 " Which way ? How ? Do you not think that every 
 precaution has been taken, that every issue is closely 
 watched ? " 
 
 Maxence interrupted him with a gesture, 
 
 " The windows in sister's room, father," said he, 
 " open upon the courtyard of the adjoining house." 
 
 " Yes ; but here we are up two pairs of stairs." 
 
 " No matter : I have a way." 
 
 And turning towards his sister, 
 
 " Come, Gilberte," went on the young man, " give 
 me a light, and let me have some sheets." 
 
 They went out hurriedly. Mme. Favoral felt a gleam 
 of hope. 
 
 " We are saved ! " she said. 
 
 " Saved ! " repeated the cashier mechanically. 
 
 " Yes ; for I guess Maxence's idea. But we must have 
 an understanding. Where will you take refuge ? " 
 
 "How can I tell?" 
 
 " There is a train at five minutes past eleven," re- 
 marked M. Desormeaux. " Don't let us forget that." 
 
 " But money will be required to leave by that train," 
 interrupted the old lawyer. " Fortunately, I have some." 
 
 And, forgetting his hundred and sixty thousand 
 francs lost, he took out his pocket-book. Mme. Favoral 
 stopped him. " We have more than we need," said she.
 
 16 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 She took from the table, and held out to her husband, 
 the roll of bank-notes which the director of the Mutual 
 Credit Society had thrown down before going. 
 
 He refused them with a gesture of rage. 
 
 " Rather starve to death ! " he exclaimed. " Tis he, 
 'tis that wretch " 
 
 But he interrupted himself, and more gently, 
 
 " Put away those bank-bills," said he to his wife, " and 
 let Maxence take them back to M. de Thaller to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 The bell rang violently. 
 
 " The police ! " groaned Mme. Desclavettes, who 
 seemed on the point of fainting away. 
 
 " I am going to negotiate," said M. Desormeaux. 
 " Fly, Vincent : do not lose a minute." 
 
 And he ran to the front-door, whilst Mme. Favoral 
 was hurrying her husband towards Mile. Gilberte's 
 room. 
 
 Rapidly and stoutly Maxence had fastened four 
 sheets together by the ends, which gave a more than suf- 
 ficient length. Then, opening the window, he examined 
 carefully the courtyard of the adjoining house. 
 
 " No one," said he : " everybody is at dinner. We'll 
 succeed." 
 
 M. Favoral was tottering like a drunken man. A ter- 
 rible emotion convulsed his features. Casting a long 
 look upon his wife and children, 
 
 " O Lord ! " he murmured, " what will become of 
 you?" 
 
 " Fear nothing, father," uttered Maxence. " I am 
 here. Neither my mother nor my sister will want for 
 any thing." 
 
 " My son ! " resumed the cashier, " my children ! " 
 
 Then, with a choking voice,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 17 
 
 " I am worthy neither of your love nor your devotion, 
 wretch that I am ! I made you lead a miserable existence, 
 spend a joyless youth. I imposed upon you every trial 
 of poverty, whilst I And now I leave you nothing but 
 ruin and a dishonored name." 
 
 " Make haste, father," interrupted Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 It seemed as if he could not make up his mind. 
 
 " It is horrible to abandon you thus. What a parting ! 
 Ah ! death would indeed be far preferable : What will 
 you think of me ? I am very guilty, certainly, but not as 
 you think. I have been betrayed, and I must suffer for 
 all. If at least you knew the whole truth. But will you 
 ever know it ? We will never see each other again." 
 
 Desperately his wife clung to him. 
 
 " Do not speak thus," she said. " Wherever you may 
 find an asylum, I will join you. Death alone can sepa- 
 rate us. What do I care what you may have done, or 
 what the world will say? I am your wife. Our chil- 
 dren will come with me. If necessary, we will emi- 
 grate to America; we'll change our name; we will 
 work." 
 
 The knocks on the outer door were becoming louder 
 and louder ; and M. Desormeaux's voice could be heard, 
 endeavoring to gain a few moments more. 
 
 " Come," said Maxence, " you cannot hesitate any 
 longer." 
 
 And, overcoming his father's reluctance, he fastened 
 one end of the sheets around his waist. 
 
 " I am going to let you down, father," said he ; " and, 
 as soon as you touch the ground, you must undo the 
 knot. Take care of the first-story windows ; beware of 
 the concierge; and, once in the street, don't walk too 
 fast. Make for the Boulevard, where you will be sooner 
 lost in the crowd."
 
 18 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 The knocks had now become violent blows; and it 
 was evident that the door would soon be broken in, 
 if M. Desormeaux did not make up his mind to open 
 it. 
 
 The light was put out. With the assistance of his 
 daughter, M. Favoral lifted himself upon the window- 
 sill, whilst Maxence held the sheets with both hands. 
 
 " I beseech you, Vincent," repeated Mme. Favoral, 
 " write to us. We shall be in mortal anxiety until we 
 hear of your safety." 
 
 Maxence let the sheets slip slowly : in two seconds M. 
 Favoral stood on the pavement below. 
 
 " All right," he said. 
 
 The young man drew the sheets back rapidly, and 
 threw them under the bed. But Mile. Gilberte remained 
 long enough at the window to recognize her father's 
 voice asking the concierge to open the door, and to hear 
 the heavy gate of the adjoining house closing behind 
 him. 
 
 "Saved! "she said. 
 
 It was none too soon. M. Desormeaux had just been 
 compelled to yield; and the commissary of police was 
 walking in. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE commissaries of police of Paris, as a general 
 thing, are no simpletons ; and, if they are ever taken in. 
 it is because it has suited them to be taken in. 
 
 Their modest title covers the most important, perhaps, 
 of magistracies, almost the only one known to the lower 
 classes; an enormous power, and an influence so de- 
 cisive, that the most sensible statesman of the reign of
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 19 
 
 Louis Philippe ventured once to say, " Give me twenty 
 good commissaries of police in Paris, and I'll undertake 
 to suppress any government : net profit, one hundred mil- 
 lions." 
 
 Parisian above all, the commissary has had ample 
 time to study his ground when he was yet only a peace- 
 officer. The dark side of the most brilliant lives has no 
 mysteries for him. He has received the strangest con- 
 fidences : he has listened to the most astounding confes- 
 sions. He knows how low humanity can stoop, and what 
 aberrations there are in brains apparently the soundest. 
 The workwoman whom her husband beats, and the great 
 lady whom her husband cheats, have both come to him. 
 He has been sent for by the shop-keeper whom his wife 
 deceives, and by the millionaire who has been black- 
 mailed. To his office, as to a lay confessional, all pas- 
 sions fatally lead. In his presence the dirty linen of two 
 millions of people is washed en famille. 
 
 A Paris commissary of police, who after ten years' 
 practice, could retain an illusion, believe in something, 
 or be astonished at any thing in the world, would be but 
 a fool. If he is still capable of some emotion, he is a 
 good man. 
 
 The one who had just walked into M. Favoral's apart- 
 ment was already past middle age, colder than ice, and 
 yet kindly, but of that commonplace kindliness which 
 frightens like the executioner's politeness at the scaffold. 
 
 He required but a single glance of his small but clear 
 eyes to decipher the physiognomies of all these worthy 
 people standing around the disordered table. 
 
 And beckoning to the agents who accompanied him to 
 stop at the door, 
 
 " Monsieur Vincent Favoral ? " he inquired. 
 
 The cashier's guests, M. Desormeaux excepted,
 
 20 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 seemed stricken with stupor. Each one felt as if he had 
 a share of the disgrace of this police invasion. The dupes 
 who are sometimes caught in clandestine " hells " have 
 the same humiliated attitudes. 
 
 At last, and not without an effort, 
 
 " M. Favoral is no longer here," replied M. Chapelain, 
 the old lawyer. 
 
 The commissary of police started. 
 
 Whilst they were discussing with him through the 
 door, he had perfectly well understood that they were 
 only trying to gain time; and, if he had not at once 
 burst in the door, it was solely owing to his respect for. 
 M. Desormeaux himself, whom he knew personally, and 
 still more for his title of head clerk at the Department 
 of Justice. But his suspicions did not extend beyond the 
 destruction of a few compromising papers. Whereas, 
 in fact, 
 
 " You have helped M. Favoral to escape, gentlemen ? " 
 said he. 
 
 No one replied. 
 
 " Silence means assent," he added. " Very well : 
 which way did he get off ? " 
 
 Still no answer. M. Desclavettes would have been 
 glad to add something to the forty-five thousand francs 
 he had just lost, to be, together with Mme. Desclavettes, 
 a hundred miles away. 
 
 " Where is Mme. Favoral ? " resumed the commissary, 
 evidently well informed. "Where are Mile. Gilberte 
 and M. Maxence Favoral ? " 
 
 They continued silent. No one in the dining-room 
 knew what might have taken place in the other room ; 
 and a single word might be treason. 
 
 The commissary then became impatient. 
 
 " Take up a light," said he to one of the agents who
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 21 
 
 had remained at the door, " and follow me. We shall 
 see." 
 
 And without a shadow of hesitation, for it seems to 
 be the privilege of police-agents to be at home every- 
 where, he crossed the parlor, and reached Mile. Gil- 
 berte's room just as she was withdrawing from the win- 
 dow, i 
 
 " Ah, it is that way he escaped! " he exclaimed. 
 
 He rushed to the window, and remained long enough 
 leaning on his elbows to thoroughly examine the ground, 
 and understand the situation of the apartment. 
 
 " It's evident," he said at last, " this window opens 
 on the courtyard of the next house." 
 
 This was said to one of his agents, who bore an un- 
 mistakable resemblance to the servant who had been 
 asking so many questions in the afternoon. 
 
 " Instead of gathering so much useless information," 
 he added, " why did you not post yourself as to the out- 
 lets of the house ? " 
 
 He was " sold ; " and yet he manifested neither spite 
 nor anger. He seemed in no wise anxious to run 
 after the fugitive. Upon the features of Maxence and 
 of Mile. Gilberte, and more still in Mme. Favoral's eyes, 
 he had read that it would be useless for the pres- 
 ent. 
 
 " Let us examine the papers, then," said he. 
 
 " My husband's papers are all in his study," replied 
 Mme. Favoral. 
 
 " Please lead me to it, madame." 
 
 The room which M. Favoral called loftily his study 
 was a small room with a tile floor, white-washed walls, 
 and meanly lighted through a narrow transom. 
 
 It- was furnished with an old desk, a small wardrobe 
 with grated door, a few shelves upon which were piled
 
 22 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 some bandboxes and bundles of old newspapers, and two 
 or three deal chairs. 
 
 " Where are the keys ? " inquired the commissary of 
 police. 
 
 " My father always carries them in his pocket, sir," 
 replied Maxence. 
 
 " Then let some one go for a locksmith." 
 
 Stronger than fear, curiosity had drawn all the guests 
 of the cashier of the Mutual Credit Society, M. Desor- 
 meaux, M. Chapelain, M. Desclavettes himself; and, 
 standing within the door-frame, they followed eagerly 
 every motion of the commissary, who, pending the 
 arrival of the locksmith, was making a flying examina- 
 tion of the bundles of papers left exposed upon the 
 desk. 
 
 After a while, and unable to hold in any longer, 
 " Would it be indiscreet," timidly inquired the old 
 bronze-merchant, " to ask the nature of the charges 
 against that poor Favoral ? " 
 
 " Embezzlement, sir." 
 
 " And is the amount large ? " 
 
 " Had it been small, I should have said theft. Em- 
 bezzling commences only when the sum has reached a 
 round figure." 
 
 Annoyed at the sardonic tone of the commissary, 
 
 " The fact is," resumed M. Chapelain, " Favoral was 
 our friend ; and, if we could get him out of the scrape, 
 we would all willingly contribute." 
 
 " It's a matter of ten or twelve millions, gentlemen." 
 
 Was it possible ? Was it even likely ? Could any one 
 imagine so many millions slipping through the fingers 
 of M. de Thaller's methodic cashier ? 
 
 " Ah, sir ! " exclaimed Mme. Favoral, " if any thing 
 could relieve my feelings, the enormity of that sum
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 23 
 
 would. My husband was a man of simple and modest 
 tastes." 
 
 The commissary shook his head. 
 
 " There are certain passions," he interrupted, " which 
 nothing betrays externally. Gambling is more terrible 
 than fire. After a fire, some charred remnants are 
 found. What is there left after a lost game ? Fortunes 
 may be thrown into the vortex of the bourse, without 
 a trace of them being left." 
 
 The unfortunate woman was not convinced. 
 
 " I could swear, sir," she protested, " that I knew 
 how my husband spent every hour of his life." 
 
 " Do not swear, madame." 
 
 " All our friends will tell you how parsimonious my 
 husband was." 
 
 " Here, madame, towards yourself and your children, 
 I have no doubt; for seeing is believing: but else- 
 where " 
 
 He was interrupted by the arrival of the locksmith, 
 who, in less than five minutes, had picked all the locks of 
 the old desk. 
 
 But in vain did the commissary search all the drawers. 
 He found only those useless papers which are made relics 
 of by people who have made order their religious faith, 
 uninteresting letters, grocers' and butchers' bills run- 
 ning back twenty years. 
 
 " It is a waste of time to look for any thing here," he 
 growled. 
 
 And in fact he was about to give up his perquisitions, 
 when a bundle thinner than the rest attracted his atten- 
 tion. He cut the thread that bound it; and almost at 
 once, 
 
 " I knew I was right," he said. And holding out a 
 paper to Mme. Favoral,
 
 24 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Read, madame, if you please." 
 It was a bill. She read thus: 
 
 " Sold to M. Favoral an India Cashmere, fr. 8,500. 
 
 Received payment, FORBE & TOWLER." 
 
 " Is it for you, madame," asked the commissary, " that 
 this magnificent shawl was bought ? " 
 
 Stupefied with astonishment, the poor woman still re- 
 fused to admit the evidence. 
 
 " Madame de Thaller spends a great deal," she stam- 
 mered. " My husband often made important purchases 
 for her account." 
 
 " Often, indeed ! " interrupted the commissary of po- 
 lice ; " for here are many other receipted bills, ear- 
 rings, sixteen thousand francs ; a bracelet, three thousand 
 francs ; a parlor set, a horse, two velvet dresses. Here 
 is a part, at least, if not the whole, of the ten millions." 
 
 V. 
 
 HAD the commissary received any information in ad- 
 vance? or was he guided only by the scent peculiar to 
 men of his profession, and the habit of suspecting every- 
 thing, even that which seems most unlikely? 
 
 At any rate he expressed himself in a tone of absolute 
 certainty. 
 
 The agents who had accompanied and assisted him in 
 his researches were winking at each other, and giggling 
 stupidly. The situation struck them as rather pleasant. 
 
 The others, M. Desclavettes, M. Chapelain, and the 
 worthy M. Desormeaux himself, could have racked their 
 brains in vain to find terms wherein to express the im- 
 mensity of their astonishments. Vincent Favoral, their
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 25 
 
 old friend, paying for cashmeres, diamonds, and parlor 
 sets ! Such an idea could not enter in their mind. For 
 whom could such princely gifts be intended? For a 
 mistress, for one of those redoubtable creatures whom 
 fancy represents crouching in the depths of love, like 
 monsters at the bottom of their caves ! 
 
 But how could any one imagine the methodic cashier 
 of the Mutual Credit Society carried away by one of 
 those insane passions which knew no reason? Ruined 
 by gambling, perhaps, but by a woman ! 
 
 Could any one picture him, so homely and so plain 
 here, Rue St. Gilles, at the head of another establishment, 
 and leading elsewhere, in one of the brilliant quarters 
 of Paris, a reckless life, such as strike terror in the 
 bosom of quiet families ? 
 
 Could any one understand the same man at once mi- 
 serly-economical and madly-prodigal, storming when his 
 wife spent a few cents, and robbing to supply the 
 expenses of an adventuress, and collecting in the 
 same drawer the jeweler's accounts and the butcher's 
 bills? 
 
 " It is the climax of absurdity," murmured good M. 
 Desormeaux. 
 
 Maxence fairly shook with wrath. Mile. Gilberte was 
 weeping. 
 
 Mme. Favoral alone, usually so timid, boldly defended, 
 and with her utmost energy, the man whose name she 
 bore. That he might have embezzled millions, she ad- 
 mitted : that he had deceived and betrayed her so shame- 
 fully, that he had made a wretched dupe of her for so 
 many years, seemed to her insensate, monstrous, impos- 
 sible. 
 
 And purple with shame, 
 
 " Your suspicions would vanish at once, sir," she
 
 26 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 said to the commissary, " if I could but explain to you 
 our mode of life." 
 
 Encouraged by his first discovery, he was proceeding 
 more minutely with his perquisitions, undoing the 
 strings of every bundle. 
 
 "It is useless, madame," he answered in that brief tone 
 which made so much impression upon M. Desclavettes. 
 " You can only tell me what you know ; and you know 
 nothing." 
 
 " Never, sir, did a man lead a more regular life than 
 M. Favoral." 
 
 " In appearance, you are right. Besides, to regulate 
 one's disorder is one of the peculiarities of our time. We 
 open credits to our passions, and we keep account of 
 our infamies by double entry. We operate with method. 
 We embezzle millions that we may hang diamonds to 
 the ears of an adventuress ; but we are careful, and we 
 keep the receipted bills." 
 
 " But, sir, I have already told you that I never lost 
 sight of my husband." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Every morning, precisely at nine o'clock, he left 
 home to go to M. de Thaller's office." 
 
 " The whole neighborhood knows that, madame." 
 
 " At half-past five he came home." 
 
 " That, also, is a well-known fact." 
 
 " After dinner he went out to play a game, but it was 
 his only amusement ; and at eleven o'clock he was always 
 in bed." 
 
 " Perfectly correct." 
 
 " Well, then, sir, where could M. Favoral have found 
 time to abandon himself to the excesses of which you 
 accuse him?"
 
 27 
 
 Imperceptibly the commissary of police shrugged his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Far from me, madame," he uttered, " to doubt your 
 good faith. What matters it, moreover, whether your 
 husband spent in this way or in that way the sums which 
 he is charged with having appropriated? But what do 
 your objections prove? Simply that M. Favoral was 
 very skilful, and very much self-possessed. Had he 
 breakfasted when he left you at nine ? No. Pray, then, 
 where did he breakfast ? In a restaurant ? Which ? Why 
 did he come home only at half-past five, when his office 
 actually closed at three o'clock ? Are you quite sure that 
 it was to the Cafe Turc that he went every evening. 
 Finally, why do not you say any thing of the extra work 
 which he always had to attend to, as he pretended, once 
 or twice a month ? Sometimes it was a loan, sometimes 
 a liquidation, or a settlement of dividends, which de- 
 volved upon him. Did he come home then? No. He 
 told you that he would dine out, and that it would be 
 more convenient for him to have a cot put up in his of- 
 fice ; and thus you were twenty- four or forty-eight hours 
 without seeing him. Surely this double existence must 
 have weighed heavily upon him; but he was forbidden 
 from breaking off with you, under penalty of being 
 caught the very next day with his hand in the till. It is 
 the respectability of his official life here which made the 
 other possible, that which has absorbed such enormous 
 sums. The harsher and the closer he were here, the 
 more magnificent he could show himself elsewhere. His 
 household in the Rue St. Gilles was for him a certificate 
 of impunity. Seeing him so economical, every one 
 thought him rich. People who seem to spend nothing 
 are always trusted. Every privation which he imposed
 
 28 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 upon you increased his reputation of austere probity, 
 and raised him farther above suspicion." 
 
 Big tears were rolling down Mme. Favoral's cheeks. 
 
 " Why not tell me the whole truth ? " she stammered. 
 
 " Because I do not know it," replied the commissary ; 
 '" because these are all mere presumptions. I have seen 
 so many instances of similar calculations ! " 
 
 Then regretting, perhaps, to have said so much, 
 
 " But I may be mistaken," lie added : " I do not pre- 
 tend to be infallible." He was just then completing 
 a brief inventory of all the papers found in the old desk. 
 There was nothing left but to examine the drawer which 
 was used for a cash drawer. He found in it in gold, 
 notes, and small change, seven hundred and eighteen 
 francs. 
 
 Having counted this sum, the commissary offered it 
 to Mme. Favoral, saying, 
 
 " This belongs to you madame." 
 
 But instinctively she withdrew her hand. 
 
 " Never ! " she said. 
 
 The commissary went on with a gesture of kindness, 
 
 " I understand your scruples, madame, and yet I must 
 insist. .You may believe me when I tell you that this 
 little sum is fairly and legitimately yours. You have 
 no personal fortune." 
 
 The efforts of the poor woman to keep from bursting 
 into loud sobs were but too visible. 
 
 " I possess nothing in the world, sir," she said in a 
 broken voice. " My husband alone attended to our busi- 
 ness-affairs. He never spoke to me about them ; and I 
 would not have dared to question him. Alone he dis- 
 posed of our money. Every Sunday he handed me the 
 amount which he thought necessary for the expenses of 
 the week, and I rendered him an account of it. When
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 29 
 
 my children or myself were in need of any thing, I told 
 him so, and he gave me what he thought proper. This 
 is Saturday : of what I received last Sunday I have five 
 francs left: that is our whole fortune." 
 
 Positively the commissary was moved. 
 
 " You see, then, madame," he said, " that you cannot 
 hesitate: you must live." 
 
 Maxence stepped forward. 
 
 " Am I not here, sir ? " he said. 
 
 The commissary looked at him keenly, and in a grave 
 tone, 
 
 " I believe indeed, sir," he replied, " that you will not 
 suffer your mother and sister to want for any thing. 
 But resources are not created in a day. Yours, if I have 
 not been deceived, are more than limited just now.'' 
 
 And as the young man blushed, and did not answer, 
 he handed the seven hundred francs to Mile. Gilberte, 
 saying, 
 
 " Take this, mademoiselle : your mother permits it." 
 
 His work was done. To place his seals upon M. Fa- 
 voral's study was the work of a moment. 
 
 Beckoning, then, to his agents to withdraw, and being 
 ready to leave himself, 
 
 " Let not the seals cause you any uneasiness, ma- 
 dame," said the commissary of police to Mme. Favoral. 
 " Before forty-eight hours, some one will come to re- 
 move these papers, and restore to you the free use of that 
 room." 
 
 He went out ; and, as soon as the door had closed be- 
 hind him, 
 
 " Well ? " exclaimed M. Desormeaux. 
 
 But no one had any thing to say. The guests of that 
 house where misfortune had just entered were making 
 haste to leave. The catastrophe was certainly terrible
 
 30 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and unforeseen; but did it not reach them too? Did 
 they not lose among them more than three hundred 
 thousand francs? 
 
 Thus, after a few commonplace protestations, and 
 some of those promises which mean nothing, they with- 
 drew; and, as they were going down the stairs, 
 
 " The commissary took Vincent's escape too easy,'' re- 
 marked M. Desormeaux. " He must know some way to 
 catch him again." 
 
 VI. 
 
 AT last Mme. Favoral found herself alone with her 
 children and free to give herself up to the most frightful 
 despair. 
 
 She dropped heavily upon a seat ; and, drawing to her 
 bosom Maxence and Gilberte, 
 
 " O my children ! " she sobbed, covering them with 
 her kisses and her tears, " my children, we are most 
 unfortunate." 
 
 Not less distressed than herself, they strove, neverthe- 
 less, to mitigate her anguish, to inspire her with suffi- 
 cient courage to bear this crushing trial ; and kneeling at 
 her feet, and kissing her hands, 
 
 " Are we not with you still, mother ? " they kept re- 
 peating. 
 
 But she seemed not to hear them. 
 
 " It is not for myself that I weep," she went on. " I ! 
 what had I still to wait or hope for in life? Whilst 
 you, Maxence, you, my poor Gilberte! If, at least, I 
 could feel myself free from blame ! But no. It is my 
 weakness and my want of courage that have brought on 
 this catastrophe. I shrank from the struggle. I pur- 
 chased my domestic peace at the cost of your future in
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 3> 
 
 the world. I forgot that a mother has sacred duties 
 towards her children." 
 
 Mme. Favoral was at this time a woman of some 
 forty-three years, with delicate and mild features, a 
 countenance overflowing with kindness, and whose 
 whole being exhaled, as it were, an exquisite perfume of 
 noblesse and distinction. 
 
 Happy, she might have been beautiful still, of that 
 autumnal beauty whose maturity has the splendors of 
 the luscious fruits of the later season. 
 
 But she had suffered so much ! The livid paleness of 
 her complexion, the rigid fold of her lips, the nervous 
 shudders that shook her frame, revealed a whole exist- 
 ence of bitter deceptions, of exhausting struggles, and 
 of proudly concealed humiliations. 
 
 And yet every thing seemed to smile upon her at the 
 outset of life. 
 
 She was an only daughter; and her parents, wealthy 
 silk-merchants, had brought her up like the daughter of 
 an archduchess destined to marry some sovereign prince. 
 
 But at fifteen she had lost her mother. Her father, 
 soon tired of his lonely fireside, commenced to seek 
 away from home some diversion from his sorrow. 
 
 He was a man of weak mind, one of those marked 
 in advance to play the part of eternal dupes. Having 
 money, he found many friends. Having once tasted 
 the cup of facile pleasures, he yielded readily to its in- 
 toxication. Suppers, cards, amusements, absorbed his 
 time, to the utter detriment of his business. And, eigh- 
 teen months after his wife's death, he had already spent 
 a large portion of his fortune, when he fell into the hands 
 of an adventuress, whom, without regard for his daugh- 
 ter, he audaciously brought beneath his own roof. 
 
 In provincial cities, where everybody knows everybody
 
 32 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 else, such infamies are almost impossible. They are not 
 quite so rare in Paris, where one is, so to speak, lost in 
 the crowd, and where the restraining power of the neigh- 
 bor's opinion is lacking. 
 
 For two years the poor girl, condemned to bear this 
 illegitimate stepmother, endured nameless sufferings. 
 
 She had just completed her eighteenth year, when, one 
 evening, her father took her aside. 
 
 " I have made up my mind to marry again," he said ; 
 " but I wish first to provide you with a husband. I have 
 looked for one, and found him. He is not very brilliant 
 perhaps ; but he is, it seems, a good, hard-working, eco- 
 nomical fellow, who'll make his way in the world. I 
 had dreamed of something better for you; but times 
 are hard, trade is dull : in short, having only a dowry of 
 twenty thousand francs to give you, I have no right to 
 be very particular. To-morrow I'll bring you my can- 
 didate." 
 
 And, sure enough, the next day that excellent father 
 introduced M. Vincent Favoral to his daughter. 
 
 She was not pleased with him; but she could hardly 
 have said that she was displeased. 
 
 He was, at the age of twenty-five, which he had just 
 reached, a man so utterly lacking in individuality, that 
 he could scarcely have excited any feeling either of sym- 
 pathy or affection. 
 
 Suitably dressed, he seemed timid and awkward, re- 
 served, quite diffident, and of mediocre intelligence. He 
 confessed to have received' a most imperfect education, 
 and declared himself quite ignorant of life. He had 
 scarcely any means outside his profession. He was 
 at this time chief accountant in a large factory of the 
 Faubourg St. Antoine, with a salary of four thousand 
 francs a year.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 33 
 
 The young girl did not hesitate a moment. Any thing 
 appeared to her preferable to the contact of a woman 
 whom she abhorred and despised. 
 
 She gave her consent ; and, twenty days after the first 
 interview, she had become Mme. Favoral. 
 
 Alas ! six weeks had not elapsed, before she knew that 
 she had but exchanged her wretched fate for a more 
 wretched one still. 
 
 Not that her husband was in any way unkind to her 
 (he dared not, as yet) ; but he had revealed himself 
 enough to enable her to judge him. He was one of those 
 formidably selfish men who wither every thing around 
 them, like those trees within the shadow of which noth- 
 ing can grow. His coldness concealed a stupid obsti- 
 nacy ; his mildness, an iron will. 
 
 If he had married, 'twas because he thought a wife a 
 necessary adjunct, because he desired a home wherein to 
 command, because, above all, he had been seduced by 
 the dowry of twenty thousand francs. 
 
 For the man had one passion, money. Under his 
 placid countenance revolved thoughts of the most burn- 
 ing covetousness. He wished to be rich. 
 
 Now, as he had no illusion whatever upon his own 
 merits, as he knew himself to be perfectly incapable of 
 any of those daring conceptions which lead to rapid 
 fortune, as he was in no wise enterprising, he conceived 
 but one means to achieve wealth, that is, to save, to 
 economize, to stint himself, to pile penny upon penny. 
 
 His profession of accountant had furnished him with 
 a number of instances of the financial power of the penny 
 daily saved, and invested so as to yield its maximum 
 of interest. 
 
 If ever his blue eye became animated, it was when he 
 calculated what would be at the present time the capital
 
 34 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 produced by a simple penny placed at five per cent inter- 
 est the year of the birth of our Saviour. 
 
 For him this was sublime. He conceived nothing be- 
 yond. One penny ! He wished, he said, he could have 
 lived eighteen hundred years, to follow the evolutions 
 of that penny, to see it grow tenfold, a hundred-fold, 
 produce, swell, enlarge, and become, after centuries, mil- 
 lions and hundreds of millions. 
 
 In spite of all, he had, during the early months of his 
 marriage, allowed his wife to have a young servant. He 
 gave her from time to time, a five- franc-piece, and took 
 her to the country on Sundays. 
 
 This was the honeymoon ; and, as he declared himself, 
 this life of prodigalities could not last. 
 
 Under a futile pretext, the little servant was dis- 
 missed. He tightened the strings of his purse. The 
 Sunday excursions were suppressed. 
 
 To mere economy succeeded the niggardly parsimony 
 which counts the grains of salt in the pot-au-fen, which 
 weighs the soap for the washing, and measures the even- 
 ing's allowance of candle. 
 
 Gradually the accountant took the habit of treating his 
 young wife like a servant, whose honesty is suspected ; 
 or like a child, whose thoughtlessness is to be feared. 
 Every morning he handed her the money for the ex- 
 penses of the day ; and every evening he expressed his 
 surprise that she had not made better use of it. He ac- 
 cused her of allowing herself to be grossly cheated, or 
 even to be in collusion with the dealers. He charged 
 her with being foolishly extravagant ; which fact, how- 
 ever, he added, did not surprise htm much on the part of 
 the daughter of a man who had dissipated a large for- 
 tune. 
 
 To cap the climax, Vincent Favoral was on the worst
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 35 
 
 possible terms with his father-in-law. Of the twenty 
 thousand francs of his wife's dowry, twelve thous- 
 and only had been paid, and it was in vain that he 
 clamored for the balance. The silk-merchant's business 
 had become unprofitable ; he was on the verge of bank- 
 ruptcy. The eight thousand francs seemed in imminent 
 danger. 
 
 His wife alone he held responsible for this deception. 
 He repeated to her constantly that she had connived with 
 her father to " take him in," to fleece him, to ruin him. 
 
 What an existence ! Certainly, had the unhappy wo- 
 man known where to find a refuge, she would have fled 
 from that home where each of her days was but a pro- 
 tracted torture. But where could she go? Of whom 
 could she beg a shelter? 
 
 She had terrible temptations at this time, when she 
 was not yet twenty, and they called her the beautiful 
 Mme. Favoral. 
 
 Perhaps she would have succumbed, when she discov- 
 ered that she was about to become a mother. One year, 
 day for day, after her marriage, she gave birth to a son, 
 who received the name of Maxence. 
 
 The accountant was but indifferently pleased at the 
 coming of this son : It was, above all, a cause of ex- 
 pense. He had been compelled to give some thirty francs 
 to a nurse, and almost twice as much for the baby's 
 clothes. Then a child breaks up the regularity of one's 
 habits; and he, as he affirmed, was attached to his as 
 much as to life itself. And now he saw his household 
 disturbed, the hours of his meals altered, his own im- 
 portance reduced, his authority, even ignored. 
 
 But what mattered now to his young wife the ill-hu- 
 mor which he no longer took the trouble to conceal? 
 Mother, she defied her tyrant.
 
 36 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Now, at least, she had in this world a being upon 
 whom she could lavish all her caresses so brutally re- 
 pelled. There existed a soul within which she reigned 
 supreme. What troubles would not a smile of her son 
 have made her forget? 
 
 With the admirable instinct of an egotist, M. Favoral 
 understood so well what passed in the mind of his wife, 
 that he dared not complain too much of what the little 
 fellow cost. He made up his mind bravely; and when 
 four years later, his daughter Gilberte was born, instead 
 of lamenting, 
 
 " Bash ! " said he : " God blesses large families." 
 
 VII. 
 
 BUT already, at this time, M. Vincent Favoral's situa- 
 tion had been singularly modified. 
 
 The revolution of 1848 had just taken place. The fac- 
 tory in the Faubourg St. Antoine, where he was em- 
 ployed, had been compelled to close its doors. 
 
 One evening, as he came home at the usual hour, he 
 announced that he had been discharged. 
 
 Mme. Favoral shuddered at the thought of what her 
 husband might be, without work, and deprived of his 
 salary. 
 
 " What is to become of us ? " she murmured. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. Visibly he was much ex- 
 cited. His cheeks were flushed ; his eyes sparkled. 
 
 " Bash ! " he said : " we shan't starve for all that." 
 
 And, as his wife was gazing at him in astonish- 
 ment, 
 
 " Well," he went on, " what are you looking at ? It
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 37 
 
 is so : I know many a one who affects to live on his in- 
 come, and who are not as well off as we are.'' 
 
 It was, for over six years since he was married, the 
 first time that he spoke of his business otherwise than 
 to groan and complain, to accuse fate, and curse the 
 high price of living. The very day before, he had de- 
 clared himself ruined by the purchase of a pair of shoes 
 for Maxence. The change was so sudden and so great, 
 that she hardly knew what to think, and wondered if 
 grief at the loss of his situation had not somewhat dis- 
 turbed his mind. 
 
 " Such are women," he went on with a giggle. " Re- 
 sults astonish them, because they know nothing of the 
 means used to bring them about. Am I a fool, then? 
 Would I impose upon myself privations of all sorts, if 
 it were to accomplish nothing ? Parbleu ! I love fine living 
 too, I do, and good dinners at the restaurant, and the 
 theatre, and the nice little excursions in the country. 
 But I want to be rich. At the price of all the comforts 
 which I have not had, I have saved a capital, the income 
 of which will support us all. Eh, eh ! That's the power 
 of the little penny put out to fatten ! " 
 
 As she went to bed that night, Mme. Favoral felt 
 more happy than she had done since her mother's 
 death. She almost forgave her husband his sordid parsi- 
 mony, and the humiliations he had heaped upon 
 her. 
 
 " Well, be it so," she thought. " I shall have lived 
 miserably, I shall have endured nameless sufferings ; but 
 my children shall be rich, their life shall be easy and 
 pleasant." 
 
 The next day M. Favoral's excitement had completely 
 abated. Manifestly he regretted his confidences. 
 
 " You must not think on that account that vou can
 
 38 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 waste and pillage every thing," he declared rudely. " Be- 
 sides, I have greatly exaggerated." 
 
 And he started in search of a situation. 
 
 To find one was likely to be difficult. Times of revo- 
 lution are not exactly propitious to industry. Whilst the 
 parties discussed in the Chamber, there were on the street 
 twenty thousand clerks, who, every morning as they 
 rose, wondered where they would dine that day. 
 
 For want of any thing better, Vincent Favoral under- 
 took to keep books in various places, an hour here, an 
 hour there, twice a week in one house, four times in an- 
 other. 
 
 In this way he earned as much and more than he did 
 at the factory ; but the business did not suit him. 
 
 What he liked was the office from which one does not 
 stir, the stove-heated atmosphere, the elbow-worn desk, 
 the leather-cushioned chair, the black alpaca sleeves over 
 the coat. The idea that he should on one and the same 
 day have to do with five or six different houses, and be 
 compelled to walk an hour, to go and work another hour 
 at the other end of Paris, fairly irritated him. He found 
 himself out of his reckoning, like a horse who has turned 
 a mill for ten years, if he is made to trot straight before 
 him. 
 
 So, one morning, he gave up the whole thing, swear- 
 ing that he would rather remain idle until he could find 
 a place suited to his taste and his convenience ; and, in 
 the mean time, all they would have to do would be to put 
 a little less butter in the soup, and a little more water 
 in the wine. 
 
 He went out, nevertheless, and remained until dinner- 
 time. And he did the same the next and the following 
 days. 
 
 He started off the moment he had swallowed the last
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 39 
 
 mouthful of his breakfast, came home at six o'clock, 
 dined in haste, and disappeared again, not to return until 
 about midnight. He had hours of delirious joy, and mo- 
 ments of frightful discouragement. Sometimes he seemed 
 horribly uneasy. 
 
 " What can he be doing? " thought Mme. Favoral. 
 
 She ventured to ask him the question one morning, 
 when he was in fine humor. 
 
 " Well," he answered, " am I not the master? I am 
 operating at the bourse, that's all ! " 
 
 He could hardly have owned to any thing that would 
 have frightened the poor woman as much. 
 
 " Are you not afraid," she objected, " to lose all we 
 have so painfully accumulated ? We have children " 
 
 He did not allow her to proceed. 
 
 " Do you take me for a child ? '' he exclaimed ; " or do 
 I look to you like a man so easy to be duped ? Mind to 
 economize in your household expenses, and don't meddle 
 with my business." 
 
 And he continued. And he must have been lucky in 
 his operations; for he had never been so pleasant at 
 home. All his ways had changed. He had had clothes 
 made at a first-class tailor's, and was evidently trying 
 to look elegant. He gave up his pipe, and smoked only 
 cigars. He got tired of giving every morning the money 
 for the house, and took the habit of handing it to his 
 wife every week, on Sunday. A mark of vast confidence, 
 as he observed to her. And so, the first time, 
 
 " Be careful," he said, " that you don't find yourself 
 penniless before Thursday." 
 
 He became also more communicative. Often during 
 the dinner, he would tell what he had heard during the 
 day, anecdotes, gossip. He enumerated the persons with 
 whom he had spoken. He named a number of people
 
 40 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 whom he called his friends, and whose names Mme. Fa- 
 voral carefully stored away in her memory. 
 
 There was one especially, who seemed to inspire him 
 with a profound respect, a boundless admiration, and of 
 whom he never tired of talking. He was, said he, a man 
 of his age, M. de Thaller, the Baron de Thaller. 
 
 " This one," he kept repeating, " is really mad : he is 
 rich, he has ideas, he'll go far. It would be a great piece 
 of luck if I could get him to do something for me ! " 
 
 Until at last one day, 
 
 " Your parents were very rich once ? " he asked his 
 wife. 
 
 " I have heard it said," she answered. 
 
 " They spent a good deal of money, did they not ? 
 They had friends : they gave dinner-parties." 
 
 " Yes, they received a good deal of company." 
 
 "You remember that time?" 
 
 " Surely I do." 
 
 " So that if I should take a fancy to receive some one 
 here, some one of note, you would know how to do 
 things properly? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 He remained silent for a moment, like a man who 
 thinks before taking an important decision, and then, 
 
 " I wish to invite a few persons to dinner," he said. 
 
 She could scarcely believe her ears. He had never re- 
 ceived at his table any one but a fellow-clerk at the fac- 
 tory, named Desclavettes, who had just married the 
 daughter of a dealer in bronzes, and succeeded to his 
 business. 
 
 " Is it possible ? " exclaimed Mme. Favoral. 
 
 " So it is. The question is now, How much would a 
 first-class dinner cost, the best of every thing? " 
 
 " That depends upon the number of guests."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 41 
 
 " Say three or four persons." 
 
 The poor woman set herself to figuring diligently for 
 some time ; and then timidly, for the sum seemed formi- 
 dable to her, 
 
 " I think/' she began, " that with a hundred francs " 
 
 Her husband commenced whistling. 
 
 " You'll need that for the wines alone," he interrupted. 
 *' Do you take me for a fool ? But here, don't let us go 
 into figures. Do as your parents did when they did their 
 best; and, if it's well, I shall not complain of the ex- 
 pense. Take a good cook, hire a waiter who understands 
 his business well." 
 
 She was utterly confounded ; and yet she was not at 
 the end of her surprises. 
 
 Soon M. Favoral declared that their table-ware was 
 not suitable, and that he must buy a new set. He dis- 
 covered a hundred purchases to be made, and swore that 
 he would make them. He even hesitated a moment 
 about renewing the parlor furniture, although it was in 
 tolerably good condition still, and was a present from 
 his father-in-law. 
 
 And, having finished his inventory, 
 
 " And you," he asked his wife : " what dress will you 
 wear ? " 
 
 " I have my black silk dress " 
 
 He stopped her. . 
 
 " Which means that you have none at all," he said. 
 " Very well. You must go this very day and get your- 
 self one, a very handsome, a magnificent one; and 
 you'll send it to be made to a fashionable dressmaker. 
 And at the same time you had better get some little 
 suits for Maxence and Gilberte. Here are a thousand 
 francs." 
 
 Completelv bewildered.
 
 42 O'iriER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Who in the world are you going to invite, then? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " The Baron and the Baroness de Thaller," he replied 
 with an emphasis full of conviction. " So try and dis- 
 tinguish yourself. Our fortune is at s^ake." 
 
 That this dinner was a matter of considerable import, 
 Mme. Favoral could not doubt when she saw her hus- 
 band's fabulous liberality continue without flinching for 
 a number of days. 
 
 Ten times of an afternoon he would come home to tell 
 his wife the name of some dish that had been mentioned 
 before him, or to consult her on the subject of some ex- 
 otic viand he had just noticed in some shop-window. 
 Daily he brought home wines of the most fantastic vin- 
 tages, those wines which dealers manufacture for the 
 special use of verdant fools, and which they sell in odd- 
 shaped bottles previously overlaid with secular dust and 
 cobwebs. 
 
 He subjected to a protracted cross-examination the 
 cook whom Mme. Favoral had engaged, and demanded 
 that she should enumerate the houses where she had 
 cooked. He absolutely required the man who was to 
 wait at the table to exhibit the dress-coat he was to wear. 
 
 The great day having come, he did not stir from the 
 house, going and coming from the kitchen to the dining- 
 room, uneasy, agitated, unable to stay in one place. He 
 breathed only when he had seen the table set and loaded 
 with the new china he had purchased and the magnificent 
 silver he had gone to hire in person. 
 
 And when his young wife made her appearance, look- 
 ing lovely in her new dress, and leading by the hands 
 the two children, Maxence and Gilberte, in their new 
 suits, 
 
 " That's perfect," he exclaimed, highly delighted.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 43 
 
 " Nothing could be better. Now, let our four guests 
 come ! " 
 
 They arrived a few minutes before seven, in two car- 
 riages, the magnificence of which astonished the Rue St. 
 Gilles. 
 
 And, the presentations over, Vincent Favoral had at 
 last the ineffable satisfaction to see seated at his table the 
 Baron and Baroness de Thaller, M. Saint Pavin, who 
 called himself a financial editor, and M. Jules Jottras, 
 of the house of Jottras & Brother. 
 
 It was with an eager curiosity that Mme. Favoral ob- 
 served these people whom her husband called his friends, 
 and whom she saw herself for the first time. 
 
 M. de Thaller, who could not then have been much 
 over thirty, was already a man without any particular 
 age. 
 
 Cold, stiff, aping evidently the English style, he ex- 
 pressed himself in brief sentences, and with a strong 
 foreign accent. Nothing to surprise on his countenance. 
 He had the forehead prominent, the eyes of a dull blue, 
 and the nose very thin. His scanty hair was spread over 
 the top of his head with labored symmetry ; and his red, 
 thick, and carefully-trimmed whiskers seemed to engross 
 much of his attention. 
 
 M. Saint Pavin had not the same stiff manner. Care- 
 less in his dress, he lacked breeding. He was a robust 
 fellow, dark and bearded, with thick lips, the eye bright 
 and prominent, spreading upon the table-cloth broad 
 hands ornamented at the joints with small tufts of hair, 
 speaking loud, laughing noisily, eating much and drink- 
 ing more. 
 
 By the side of him, M. Jules Jottras, although looking 
 like a fashion-plate, did not show to much advantage. 
 Delicate, blonde, sallow, almost beardless, M. Jottras dis-
 
 44 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 tinguished himself only by a sort of unconscious impu- 
 dence, a harmless cynicism, and a sort of spasmodic 
 giggle, that shook the eye-glasses which he wore stuck 
 over his nose. 
 
 But it was above all Mme. de Thaller who excited 
 Mme. Favoral's apprehensions. 
 
 Dressed with a magnificence of at least questionable 
 taste, very much decolletee, wearing large diamonds at 
 her ears, and rings on all her fingers, the young baroness 
 was insolently handsome, of a beauty sensuous even to 
 coarseness. With hair of a bluish black, twisted over the 
 neck in heavy ringlets, she had skin of a pearly white- 
 ness, lips redder than blood, and great eyes that threw 
 flames from beneath their long, curved lashes. It was 
 the poetry of flesh; and one could not help admiring. 
 Did she speak, however, or make a gesture, all admira- 
 tion vanished. The voice was vulgar, the motion com- 
 mon. Did M. Jouras venture upon a double-entendre, 
 she would throw herself back upon her chair to laugh, 
 stretching her neck, and thrusting her throat forward. 
 
 Wholly absorbed in the care of his guests, M. Favoral 
 remarked nothing. He only thought of loading the 
 plates, and filling the glasses, complaining that they ate 
 and drank nothing, asking anxiously if the cooking was 
 not good, if the wines were bad, and almost driving 
 the waiter out of his wits with questions and sugges- 
 tions. 
 
 It is a fact, that neither M. de Thaller nor M. Jottras 
 had much appetite. But M. Saint Pavin officiated for 
 all ; and the sole task of keeping up with him caused M. 
 Favoral to become visibly animated. 
 
 His cheeks were much flushed, when, having passed 
 the champagne all around, he raised his froth-tipped 
 glass, exclaiming,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 45 
 
 " I drink to the success of the business." 
 
 " To the success of the business," echoed the others, 
 touching his glass. 
 
 And a few moments later they passed into the parlor 
 to take coffee. 
 
 This toast had caused Mme. Favoral no little uneasi- 
 ness. But she found it impossible to ask a single ques- 
 tion ; Mme de Thaller dragging her almost by force to a 
 seat by her side on the sofa, pretending that two women 
 always have secrets to exchange, even when they see 
 each other for the first time. 
 
 The young baroness was fully au fait in matters of 
 bonnets and dresses; and it was with giddy volubility 
 that she asked Mme. Favoral the names of her milliner 
 and her dressmaker, and to what jeweller she intrusted 
 her diamonds to be reset. 
 
 This looked so much like a joke, that the poor house- 
 keeper of the Rue St. Gilles could not help smiling whilst 
 answering that she had no dressmaker, and that, having 
 no diamonds, she had no possible use for the services of 
 a jeweller. 
 
 The other declared she could not get over it. No dia- 
 monds! That was a misfortune exceeding all. And 
 quick she seized the opportunity charitably to enumerate 
 the parures in her jewel-case, and laces in her drawers, 
 and the dresses in her wardrobes. In the first place, it 
 would have been impossible for her, she swore, to live 
 with a husband either miserly or poor. Hers had just 
 presented her with a lovely coupe, lined with yellow 
 satin, a perfect bijou. And she made good use of it too ; 
 for she loved to go about. She spent her days shopping, 
 or riding in the Bois. Every evening she had the choice 
 of the theatre or a ball, often both. The genre theatres 
 were those she preferred. To be sure, the opera and the
 
 46 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Italians were more stylish ; but she could not help gaping 
 there. 
 
 Then she wished to kiss the children; and Gilberte 
 and Maxence had to be brought in. She adored chil- 
 dren, she vowed : it was her weakness, her passion. She 
 had herself a little girl, eighteen months old, called 
 Cesarine, to whom she was devoted; and certainly she 
 would have brought her, had she not feared she would 
 have been in the way. 
 
 All this verbiage sounded like a confused murmur to 
 Mme. Favoral's ears. " Yes, no," she answered, hardly 
 knowing to what she did answer. 
 
 Her head heavy with a vague apprehension, it re- 
 quired her utmost attention to observe her husband and 
 his guests. 
 
 Standing by the mantel-piece, smoking their cigars, 
 they conversed with considerable animation, but not loud 
 enough to enable her to hear all they said. It was only 
 when M. Saint Pavin spoke that she understood that 
 they were still discussing the " business ; " for he spoke 
 of articles to publish, stocks to sell, dividends to dis- 
 tribute, sure profits to reap. 
 
 They all, at any 'rate, seemed to agree perfectly; and 
 at a certain moment she saw her husband and M. de 
 Thaller strike each other's hand, as people do who ex- 
 change a pledge. 
 
 Eleven o'clock struck. 
 
 M. Favoral was insisting to make his guests accept a 
 cup of tea or a glass of punch ; but M. de Thaller de- 
 clared that he had some work to do, and that, his carriage 
 having come, he must go. 
 
 And go he did, taking with him the baroness, followed 
 by M. Saint Pavin and M. Jottras.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 4? 
 
 And when, the door having closed upon them, M. 
 Favoral found himself alone with his wife, 
 
 " Well," he exclaimed, swelling with gratified vanity, 
 " what do you think of our friends ? " 
 
 " They surprised me," she answered. 
 
 He fairly jumped at that word. 
 
 " I should like to know why ? " 
 
 Then, timidly, and with infinite precautions, she com- 
 menced explaining that M. de Thaller's face inspired her 
 with no confidence ; that M. Jottras had seemed to her a 
 very impudent personage; that M. Saint Pavin ap- 
 peared low and vulgar; and that, finally, the young 
 baroness had given her of herself the most singular 
 idea. 
 
 M. Favoral refused to hear more. 
 
 " It's because you have never seen people of the best 
 society," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Excuse me. Formerly, during my mother's life " 
 
 "Eh! Your mother never received but shop-keep- 
 ers." 
 
 The poor woman dropped her head. 
 
 " I beg of you, Vincent," she insisted, " before doing 
 any thing with these new friends, think well, consult " 
 
 He burst out laughing. 
 
 "Are you not afraid that they will cheat me?" he 
 said, " people ten times as rich as we are. Here, don't 
 let us speak of it any more, and let us go to bed. You'll 
 see what this dinner will bring us, and whether I ever 
 have reason to regret the money we have spent."
 
 48 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 VIII. 
 
 WHEN, on the morning after this dinner, which was 
 co form an era in her life, Mme. Favoral woke up, her 
 husband was already up, pencil in hand, and busy figur- 
 ing- 
 
 The charm had vanished with the fumes of the cham- 
 pagne ; and the clouds of the worst days were gathering 
 upon his brow. 
 
 Noticing that his wife was looking at him, 
 
 " It's expensive work," he said in a bluff tone, " to set 
 a business going ; and it wouldn't do to commence over 
 again every day." 
 
 To hear him speak, one would have thought that Mme. 
 Favoral alone, by dint of hard begging, had persuaded 
 him, into that expense which he now seemed to 
 regret so much. She quietly called his attention to 
 the fact, reminding him that, far from urging, she 
 had endeavored to hold him back ; repeating that she 
 augured ill of that business over which he was so 
 enthusiastic, and that, if he would believe her, he 
 would not venture. 
 
 " Do you even know what the project is ? " he inter- 
 rupted rudely. 
 
 " You have not told me." 
 
 " Very well, then : leave me in peace with your pre- 
 sentiments. You dislike my friends; and I saw very 
 well how you treated Mme. de Thaller. But I am the 
 master; and what I have decided shall be. Besides, I 
 have signed. Once for all, I forbid you ever speaking 
 to me again on that subject." 
 
 Whereupon, having dressed himself with much care, 
 he started off, saying that he was expected at breakfast
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 49 
 
 by Saint Pavin, the financial editor, and by M. Jottras, 
 of the house of Jottras & Brother. 
 
 A shrewd woman would not have given it up so easy, 
 and, in the end, would probably have mastered the 
 despot, whose intellect was far from brilliant. But 
 Mme. Favoral was too proud to be shrewd ; and besides, 
 the springs of her will had been broken by the successive 
 oppression of an odious stepmother and a brutal master. 
 Her abdication of all was complete. Wounded, she kept 
 the secret of her wound, hung her head, and said noth- 
 ing. 
 
 She did not, therefore, venture a single allusion ; and 
 nearly a week elapsed, during which the names of her 
 late guests were not once mentioned. 
 
 It was through a newspaper, which M. Favoral had 
 forgotten in the parlor, that she learned that the Baron 
 de Thaller had just founded a new stock company, the 
 Mutual Credit Society, with a capital of several millions. 
 
 Below the advertisement, which was printed in enor- 
 mous letters, came a long article, in which it was demon- 
 strated that the new company was, at the same time, a 
 patriotic undertaking and an institution of credit of 
 the first class ; that it supplied a great public want ; that 
 it would be of inestimable benefit to industry ; that its 
 profits were assured ; and that to subscribe to its stock 
 was simply to draw short bills upon fortune. 
 
 Already somewhat re-assured by the reading of this 
 article, Mme. Favoral became quite so when she read the 
 names of the board of directors. Nearly all were titled, 
 and decorated with many foreign orders; and the re- 
 mainder were bankers, office-holders, and even some ex- 
 ministers. 
 
 " I must have been mistaken," she thought, yielding 
 unconsciously to the influence of printed evidence.
 
 50 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And no objection occurred to her, when, a few days 
 later, her husband told her, 
 
 " I have the situation I wanted. I am head cashier 
 of the company of which M. de Thaller is manager." 
 
 That was all. Of the nature of this society, of the 
 advantages which it offered him, not one word. 
 
 Only by the way in which he expressed himself did 
 Mme. Favoral judge that he must have been well 
 treated ; and he further confirmed her in that opinion by 
 granting her, of his own accord, a few additional francs 
 for the daily expenses of the house. 
 
 " We must," he declared on this memorable occasion, 
 " do honor to our social position, whatever it may cost." 
 
 For the first time in his life, he seemed heedful of 
 public opinion. He recommended his wife to be careful 
 of her dress and of that of the children, and re-engaged 
 a servant. He expressed the wish of enlarging their 
 circle of acquaintances, and inaugurated his Saturday 
 dinners, to which came assiduously, M. and Mme. Des- 
 clavettes, M. Chapelain the attorney, the old man Desor- 
 meaux, and a few others. 
 
 As to himself he gradually settled down into those 
 habits from which he was nevermore to depart, and the 
 chronometric regularity of which had secured him the 
 nickname of Old Punctuality, of which he was proud. 
 
 In all other respects never did a man, to such a degree, 
 become so utterly indifferent to his wife and children. 
 His house was for him but a mere hotel, where he slept, 
 and took his evening meal. He never thought of ques- 
 tioning his wife as to the use of her time, and what she 
 did in his absence. Provided she did not ask him for 
 money, and was there when he came home, he was satis- 
 fied. 
 
 Many women, at Mme. Favoral's age, might have
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 51 
 
 made a strange use of that insulting indifference and of 
 that absolute freedom. 
 
 If she did avail herself of it, it was solely to follow 
 one of those inspirations which can only spring in a 
 mother's heart. 
 
 The increase in the budget of the household was rela- 
 tively large, but so nicely calculated, that she had not one 
 cent more that she could call her own. 
 
 With the most intense sorrow, she thought that her 
 children might have to endure the humiliating priva- 
 tions which had made her own life wretched. They 
 were too young yet to suffer from the paternal parsi- 
 mony; but they would grow; their desires would de- 
 velop ; and it would be impossible for her to grant them 
 the most innocent satisfactions. 
 
 Whilst turning over and over in her mind this distress- 
 ing thought, she remembered a friend of her mother's, 
 who kept, in the Rue St. Denis, a large establishment for 
 the sale of hosiery and woollen goods. There, perhaps, 
 lay the solution of the problem. She called to see the 
 worthy woman, and, without even needing to confess 
 the whole truth to her, she obtained sundry pieces of 
 work, ill paid as a matter of course, but which, by dint 
 of close application, might be made to yield from eight 
 to twelve francs a week. 
 
 From this time she never lost a minute, concealing 
 her work as if it were an evil act. 
 
 She knew her husband well enough to feel certain 
 that he would break out, and swear that he spent money 
 enough to enable his wife to live without being reduced 
 to making a workwoman of herself. 
 
 But what joy, the day when she hid way down at the 
 bottom of a drawer the first twenty-franc-piece she had 
 earned, a beautiful gold-piece, which belonged to her
 
 52 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 without contest, and which she might spend as she 
 pleased, without having to render any account to any 
 one! 
 
 And with what pride, from week to week, she saw her 
 little treasure swell, despite the drafts she made upon it, 
 sometimes to buy a toy for Maxence, sometimes to add a 
 few ribbons or trinkets to Gilberte's toilet ! 
 
 This was the happiest time of her life, a halt in that 
 painful journey through which she had been dragging 
 herself for so many years. Between her two children, 
 the hours flew light and rapid as so many seconds. If 
 all the hopes of the young girl and of the woman had 
 withered before they had blossomed, the mother's joys, 
 at least should not fail her. Because, whilst the present 
 sufficed to her modest ambition, the future had ceased to 
 cause her any uneasiness. 
 
 No reference had ever been made, between herself and 
 her husband, to that famous dinner-party: he never 
 spoke to her of the Mutual Credit Society ; but now and 
 then he allowed some words or exclamations to escape, 
 which she carefully recorded, and which betrayed a pros- 
 perous state of affairs. 
 
 " That Thaller is a tough fellow ! " he would exclaim, 
 " and he has the most infernal luck ! " 
 
 And at other times, 
 
 " Two or three more operations like the one we 
 have just successfully wound up, and we can shut up 
 shop!" 
 
 From all this, what could she conclude, if not that he 
 was marching with rapid strides towards that fortune, 
 the object of all his ambition? 
 
 Already in the neighborhood he had that reputation 
 to be very rich, which is the beginning of riches itself. 
 He was admired for keeping his house with such rigid
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 53 
 
 economy ; for a man is always esteemed who has money, 
 and does not spend it. 
 
 "He is not the man ever to squander what he has," 
 the neighbors repeated. 
 
 The persons whom he received on Saturdays believed 
 him more than comfortably off. When M. Desclavettes 
 and M. Chapelain had complained to their hearts' con- 
 tents, the one of the shop, the other of his office, they 
 never failed to add, 
 
 " You laugh at us, because you are engaged in large 
 operations, where people make as much money as they 
 like." 
 
 They seemed to hold his financial capacities in high 
 estimation. They consulted him, and followed his ad- 
 vice. 
 
 M. Desormeaux was wont to say, 
 
 " Oh ! he knows what he is about." 
 
 And Mme. Favoral tried to persuade herself, that, in 
 this respect at least, her husband was a remarkable man. 
 She attributed his silence and his distractions to the 
 grave cares that filled his mind. In the same manner 
 that he had once announced to her that they had enough 
 to live on, she expected him, some fine morning, to tell 
 her that he was a millionaire. 
 
 IX. 
 
 BUT the respite granted by fate to Mme. Favoral was 
 drawing to an end : her trials were about to return more 
 poignant than ever, occasioned, this time, by her chil- 
 dren, hitherto her whole happiness and her only consola- 
 tion. 
 
 Maxence was nearly twelve. He was a good little
 
 54 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 fellow, intelligent, studious at times, but thoughtless in 
 the extreme, and of a turbulence which nothing could 
 tame. 
 
 At the Massin School, where he had been sent, he 
 made his teachers' hair turn white ; and not a week went 
 by that he did not signalize himself by some fresh mis- 
 deed. 
 
 A father like any other would have paid but slight at- 
 tention to the pranks of a schoolboy, who, after all, 
 ranked among the first of his class, and of whom the 
 teachers themselves, whilst complaining, said, 
 
 " Bash ! What matters it, since the heart is sound 
 and the mind sane ? " 
 
 But M. Favoral took every thing tragically. If Max- 
 ence w.as kept in, or otherwise punished, he pretended 
 that it reflected upon himself, and that his son was dis- 
 gracing him. 
 
 If a report came home with this remark, " execrable 
 conduct," he fell into the most violent passion, and 
 seemed to lose all control of himself. 
 
 " At your age," he would shout to the terrified boy, 
 " I was working in a factory, and earning my livelihood. 
 Do you suppose that I will not tire of making sacrifices 
 to procure you the advantages of an education which I 
 lacked myself? Beware. Havre is not far off; and 
 cabin-boys are always in demand there." 
 
 If, at least, he had confined himself to these admon- 
 itions, which, by their very exaggeration, failed in their 
 object! But he favored mechanical appliances as a 
 necessary means of sufficiently impressing reprimands 
 upon the minds of young people ; and therefore, seizing 
 his cane, he would beat poor Maxence most unmerci- 
 fully, the more so that the boy. filled with pride, would
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 55 
 
 have allowed himself to be chopped to pieces rather than 
 utter a cry, or shed a tear. 
 
 The first time that Mme. Favoral saw her son struck, 
 she was seized with one of those wild fits of anger which 
 do not reason, and never forgive. To be beaten herself 
 would have seemed to her less atrocious, less humiliat- 
 ing. Hitherto she had found it impossible to love a hus- 
 band such as hers: henceforth, she took him in utter 
 aversion : he inspired her with horror. She looked upon 
 her son as a martyr for whom she could hardly ever do 
 enough. 
 
 And so, after these harrowing scenes, she would press 
 him to her heart in the most passionate embrace; she 
 would cover with her kisses the traces of the blows ; and 
 she would strive, by the most delirious caresses, to 
 make him forget the paternal brutalities. With him she 
 sobbed. Like him, she would shake her clinched fists in 
 the vacant space, exclaiming, " Coward, tyrant, assas- 
 sin !" The little Gilberte mingled her tears with theirs ; 
 and, pressed against each other, they deplored their des- 
 tiny, cursing the common enemy, the head of the fam- 
 ily. 
 
 Thus did Maxence spend his boyhood between equally 
 fatal exaggerations, between the revolting brutalities of 
 his father, and the dangerous caresses of his mother; 
 the one depriving him of every thing, the other refusing 
 him nothing. 
 
 For Mme. Favoral had now found a use for her hum- 
 ble savings. 
 
 If the idea had never come to the cashier of the 
 Mutual Credit Society to put a few sous in his son's 
 pocket, the too weak mother would' have suggested to 
 him the want of money in order to have the pleasure 
 of gratifying it.
 
 56 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 She who had suffered so many humiliations in her 
 life, she could not bear the idea of her son having his 
 pride wounded, and being unable to indulge in those 
 little trifling expenses which are the vanity of school- 
 boys. 
 
 " Here, take this," she would tell him on holidays, 
 slipping a few francs into his hands. 
 
 Unfortunately, to her present she joined the recom- 
 mendation not to allow his father to know any thing 
 about it; forgetting that she was thus training Max- 
 ence to dissimulate, warping his natural sense of right, 
 and perverting his instincts. 
 
 No, she gave; and, to repair the gaps thus made in 
 her treasure, she worked to the point of ruining her 
 sight, with such eager zeal, that the worthy shop-keeper 
 of the Rue St. Denis asked her if she did not employ 
 working girls. In truth, the only help she received was 
 from Gilberte, who, at the age of eight, already knew 
 how to make herself useful. 
 
 And this is not all. For this son, in anticipation of 
 growing expenses, she stooped to expedients which for- 
 merly would have seemed to her unworthy and disgrace- 
 ful. She robbed the household, cheating on her own 
 marketing. She went so far as to confide to her servant, 
 and to make of the girl the accomplice of her operations. 
 She applied all her ingenuity to serve to M. Favoral 
 dinners in which the excellence of the dressing concealed 
 the want of solid substance. And on Sunday, when she 
 rendered her weekly accounts, it was without a blush 
 that she increased by a few centimes the price of each 
 object, rejoicing when she had thus scraped a dozen 
 francs, and finding, to justify herself to her own eyes, 
 those sophisms which passion never lacks. 
 
 At first Maxence was too young to wonder from what
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 57 
 
 sources his mother drew the money she lavished upon 
 his schoolboy fancies. She recommended him to hide 
 from his father: he did so, and thought it perfectly 
 natural. 
 
 As he grew older, he learned to discern. 
 
 The moment came when he opened his eyes upon the 
 system under which the paternal household was man- 
 aged. He noticed there that anxious economy which 
 seems to betray want, and the acrimonious discussions 
 which arose upon the inconsiderate use of a twenty- 
 franc-piece. He saw his mother realize miracles of in- 
 dustry to conceal the shabbiness of her toilets, and resort 
 to the most skilful diplomacy when she wished to pur- 
 chase a dress for Gilberte. 
 
 And, despite all this, he had at his disposition as much 
 money as those of his comrades whose parents had the 
 reputation to be the most opulent and the most gen- 
 erous. 
 
 Anxious, he questioned his mother. 
 
 " Eh what does it matter ? " she answered, blushing 
 and confused. " Is that any thing to worry you ? " 
 
 And, as he insisted, 
 
 " Go ahead," she said : " we are rich enough." 
 
 But he could hardly believe her, accustomed as he 
 was to hear every one talk of poverty ; and, as he fixed 
 upon her his great astonished eyes, 
 
 " Yes," she resumed, with an imprudence which 
 fatally was to bear its fruits, " we are rich ; and, if we 
 live as you see, it is because it suits your father, who 
 wishes to amass a still greater fortune." 
 
 This was hardly an answer ; and yet Maxence asked 
 no further question. But he inquired here and there, 
 with that patient shrewdness of young people possessed 
 with a fixed idea.
 
 58 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Already, at this time, M. Favoral had in the neigh- 
 borhood, and even among his friends, the reputation to 
 be worth at least a million. The Mutual Credit Society 
 had considerably developed itself: he must, they 
 thought, have benefited largely by the circumstance; 
 and the profits must have swelled rapidly in the hands 
 of so able a man, and one so noted for his rigid econ- 
 omy. . 
 
 Such is the substance of what Maxence heard; and 
 people did not fail to add ironically, that he need not 
 rely upon the paternal fortune to amuse himself. 
 
 M. Desormeaux himself, whom he had " pumped '' 
 rather cleverly, had told him, whilst patting him ami- 
 cably on the shoulder, 
 
 " If you ever need money for your frolics, young 
 man, try and earn it; for I'll be hanged if it's the old 
 man who'll ever supply it." 
 
 Such answers complicated, instead of explaining, the 
 problem which occupied Maxence. 
 
 He observed, he watched ; and at last he acquired the 
 certainty that the money he spent was the fruit of the 
 joint labor of his mother and sister. 
 
 " Ah ! why not have told me so ? " he exclaimed, 
 throwing his arms around his mother's neck. " Why 
 have exposed me to the bitter regrets which I feel at this 
 moment ? " 
 
 By this sole word the poor woman found herself am- 
 ply repaid. She admired the noblesse of her son's feel- 
 ings and the kindness of his heart. 
 
 " Do you not understand," she told him, shedding 
 tears of joy, " do you not see, that the labor which can 
 promote her son's pleasure is a happiness for his 
 mother?" 
 
 But he was dismayed at his discovery.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 59 
 
 " No matter ! " he said. " I swear that I shall no 
 longer scatter to the winds, as I have been doing, the 
 money that you give me." 
 
 For a few weeks, indeed, he was faithful to his* 
 pledge. But at fifteen resolutions are not very stanch. 
 The impressions he had felt wore off. He became tired 
 of the small privations which he had to impose upon 
 himself. 
 
 He soon came to take to the letter what his mother 
 had told him, and to prove to his own satisfaction that 
 to deprive himself of a pleasure was to deprive her. He 
 asked for ten francs one day, then ten francs another, 
 and gradually resumed his old habits. 
 
 He was at this time about leaving school. 
 
 " The moment has come," said M. Favoral, " for 
 him to select a career, and support himself." 
 
 X. 
 
 To think of a profession, Maxence Favoral had not 
 waited for the paternal warnings. 
 
 Modern schoolboys are precocious: they know the 
 strong and the weak side of life; and, when they take 
 their degree, they already have but few illusions left. 
 
 And how could it be otherwise? In the interior of 
 the colleges is fatally found the echo of the thoughts, 
 and the reflex of the manners, of the time. Neither 
 walls nor keepers can avail. At the same time, as the 
 city mud that stains their boots, the scholars bring back 
 on their return from holidays their stock of observations 
 and of facts. 
 
 And what have they seen during the day in their 
 families, or among their friends ?
 
 6o OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Ardent cravings, insatiable appetites for luxuries, 
 comforts, enjoyments, pleasures, contempt for patient 
 labor, scorn for austere convictions, eager longing for 
 money, the will to become rich at any cost, and the fb , 
 resolution to ravish fortune on the first favorable occa- 
 sion. 
 
 To be sure, they have dissembled in their presence; 
 but their perceptions are keen. 
 
 True, their father has told them in a grave tone, that 
 there is nothing respectable in this world except labor 
 and honesty; but they have caught that same father 
 scarcely noticing a poor devil of an honest man, and 
 bowing to the earth before some clever rascal bearing 
 the stigma of three judgments, but worth six millions. 
 
 Conclusion? Oh! they know very well how to con- 
 clude; for there are none such as young people to be 
 logical, and to deduce the utmost consequences of a fact. 
 
 They know, the most of them, that they will have to 
 do something or other ; but what ? And it is then, that, 
 during the recreations, their imagination strives to find 
 that hitherto unknown profession which is to give them 
 fortune without work, and freedom at the same time as 
 a brilliant situation. 
 
 They discuss and criticise freely all the careers which 
 are open to youthful ambition. And how they laugh, if 
 some simple fellow ventures upon suggesting some of 
 those modest situations where they earn one hundred 
 and fifty francs a month at the start! One hundred 
 and fifty francs ! why, it's hardly as much as many a 
 boy spends for his cigars, and his cab-fares when he is 
 late. 
 
 Maxence was neither better nor worse than the rest. 
 Like the rest he strove to discover the ideal profession
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 61 
 
 which makes a man rich, and amuses him at the same 
 time. 
 
 Under the pretext that he drew nicely, he spoke of 
 becoming a painter, calculating coolly what painting 
 may yield, and reckoning, according to some news- 
 paper, the earnings of Corot or Gerome, Ziem, Bougue- 
 reau, and some others, who are reaping at last the 
 fruits of unceasing efforts and crushing labors. 
 
 But, in the way of pictures, M. Vincent Favoral ap- 
 preciated only the blue vignettes of the Bank of France. 
 
 " I wish no artists in my family," he said, in a tone 
 that admitted of no reply. 
 
 Maxence would willingly have become an engineer, 
 for it's rather the style to be an engineer now-a-days; 
 but the examinations for the Polytechnic School are 
 rather steep. Or else a cavalry officer; but the two 
 years at Saint Cyr are not very gay. Or chief clerk, 
 like M. Desormeaux; but he would have to begin by 
 being supernumerary. 
 
 Finally after hesitating for a long time between law 
 and medicine, he made up his mind to become a lawyer, 
 influenced above all, by the joyous legends of the 
 Latin quarter. 
 
 That was not exactly M. Vincent Favoral's dream. 
 
 " That's going to cost monev again," he growled. 
 
 The fact is, he had indulged in the fallacious hope that 
 his son, as soon as he left college, would enter at once 
 some business-house, where he would earn enough to 
 take care of himself. 
 
 He yielded at last, however, to the persistent en- 
 treaties of his wife, and the solicitations of his friends. 
 
 " Be it so," he said to Maxence : " you will study law. 
 Only, as it cannot suit me that you should waste your
 
 62 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 days lounging in the billiard-rooms of the left bank, 
 you shall at the same time work in an attorney's office. 
 Next Saturday I shall arrange with my friend Chape- 
 lain." 
 
 Maxence had not bargained for such an arrangement ; 
 and he came near backing out at the prospect of a dis- 
 cipline which he foresaw must be as exacting as that 
 of the college. 
 
 Still, as he could think of nothing better, he perse- 
 vered. And, vacations over, he was duly entered at the 
 law-school, and settled at a desk in M. Chapelain's office, 
 which was then in the Rue St. Antoine. 
 
 The first year every thing went on tolerably. He en- 
 joyed as much freedom as he cared to. His father did 
 not allow him one centime for his pocket-money ; but the 
 attorney, in his capacity of an old friend of the family, 
 did for him what he had never done before for an am- 
 ateur clerk, and allowed him twenty francs a month. 
 Mme. Favoral adding to this a few five-franc pieces, 
 Maxence declared himself entirely satisfied. 
 
 Unfortunately, with his lively imagination and his 
 impetuous temper, no one was less fit than himself for 
 that peaceful existence, that steady toil, the same each 
 day, without the stimulus of difficulties to overcome, or 
 the satisfaction of results obtained. 
 
 Before long he became tired of it. 
 
 He had found at the law-school a number of his old 
 schoolmates whose parents resided in the provinces, 
 and who, consequently, lived as they pleased in the 
 Latin quarter, less assiduous to the lectures than to the 
 Spring Brewery and the Closerie des Lilas.* 
 
 He envied them their joyous life, their freedom with- 
 out control, their facile pleasures, their furnished rooms, 
 * A noted dancing-garden.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 63 
 
 and even the low eating-house where they took their 
 meals. And, as much as possible, he lived with them 
 and like them. 
 
 But it is not with M. Chapelain's twenty francs that it 
 would have been possible for him to keep up with fel- 
 lows, who, with superb recklessness, took on credit every 
 thing they could get, reserving the amount of their al- 
 lowance for those amusements which had to be paid for 
 in cash. 
 
 But was not Mme. Favoral here? 
 
 She had worked so much, the poor woman, especially 
 since Mile. Gilberte had become almost a young lady; 
 she had so much saved, so much stinted, that her re- 
 serve, notwithstanding repeated drafts, amounted to a 
 good round sum. 
 
 When Maxence wanted two or three napoleons, he 
 had but a word to say ; and he said it often. Thus, after 
 a while, he became an excellent billiard-player ; he kept 
 his colored meerschaum in the rack of a popular brew- 
 ery ; he took absinthe before dinner, and spent his even- 
 ings in the laudable effort to ascertain how many mugs 
 of beer he could " put away." Gaining in audacity, 
 he danced at Bullier's, dined at Foyd's, and at last had 
 a mistress. 
 
 So much so, that one afternoon, M. Favoral having to 
 visit on business the other side of the water, found him- 
 self face to face with his son, who was coming along, a 
 cigar in his mouth, and having on his arm a young 
 lady, painted in superior style, and harnessed with a 
 toilet calculated to make the cab-horses rear. 
 
 He returned to the Rue St. Gilles in a state of inde- 
 scribable rage. 
 
 " A woman ! " he exclaimed in a tone of offended 
 modesty. " A woman ! he, my son ! "
 
 64 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And when that son made his appearance, looking 
 quite sheepish, his first impulse was to resort to his for- 
 mer mode of correction. 
 
 But Maxence was now over nineteen years of age. 
 
 At the sight of the uplifted cane, he became whiter 
 than his shirt; and, wrenching it from his father's 
 hands, he broke it across his knees, threw the pieces vio- 
 lently upon the floor, and sprang out of the house. 
 
 " He shall never again set his foot here ! " screamed 
 the cashier of the Mutual Credit, thrown beside himself 
 by an act of resistance which seemed to him unheard of. 
 " I banish him. Let his clothes be packed up, and taken 
 to some hotel : I never want to see him again." 
 
 For a long time Mme. Favoral and Gilberte fairly 
 dragged themselves at his feet, before he consented to 
 recall his determination. 
 
 " He will disgrace us all ! " he kept repeating, seeming 
 unable to understand that it was himself who had, as 
 it were, driven Maxence on to the fatal road which he 
 was pursuing, forgetting that the absurd severities of 
 the father prepared the way for the perilous indulgence 
 of the mother, unwilling to own that the head of a fam- 
 ily has other duties besides providing food and shelter 
 for his wife and children, and that a father has but little 
 right to complain who has not known how to make him- 
 self the friend and the adviser of his son. 
 
 At last, after the most violent recriminations, he for- 
 gave, in appearance at least. 
 
 But the scales had dropped from his eyes. He started 
 in quest of information, and discovered startling enor- 
 mities. 
 
 He heard from M. Chapelain that Maxence remained 
 whole weeks at a time without appearing at the office. 
 If he had not complained before, it was because he had
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 65 
 
 yielded to the urgent entreaties of Mme. Favoral; and 
 he was now glad, he added, of an opportunity to relieve 
 his conscience by a full confession. 
 
 Thus the cashier discovered, one by one, all his son's 
 tricks. He heard that he was almost unknown at the 
 law-school, that he spent his days in the cafes, and that, 
 in the evening, when he believed him in bed and asleep, 
 he was in fact running out to theatres and to balls. 
 
 "Ah! that's the way, is it?" he thought. "Ah, my 
 wife and children are in league against me, me, the 
 master. Very well, we'll see." 
 
 XI. 
 
 FROM that morning war was declared. 
 
 From that day commenced in the Rue St. Gilles one 
 of those domestic dramas which are still awaiting their 
 Moliere, a drama of distressing vulgarity and sicken- 
 ing realism, but poignant, nevertheless; for it brought 
 into action tears, blood, and a savage energy. 
 
 M. Favoral thought himself sure to win; for did he 
 not have the key of the cash, and is not the key of the 
 cash the most formidable weapon in an age where every 
 thing begins and ends with money ? 
 
 Nevertheless, he was filled with irritating anxieties. 
 
 He who had just discovered so many things which he 
 did not even suspect a few days before, he could not 
 discover the source whence his son drew the money 
 which flowed like water from his prodigal hands. 
 
 He had made sure that Maxence had no debts; and 
 yet it could not be with M. Chapelain's monthly twenty 
 francs that he fed his frolics. 
 
 Mme. Favoral and Gilberte, subjected separately to
 
 66 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 a skilful interrogatory, had managed to keep inviolate 
 the secret of their mercenary labor. The servant, 
 shrewdly questioned, had said nothing that could in 
 any way cause the truth to be suspected. 
 
 Here was, then, a mystery ; and M. Favoral's constant 
 anxiety could be read upon his knitted brows during 
 his brief visits to the house ; that is, during dinner. 
 
 From the manner in which he tasted his soup, it was 
 easy to see that he was asking himself whether that was 
 real soup, and whether he was not being imposed upon. 
 From the expression of his eyes, it was easy to guess 
 this question constantly present to his mind : 
 
 " They are robbing me evidently ; but how do they 
 doit?" 
 
 And he became distrustful, fussy, and suspicious, to 
 an extent that he had never been before. It was with 
 the most insulting precautions that he examined every 
 Sunday his wife's accounts. He took a book at the gro- 
 cer's, and settled it himself every month: he had the 
 butcher's bills sent to him in duplicate. He would in- 
 quire the price of an apple as he peeled it over his plate, 
 and never failed to stop at the fruiterer's and ascertain 
 that he had not been deceived. 
 
 But it was all in vain. 
 
 And yet he knew that Maxence always had in his 
 pocket two or three five-franc pieces. 
 
 " Where do you steal them ? " he asked him one day. 
 
 " I save them out of my salary," boldly answered the 
 young man. 
 
 Exasperated, M. Favoral wished to make the whole 
 world take an interest in his investigations. And one 
 Saturday evening, as he was talking with his friends, 
 M. Chapelain, the worthy Desclavettes, and old man 
 Desormeaux, pointing to his wife and daughter,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 67 
 
 " Those d d women rob me/' he said, " for the bene- 
 fit of my son ; and they do it so cleverly that I can't find 
 out how. They have an understanding with the shop- 
 keepers, who are but licensed thieves; and nothing is 
 eaten here that they don't make me pay double its 
 value." 
 
 M. Chapelain made an ill-concealed grimace; whilst 
 M. Desclavettes sincerely admired a man who had cour- 
 age enough to confess his meanness. 
 
 But M. Desormeaux never minced things. 
 
 " Do you know, friend Vincent," he said, " that it 
 requires a strong stomach to take dinner with a man 
 who spends his time calculating the cost of every mouth- 
 ful that his guests swallow ? " 
 
 M. Favoral turned red in the face. 
 
 " It is not the expense that I deplore." he replied, 
 " but the duplicity. I am rich enough, thank Heaven ! 
 not to begrudge a few francs ; and I would gladly give 
 to my wife twice as much as she takes, if she would only 
 ask it frankly." 
 
 But that was a lesson. 
 
 Hereafter he was careful to dissimulate, and seemed 
 exclusively occupied in subjecting his son to a system of 
 his invention, the excessive rigor of which would have 
 upset a steadier one than he. 
 
 He demanded of him daily written attestations of his 
 .attendance both at the law-school and at the lawyer's 
 office. He marked out the itinerary of his walks for him, 
 and measured the time they required, within a few min- 
 utes. Immediately after dinner he shut him up in his 
 room, under lock and key, and never failed, when he 
 came home at ten o'clock to make sure of his presence. 
 
 He could not have taken steps better calculated to ex- 
 alt still more Mme. Favoral's blind tenderness.
 
 68 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 When she heard that Maxence had a mistress, she 
 had been rudely shocked in, her most cherished feelings. 
 It is never without a secret jealousy that a mother dis- 
 covers that a woman has robbed her of her son's heart. 
 She had retained a certain amount of spite against him 
 on account of disorders, which, in her candor, she had 
 never suspected. She forgave him every thing when 
 she saw of what treatment he was the object. 
 
 She took sides with him, believing him to be the vic- 
 tim of a most unjust persecution. In the evening, after 
 her husband had gone out, Gilberte and herself would 
 take their sewing, sit in the hall outside his room, and 
 converse with him through the door. Never had they 
 worked so hard for the shop-keeper in the Rue St. 
 Denis. Some weeks they earned as much as twenty- 
 five or thirty francs. 
 
 But Maxence's patience was exhausted; and one 
 morning he declared resolutely that he would no longer 
 attend the law-school, that he had been mistaken in his 
 vocation, and that there was no human power capable 
 to make him return to M. Chapelain's. 
 
 " And where will you go ? " exclaimed his father. 
 " Do you expect me eternally to supply your wants ? " 
 
 He answered that it was precisely in order to support 
 himself, and conquer his independence, that he had re- 
 solved to abandon a profession, which, after two years, 
 yielded him twenty francs a month. 
 
 " I want some business where I have a chance to get 
 rich," he replied. " I would like to enter a banking- 
 house, or some great financial establishment." 
 
 Mme. Favoral jumped at the idea. 
 
 "That's a fact," she said to her husband. "Why 
 couldn't you find a place for our son at the Mutual 
 Credit? There he would be under your own eyes. In-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 69 
 
 telligent as he is, backed by M. de Thaller and yourself, 
 he would soon earn a good salary." 
 
 M. Favoral knit his brows. 
 
 " That I shall never do," he uttered. " I have not 
 sufficient confidence in my son. I cannot expose my- 
 self to have him compromise the consideration which 
 I have acquired for myself." 
 
 And, revealing to a certain extent the secret of his 
 conduct, 
 
 " A cashier," he added, " who like me handles im- 
 mense sums cannot be too careful of his reputation. 
 Confidence is a delicate thing in these times, when there 
 are so many cashiers constantly on the road to Belgium. 
 Who knows what would be thought of me, if I was 
 known to have such a son as mine ? " 
 
 Mme. Favoral was insisting, nevertheless, when he 
 seemed to make up his mind suddenly. 
 
 " Enough," he said. " Maxence is free. I allow him 
 two years to establish himself in some position. That 
 delay over, good-by: he can find board and lodging 
 where he please. That's all. I don't want to hear any 
 thing more about it." 
 
 It was with a sort of frenzy that Maxence abused that 
 freedom ; and in less than two weeks he had dissipated 
 three months' earnings of his mother and sister. 
 
 That time over, he succeeded, thanks to M. Chapelain, 
 in finding a place with an architect. 
 
 This was not a very brilliant opening; and the 
 chances were, that he might remain a clerk all his life. 
 But the future did not trouble him much. For the pres- 
 ent, he was delighted with this inferior position, which 
 assured him each month one hundred and seventy-five 
 francs. 
 
 One hundred and seventy-five francs! A fortune.
 
 70 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And so he rushed into that life of questionable pleas- 
 ures, where so many wretches have left not only the 
 money which they had, which is nothing, but the money 
 which they had not, which leads straight to the police- 
 court. 
 
 He made friends with those shabby fellows who walk 
 up and down in front of the Cafe Riche, with an empty 
 stomach, and a tooth-pick between their teeth. He be- 
 came a regular customer at those low cafes of the Bou- 
 levards, where plastered girls smile to the men. He 
 frequented those suspicious table d'hotes where they 
 play baccarat after dinner on a wine-stained table-cloth, 
 and where the police make periodical raids. He ate 
 suppers in those night restaurants where people throw 
 the bottles at each other's heads after drinking their 
 contents. 
 
 Often he remained twenty-four hours without coming 
 to the Rue St. Gilles ; and then Mme. Favoral spent the 
 night in the most fearful anxiety. Then, suddenly, at 
 some hour when he knew his father to be absent, he 
 would appear, and, taking his mother to one side, 
 
 "I very much want a few louis," he would say in a 
 sheepish tone. 
 
 She gave them to him ; and she kept giving them so 
 long as she had any, not, however, without observing 
 timidly to him that Gilberte and herself could not earn 
 very much. 
 
 Until finally one evening, and to a last demand, 
 
 " Alas ! " she answered sorrowfully, " I have nothing 
 left, and it is only on Monday that we are to take our 
 work back. Couldn't you wait until then ? " 
 
 He could not wait : he was expected for a game. Blind 
 devotion begets ferocious egotism. He wanted his 
 mother to go out and borrow the money from the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 71 
 
 grocer or the butcher. She was hesitating. He spoke 
 louder. 
 
 Then Mile. Gilberte appeared. 
 
 " Have you, then, really no heart ? " she said. " It 
 seems to me, that, if I were a man, I would not ask my 
 mother and sister to work for me." 
 
 XII. 
 
 GILBERTE FAVORAL had just completed her eighteenth 
 year. Rather tall, slender, her every motion betrayed 
 the admirable proportions of her figure, and had that 
 grace which results from the harmonious blending of 
 litheness and strength. She did not strike at first sight ; 
 but soon a penetrating and indefinable charm arose from 
 her whole person; and one knew not which to admire 
 most, the exquisite perfections of her figure, the di- 
 vine roundness of her neck, her aerial carriage, or the 
 placid ingenuousness of her attitudes. She could not 
 be called beautiful, inasmuch as her features lacked 
 regularity; but the extreme mobility of her counte- 
 nance, upon which could be read all the emotions of her 
 soul, had an irresistible seduction. Her large eyes, of 
 velvety blue, had untold depths and an incredible in- 
 tensity of expression; the imperceptible quiver of her 
 rosy nostrils revealed an untamable pride ; and the smile 
 that played upon her lips told her immense contempt for 
 every thing mean and small. But her real beauty was 
 her hair, of a blonde so luminous that it seemed pow- 
 dered with diamond-dust ; so thick and so long, that to 
 be able to twist and confine it, she had to cut off heavy 
 locks of it to the very root. 
 
 Alone, in the house, she did not tremble at her father's 
 voice. The studied despotism which had subdued Mme.
 
 72 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Favoral had revolted her, and her energy had become 
 tempered under the same system of oppression which 
 had unnerved Maxence. 
 
 Whilst her mother and her brother lied with that quiet 
 impudence of the slave, whose sole weapon is duplicity, 
 Gilberte preserved a sullen silence. And if complicity 
 was imposed upon her by circumstances, if she had to 
 maintain a falsehood, each word cost her such a painful 
 effort, that her features became visibly altered. 
 
 Never, when her own interests were alone at stake, 
 had she stooped to an untruth. Fearlessly, and what- 
 ever might be the result, 
 
 " That is the fact," she would. say. 
 
 Accordingly, M. Favoral could not help respecting 
 her to a degree; and, when he was in fine humor, he 
 called her the Empress Gilberte. For her alone he had 
 some deference and some attentions. He moderated, 
 when she looked at him, the brutality of his language. 
 He brought her a few flowers every Saturday. 
 
 He had even allowed her a professor of music ; though 
 he was wont to declare that a woman needs but two ac- 
 complishments, to cook and to sew. But she had in- 
 sisted so much, that he had at last discovered for her, in 
 an attic of the Rue du Pas-de-la-Mule, an old Italian 
 master, the Signer Gismondo Pulei, a sort of unknown 
 genius, for whom thirty francs a month were a fortune, 
 and who conceived a sort of religious fanaticism for his 
 pupil. 
 
 Though he had always refused to write a note, he con- 
 sented, for her sake, to fix the melodies that buzzed in 
 his cracked brain; and some of them proved to be ad- 
 mirable. He dreamed to compose for her an opera that 
 would transmit to the most remote generations the name 
 of Gismondo Pulei.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 73 
 
 " The Signora Gilberte is the very goddess of music," 
 he said to M. Favoral, with transports of enthusiasm, 
 which intensified still his frightful accent. 
 
 The cashier of the Mutual Credit Society shrugged 
 his shoulders, answering that there is no harmony for a 
 man who spends his days listening to the exciting music 
 of golden coins. In spite of which his vanity seemed 
 highly gratified, when on Saturday evenings, after din- 
 ner, Mile. Gilberte sat at the piano, and Mme. Des- 
 clavettes, suppressing a yawn, would exclaim, 
 
 " What remarkable talent the dear child has ! " 
 
 The young girl had, then, a positive influence ; and it 
 was to her entreaties alone, and not to those of his wife, 
 that he had several times forgiven Maxence. He would 
 have done much more for her, had she wished it; but 
 she would have been compelled to ask, to insist, to beg. 
 
 " And it's humiliating," she used to say. 
 
 Sometimes Mme. Favoral scolded her gently, saying 
 that her father would certainly not refuse her one of 
 those pretty toilets which are the ambition and the joy 
 of young girls. 
 
 But she, 
 
 " It is much less mortification to me to wear these 
 rags than to meet with a refusal," she replied. " I am 
 satisfied with my dresses." 
 
 With such a character, surrounded, however, by a 
 meek resignation, and an unalterable sang-froid, she 
 inspired a certain respect to both her mother and her 
 brother, who admired in her an energy of which they 
 felt themselves incapable. 
 
 And when she appeared, and commenced reproaching 
 him in an indignant tone of voice, with the baseness 
 of his conduct, and his insatiate demands, Maxence was 
 almost stunned.
 
 74 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " I did not know," he commenced, turning as red as 
 fire. 
 
 She crushed him with a look of mingled contempt and 
 pity ; and, in an accent of haughty irony, 
 
 " Indeed," she said, " you do not know whence the 
 money comes that you extort from our mother ! " 
 
 And holding up her hand, still remarkably handsome, 
 though slightly deformed by the constant handling of 
 the needle; the fourth finger of the right hand bent by 
 the thread, and the fore-finger of the left tattooed and 
 lacerated by the needle, 
 
 " Indeed," she repeated, " you do not know that my 
 mother and myself, we spend all our days, and the 
 greater part of our nights, working ? " 
 
 Hanging his head, he said nothing. 
 
 " If it were for myself alone," she continued, " I 
 would not speak to you thus. But look at our mother ! 
 See her poor eyes, red and weak from her ceaseless 
 labor! If I have said nothing until now, it is be- 
 cause I did not as yet despair of your heart; be- 
 cause I hoped that you would recover some feeling of 
 decency. But no, nothing. With time, your last scruples 
 seem to have vanished. Once you begged humbly ; now 
 you demand rudely. How soon will you resort to 
 blows?" 
 
 " Gilberte ! " stammered the poor fellow, " Gilberte ! " 
 
 She interrupted him, 
 
 " Money ! " she went on, " always, and without time, 
 you must have money ; no matter whence it comes, nor 
 what it costs. If, at least, you had, to justify your ex- 
 penses, the excuse of some great passion, or of some 
 object, were it absurd, ardently pursued! But I defy 
 you to confess upon what degrading pleasures you lav- 
 ish our humble economies. I defy you to tell us what
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 75 
 
 you mean to do with the sum that you demand to-night, 
 that sum for which you would have our mother stoop 
 to beg the assistance of a shop-keeper, to whom we 
 would be compelled to reveal the secret of our shame." 
 
 Touched by the frightful humiliation of her son, 
 
 " He is so unhappy ! " stammered Mme. Favoral. 
 
 " He unhappy ! " she exclaimed. " What, then, shall 
 we say of us ? and, above all, what shall you say of your- 
 self, mother? Unhappy! he, a man, who has liberty 
 and strength, who may undertake every thing, attempt 
 any thing, dare any thing. Ah, I wish I were a man! 
 I ! I would be a man as there are some, as I know some ; 
 and I would have avenged you, O beloved mother ! long, 
 long ago, from father ; and I would have begun to repay 
 you all the good you have done me." 
 
 Mme. Favoral was sobbing. 
 
 " I beg of you," she murmured, " spare him." 
 
 " Be it so," said the young girl. " But you must al- 
 low me to tell him that it is not for his sake that I devote 
 my youth to a mercenary labor. It is for you, adored 
 mother, that you may have the joy to give him what 
 he asks, since it is your only joy.'' 
 
 Maxence shuddered under the breath of that superb 
 indignation. That frightful humiliation, he felt that he 
 deserved it only too much. He understood the justice of 
 these cruel reproaches. And, as his heart had not yet 
 spoiled with the contact of his boon companions, as he 
 was weak, rather than wicked, as the sentiments which 
 are the honor and pride of a man were not dead within 
 him, 
 
 " Ah ! you are a brave sister, Gilberte," he exclaimed ; 
 " and what you have just done is well. You have been 
 harsh, but not as much as I deserve. Thanks for your 
 courage, which will give me back mine. Yes, it is a
 
 76 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 shame for me to have thus cowardly abused you 
 both." 
 
 And, raising his mother's hand to his lips, 
 
 " Forgive, mother," he continued, his eyes overflow- 
 ing with tears, " forgive him who swears to you to re- 
 deem his past, and to become your support, instead of 
 being a crushing burden " 
 
 He was interrupted by the noise of steps on the stairs, 
 and the shrill sound of a whistle. 
 
 " My husband ! " exclaimed Mme. Favoral, " your 
 father, my children ! " 
 
 " Well," said Mile. Gilberte coldly. 
 
 " Don't you hear that he is whistling? and do you for- 
 get that it is a proof that he is furious? What new 
 trial threatens us again?" 
 
 XIII. 
 
 MME. FAVORAL spoke from experience. She had 
 learned, to her cost, that the whistle of her husband, 
 more surely than the shriek of the stormy petrel, an- 
 nounces the storm. And she had that evening more 
 reasons than usual to fear. Breaking from all his hab- 
 its, M. Favoral had not come home to dinner, and had 
 sent one of the clerks of the Mutual Credit Society to say 
 that they should not wait for him. 
 
 Soon his latch-key grated in the lock ; the door swung 
 open ; he came in ; and, seeing his son, 
 
 " Well, I am glad to find you here," he exclaimed with 
 a giggle, which with him was the utmost expression 
 of anger. 
 
 Mme. Favoral shuddered. Still under the impression 
 of the scene which had just taken place, his heart heavy, 
 and his eyes full of tears, Maxence did not answer.
 
 77 
 
 " It is doubtless a wager," resumed the father, " and 
 you wish to know how far my patience may go." 
 
 " I do not understand you," stammered the young 
 man. 
 
 " The money that you used to get, I know not where, 
 doubtless fails you now, or at least is no longer suffi- 
 cient, and you go on making debts right and left, at 
 the tailor's, the shirt maker's, the jeweller's. Of course, 
 it's simple enough. We earn nothing; but we wish to 
 dress in the latest style, to wear a gold chain across our 
 vest, and then we make dupes/' 
 
 " I have never made any dupes, father." 
 
 " Bah ! And what, then, do you call all these people 
 who came this very day to present me their bills ? For 
 they did dare to come to my office ! They had agreed to 
 come together, expecting thus to intimidate me more 
 easily. I told them that you were of age, and that your 
 business was none of mine. Hearing this, they became 
 insolent, and commenced speaking so loud, that their 
 voices could be heard in the adjoining rooms. At that 
 very moment, the manager, M. de Thaller, happened to 
 be passing through the hall. Hearing the noise of a 
 discussion, he thought that I was having some difficulty 
 with some of our stockholders, and he came in, as he 
 had a right to. Then I was compelled to confess every 
 thing." 
 
 He became excited at the sound of his words, like a 
 horse at the jingle of his bells. And, more and more 
 beside himself, 
 
 " That is just what your creditors wished," he pur- 
 sued. " They thought I would be afraid of a row, and 
 that I would ' come down.' It is a system of blackmail- 
 ing, like any other. An account is opened to some young 
 rascal ; and, when the amount is reasonably large, the} r
 
 78 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 take it to the family, saying, ' Money, or I make row/ 
 Do you think it is to you, who are penniless, that they 
 give credit ? It's on my pocket that they were drawing, 
 on my pocket, because they believed me rich. They 
 sold you at exorbitant prices every thing they wished; 
 and they relied on me to pay for trousers at ninety 
 francs, shirts at forty francs, and watches at six hundred 
 francs." 
 
 Contrary to his habit, Maxence did not offer any de- 
 nial. 
 
 " I expect to pay all I owe," he said. 
 
 "You!" 
 
 " I give my word I will ! " 
 
 "And with what, pray?" 
 
 " With my salary." 
 
 " You have a salary, then ? " 
 
 Maxence blushed. 
 
 " I have what I earn at my employer's." 
 
 " What employer ? " 
 
 : ' The architect in whose office M. Chapelain helped 
 me to find a place." 
 
 With a threatening gesture, M. Favoral interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " Spare me your lies," he uttered. " I am better 
 posted than you suppose. I know, that, over a month 
 ago, your employer, tired of your idleness, dismissed 
 you in disgrace." 
 
 Disgrace was superfluous. The fact was, that Max- 
 ence, returning to work after an absence of five days, 
 had found another in his place. 
 
 " I shall find another place," he said. 
 
 M. Favoral shrugged his shoulders with a movement 
 of rage.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 79 
 
 " And in the mean time," he said, " I shall have to 
 pay. Do you know what your creditors threaten to do ? 
 to commence a suit against me. They would lose it, of 
 course, they know it; but they hope that I would yield 
 before a scandal. And this is not all : they talk of en- 
 tering a criminal complaint. They pretend that you 
 have audaciously swindled them; that the articles you 
 purchased of them were not at all for your own use, but 
 that you sold them as fast as you got them, at any price 
 you could obtain, to raise ready money. The jeweller has 
 proofs, he says, that you went straight from his shop 
 to the pawnbroker's, and pledged a watch and chain 
 which he had just sold you. It is a police matter. They 
 said all that in presence of my superior officer, in pres- 
 ence of M. de Thaller. I had to get the janitor to put 
 them out. But, after they had left, M. de Thaller gave 
 me to understand that he wished me very much to settle 
 every thing. And he is right. My consideration could 
 not resist another such scene. What confidence can be 
 placed in a cashier whose son behaves in this manner? 
 How can a key of a safe containing millions be left 
 with a man whose son would have been dragged 
 into the police-courts ? In a word, I am at your mercy. 
 In a word, my honor, my position, my fortune, rest upon 
 you. As often as it may please you to make 
 debts, you can make them, and I shall be compelled 
 to pay." 
 
 Gathering all his courage, 
 
 " You have been sometimes very harsh with me, 
 father," commenced Maxence ; " and yet I will not try 
 to justify my conduct. I swear to you, that hereafter 
 you shall have nothing to fear from me." 
 
 " I fear nothing/' uttered M. Favoral with a sinister
 
 So OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 smile. " I know the means of placing myself beyond 
 the reach of your follies ; and I shall use them." 
 
 " I assure you, father, that I have taken a firm resolu- 
 tion." 
 
 " Oh ! you may dispense with your periodical repent- 
 ance." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte stepped forward. 
 
 " I'll stand warrant," she said, " for Maxence's res- 
 olutions." 
 
 Her father did not permit her to proceed. 
 
 " Enough," he interrupted somewhat harshly. " Mind 
 your own business, Gilberte! I have to speak to you 
 too." 
 
 " To me, father." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He walked up and down three or four times through 
 the parlor, as if to calm his irritation. Then planting 
 himself straight before his daughter, his arms folded 
 across his breast, 
 
 " You are eighteen years of age," he said ; " that is to 
 say, it is time to think of your marriage. An excellent 
 match offers itself." 
 
 She shuddered, stepped back, and, redder than a 
 peony, 
 
 " A match ! " she repeated in a tone of immense sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes, and which suits me." 
 
 " But I do not wish to marry, father." 
 
 " All young girls say the same thing ; and, as soon as 
 a pretender offers himself, they are delighted. Mine 
 is a fellow of twenty-six, quite good looking, amiable, 
 witty, and who has had the greatest success in society." 
 
 " Father, I assure you that I do not wish to leave 
 mother."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 81 
 
 " Of course not. He is an intelligent, hard-working 
 man, destined, everybody says, to make an immense for- 
 tune. Although he is rich already, for he holds a con- 
 trolling interest in a stock-broker's firm, he works as 
 hard as any poor devil. I would not be surprised to hear 
 that he makes half a million of francs a year. His wife 
 will have her carriage, her box at the opera, diamonds, 
 and dresses as handsome as Mme. de Thaller's." 
 
 " Eh ! What do I care for such things ? " 
 
 " It's understood. I'll present him to you on Satur- 
 day." 
 
 But Mile. Gilberte was not one of those young girls 
 who allow themselves, through weakness or timidity, to 
 become engaged, and so far engaged, that later, they can 
 no longer withdraw. A discussion being unavoidable, 
 she preferred to have it out at once. 
 
 " A presentation is absolutely useless, father," she de- 
 clared resolutely. 
 
 "Because?"' 
 
 " I have told you that I did not wish to marry.'* 
 
 "But if it is my will?" 
 
 " I am ready to obey you in every thing except that." 
 
 " In that as in every thing else," interrupted the 
 cashier of the Mutual Credit in a thundering voice. 
 
 And, casting upon his wife and children a glance full 
 of defiance and threats, 
 
 " In that, as in every thing else," he repeated, " be- 
 cause I am the master ; and I shall prove it. Yes, I will 
 prove it ; for I am tired to see my family leagued against 
 my authority." 
 
 And out he went, slamming the door so violently, that 
 the partitions shook. 
 
 " You are wrong to resist your father thus," mur- 
 mured the weak Mme. Favoral,
 
 82 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 The fact is, that the poor woman could not under- 
 stand why her daughter refused the only means at her 
 command to break off with her miserable existence. 
 
 " Let him present you this young man/' she said. 
 " You might like him." 
 
 " I am sure I shall not like him." 
 
 She said this in such a tone, that the light suddenly 
 flashed upon Mme. Favoral's mind. 
 
 " Heavens ! " she murmured. " Gilberte, my darling 
 child, have you then a secret which your mother does 
 not know?" 
 
 XIV. 
 
 YES, Mile. Gilberte had her secret, a very simple 
 one, though, chaste, like herself, and one of those which, 
 as the old women say, must cause the angels to rejoice. 
 
 The spring of that year having been unusually mild. 
 Mme. Favoral and her daughter had taken the habit of 
 going daily to bieathe the fresh air in the Place Royale. 
 They took their work with them, crotchet or knitting; 
 so that this salutary exercise did not in any way diminish 
 the earnings of the week. It was during these walks 
 that Mile. Gilberte had at last noticed a young man, un- 
 known to her, whom she met every day at the same 
 place. 
 
 Tall and robust, he had a grand look, notwithstanding 
 his modest clothes, the exquisite neatness of which be- 
 trayed a sort of respectable poverty. He wore his full 
 beard; and his proud and intelligent features were 
 lighted up by a pair of large black eyes, of those eyes 
 whose straight and clear look disconcerts hypocrites and 
 knaves. 
 
 He never failed, as he passed by Mile. Gilberte, to
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 83 
 
 look down, or turn his head slightly away ; and in spite 
 of this, in spite of the expression of respect which she 
 had detected upon his face, she could not help blushing. 
 
 " Which is absurd," she thought ; " for after all, what 
 on earth do I care for that young man ? " 
 
 The infallible instinct, which is the experience of in- 
 experienced young girls, told her that it was not chance 
 alone that brought this stranger in her way. But she 
 wished to make sure of it. She managed so well, that 
 each day of the following week, the hour of their walk 
 was changed. Sometimes they went out at noon, some- 
 times after four o'clock. 
 
 But, whatever the hour, Mile. Gilberte, as she turned 
 the corner of the Rue des Minimes, noticed her un- 
 known admirer under the arcades, looking in some shop- 
 window, and watching out of the corner of his eye. As 
 soon as she appeared, he left his post, and hurried fast 
 enough to meet her at the gate of the Place. 
 
 " It is a persecution,*' thought Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 How, then, had she not spoken of it to her mother? 
 Why had she not said any thing to her the day, when, 
 happening, to look out of the window, she saw her 
 " persecutor " passing before the house, or evidently 
 looking in her direction? 
 
 " Am I losing my mind ? " she thought, seriously ir- 
 ritated against herself. " I will not think of him any 
 more." 
 
 And yet she was thinking of him, when one after- 
 noon, as her mother and herself were working, sitting 
 upon a bench, she saw the stranger come and sit down 
 not far from them. He was accompanied by an elderly 
 man with long white mustaches, and wearing the rosette 
 of the Legion of Honor. 
 
 " This is an insolence," thought the young girl, whilst
 
 84 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONE 
 
 seeking a pretext to ask her mother to change their 
 seats. 
 
 But already had the young man and his elderly friend 
 seated themselves, and so arranged their chairs, that 
 Mile. Gilberte could not miss a word of what they were 
 about to say. It was the young man who spoke first. 
 
 " You know me as well as I know myself, my dear 
 count," he commenced, " you who were my poor 
 father's best friend, you who dandled me upon your 
 knees when I was a child, and who has never lost sight of 
 me." 
 
 " Which is to say, my boy, that I answer for you as 
 for myself," put in the old man. " But go on.'' 
 
 " I am twenty-six years old. My name is Yves- 
 Marius-Genost de Tregars. My family, which is one of 
 the oldest of Brittany, is allied to all the great families." 
 
 " Perfectly exact," remarked the old gentleman. 
 
 " Unfortunately, my fortune is not on a par with my 
 nobility. When my mother died, in 1856, my father, 
 who worshipped her, could no longer bear, in the inten- 
 sity of his grief, to remain at the Chateau de Tregars 
 where he had spent his whole life. He came to Paris, 
 which he could well afford., since we were rich then, but 
 unfortunately, made acquaintances who soon inoculated 
 him with the fever of the age. They proved to him that 
 he was mad to keep lands which barely yielded him forty 
 thousand francs a year, and which he could easily sell 
 for two millions ; which amount, invested merely at five 
 per cent, would yield him an income of one hundred 
 thousand francs. He therefore sold every thing, except 
 our patrimonial homestead on the road from Quimper 
 to Audierne, and rushed into speculations. He was 
 rather lucky at first. But he was too honest and too 
 loyal to be lucky long. An operation in which he be-
 
 But already had the young man and his elderly friend seated 
 themselves and so arranged their chairs that Mile. Gilberte 
 could not miss a word of what they were about to say.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 85 
 
 came interested early in 1869 turned out badly. His as- 
 sociates became rich; but he, I know not how, was 
 ruined, and came near being compromised. He died of 
 grief a month later." 
 
 The old soldier was nodding his assent. 
 
 " Very well, my boy," he said. " But you are too 
 modest; and there's a circumstance which you neglect. 
 You had a right, when your father became involved in 
 these troubles, to claim and retain your mother's for- 
 tune; that is, some thirty thousand francs a year. Not 
 only you did not do so ; but you gave up every thing to 
 his creditors. You sold the domain of Tregars, except 
 the old castle and its park, and paid over the proceeds 
 to them ; so that, if your father did die ruined, at least 
 he did not owe a cent. And yet you knew, as well as 
 myself, that your father had been deceived and swindled 
 by a lot of scoundrels who drive their carriages now, 
 and who, perhaps, if the courts were applied to, might 
 still be made to disgorge their ill-gotten plunder." 
 
 Her head bent upon her tapestry, Mile. Gilberte 
 seemed to be working with incomparable zeal. The truth 
 is, she knew not how to conceal the blushes on her 
 cheeks, and the trembling of her hands. She had some- 
 thing like a cloud before her eyes; and she drove her 
 needle at random. She scarcely preserved enough pres- 
 ence of mind to reply to Mme. Favoral, who, not notic- 
 ing any thing, spoke to her from time to time. 
 
 Indeed, the meaning of this scene was too clear to 
 escape her. 
 
 " They have had an understanding," she thought, 
 " and it is for me alone that they are speaking." 
 
 Meantime, Marius de Tregars was going on, 
 
 " I should lie, my old friend, were I to say that I was 
 indifferent to our ruin. Philosopher though one may
 
 86 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 be, it is not without some pangs that one passes from 
 a sumptuous hotel to a gloomy garret. But what 
 grieved me most of all was that I saw myself compelled 
 to give up the labors which had been the joy of my life, 
 and upon which I had founded the most magnificent 
 hopes. A positive vocation, stimulated further by the 
 accidents of my education, had led me to the study of 
 physical sciences. For several years, I had applied all 
 I have of intelligence and energy to certain investiga- 
 tions in electricity. To convert electricity into an in- 
 comparable motive-power which would supersede steam, 
 such was the object I pursued without pause. Al- 
 ready, as you know, although quite young, I had ob- 
 tained results which had attracted some attention in the 
 scientific world. I thought I could see the last of a prob- 
 lem, the solution of which would change the face of the 
 globe. Ruin was the death of my hopes, the total loss of 
 the fruits of my labors ; for my experiments were costly, 
 and it required money, much money, to purchase the" 
 products which were indispensable to me, and to con- 
 struct the machines which I contrived. 
 
 " And I was about being compelled to earn my daily 
 bread. 
 
 " I was on the verge of despair, when I met a man 
 whom I had formerly seen at my father's, and who 
 had seemed to take some interest in my researches, a 
 speculator named Marcolet. But it is not at the bourse 
 that he operates. Industry is the field of his labors. 
 Ever on the lookout for those obstinate inventors who 
 are starving to death in their garrets, he appears to them 
 at the hour of supreme crisis : he pities them, encourages 
 them, consoles them, helps them, and almost always suc- 
 ceeds in becoming the owner of their discovery. Some-
 
 times he makes a mistake ; and then all he has to do is to 
 put a few thousand francs to the debit of profit or loss. 
 But, if he has judged right, then he counts his profits 
 by hundreds of thousands ; and how many patents does 
 he work thus! Of how many inventions does he reap 
 the results which are a fortune, and the inventors of 
 which have no shoes to wear ! Every thing is good to 
 him; and he defends with the same avidity a cough- 
 sirup, the formula of which he has purchased of some 
 poor devil of a druggist, and an improvement to the 
 steam-engine, the patent for which has been sold to him 
 by an engineer of genius. And yet Marcolet is not 
 a bad man. Seeing my situation, he offered me. a cer- 
 tain yearly sum to undertake some studies of indus- 
 trial chemistry which he indicated to me. I accepted; 
 and the very next day I hired a small basement in the 
 Rue des Tournelles, where I set up my laboratory, and 
 went to work at once. That was a year ago. Marcolet 
 must be satisfied. I have already found for him a new 
 shade for dyeing silk, the cost price of which is almost 
 nothing. As to me, I have lived with the strictest econo- 
 my, devoting all my surplus earnings to the prosecution 
 of the problem, the solution of which would give me 
 both glory and fortune." 
 
 Palpitating with inexpressible emotion, Mile. Gilberte 
 was listening to this young man, unknown to her a few 
 moments since, and whose whole history she now knew 
 as well as if she had always lived near him ; for it never 
 occurred to her to suspect his sincerity. 
 
 No voice had ever vibrated to her ear like this voice, 
 whose grave sonorousness stirred within her strange 
 sensations, and legions of thoughts which she had never 
 suspected. She was surprised at the accent of sim-
 
 88 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 plicity with which he spoke of the illustriousness of his 
 family, of his past opulence, of his obscure labors, and 
 of his exalted hopes. 
 
 She admired the superb disregard for money which 
 beamed forth in his every word. Here was then one 
 man, at least, who despised that money before which 
 she had hitherto seen all the people she knew prostrated 
 in abject worship. 
 
 After a pause of a few moments, Marius de Tregars, 
 still addressing himself apparently to his aged com- 
 panion, went on, 
 
 " I repeat it, because it is the truth, my old friend, 
 this life of labor and privation, so new to me, was not 
 a burden. Calm, silence, the constant exercise of all the 
 faculties of the intellect, have charms which the vulgar 
 can never suspect. I was happy to think, that, if I was 
 ruined, it was through an act of my own will. I found 
 a positive pleasure in the fact that I, the Marquis de 
 Tregars, who had had a hundred thousand a year, I 
 must the next moment go out in person to the baker's 
 and the green-grocer's to purchase my supplies for the 
 day. I was proud to think that it was to my labor alone, 
 to the work for which I was paid by Marcolet, that I 
 owed the means of prosecuting my task. And, from the 
 summits where I was carried on the wings of science, 
 I took pity on your modern existence, on that ridiculous 
 and tragical medley of passions, interests, and cravings; 
 that struggle without truce or mercy, whose law is, woe 
 to the weak, in which whosoever falls is trampled under 
 feet. 
 
 " Sometimes, however, like a fire that has been smoul- 
 dering under the ashes, the flame of youthful passions 
 blazed up within me. I had hours of madness, of dis- 
 couragement, of distress, during which solitude was
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 89 
 
 loathsome to me. But I had the faith which raises 
 mountains, faith in myself and my work. And soon, 
 tranquilized, I would go to sleep in the purple of hope, 
 beholding in the vista of the distant future the triumphal 
 arches erected to my success. 
 
 " Such was my situation, when, one afternoon in 
 the month of February last, after an experiment upon 
 which I had founded great hopes, and which had just 
 miserably failed, I came here to breathe a little fresh air. 
 
 " It was a beautiful spring day, warm and sunny. 
 The sparrows were chirping on the branches, swelled 
 with sap : bands of children were running along the al- 
 leys, filling the air with their joyous screams. 
 
 " I was sitting upon a bench, ruminating over the 
 causes of my failure, when two ladies passed by me ; one 
 somewhat aged, the other quite young. They were 
 walking so rapidly, that I hardly had time to see them. 
 
 " But the young lady's step, the noble simplicity of her 
 carriage, had struck me so much, that I rose to follow 
 her with the intention of passing her, and then walking 
 back to have a good view of her face. I did so ; and I 
 was fairly dazzled. At the moment when my eyes met 
 hers, a voice rose within me, crying that it was all over 
 now, and that my destiny was fixed." 
 
 " I remember, my dear boy," remarked the old sol- 
 dier in a tone of friendly raillery ; " for you came to see 
 me that night, and I had not seen you for months be- 
 fore." 
 
 Marius proceeded without heeding the remark. 
 
 " And yet you know that I am not the man to yield to 
 a first impression. I struggled: with determined en- 
 ergy I strove to drive off that radiant image which I 
 carried within my soul, which left me no more, which 
 haunted me in the midst of my studies.
 
 90 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Vain efforts. My thoughts obeyed me no longer : 
 my will escaped my control. It was indeed one of those 
 passions that fill the whole being, overpower all, and 
 which make of life an ineffable felicity or a nameless tor- 
 ture, according that they are reciprocated, or not. How 
 many days I spent there, waiting and watching for her 
 of whom I had thus had a glimpse, and who ignored my 
 very existence! And what insane palpitations, when, 
 after hours of consuming anxiety, I saw at the corner of 
 the street the undulating folds of her dress ! I saw her 
 thus often, and always with the same elderly person, her 
 mother. They had adopted in this square a particular 
 bench, where they sat daily, working at their sewing 
 with an assiduity and zeal which made me think that 
 they lived upon the product of their labor." 
 
 Here he was suddenly interrupted by his companion. 
 The old gentleman feared that Mme. Favoral's attention 
 might at last be attracted by too direct allusions. 
 
 " Take care, boy ! " he whispered, not so low, how- 
 ever, but what Gilberte overheard him. 
 
 But it would have required much more than this to 
 draw Mme. Favoral from her sad thoughts. She had 
 just finished her band of tapestry ; and, grieving to lose 
 a moment, 
 
 "It is perhaps time to go home," she said to her 
 daughter. " I have nothing more to do." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte drew from her basket a piece of canvas, 
 ^nd, handing it to her mother, 
 
 " Here is enough to go on with, mamma," she said 
 in a troubled voice. " Let us stay a little while longer." 
 
 And, Mme. Favoral having resumed her work, Ma- 
 rius proceeded, 
 
 " The thought that she whom I loved was poor de- 
 lighted me. Was not this similarity of positions a link
 
 91 
 
 between us? I felt a childish joy to think that I would 
 work for her and for her mother, and that they would 
 be indebted to me for their ease and comfort in life. 
 
 " But I am not one of those dreamers who confide 
 their destiny to the wings of a chimera. Before under- 
 taking any thing, I resolved to inform myself. Alas ! 
 at the first words that I heard, all my fine dreams took 
 wings. I heard that she was rich, very rich. I was 
 told that her father was one of those men whose rigid 
 probity surrounds itself with austere and harsh forms. 
 He owed his fortune, I was assured, to his sole labor, 
 but also to prodigies of economy and the most severe 
 privations. He professed a worship, they said, for that 
 gold that had cost him so much; and he would never 
 give the hand of his daughter to a man who had no 
 money. This last comment was useless. Above my ac- 
 tions, my thoughts, my hopes, higher than all, soars my 
 pride. Instantly I saw an abyss opening between me 
 and her whom I love more than my life, but less than 
 my dignity. When a man's name is Genost de Tregars, 
 he must support his wife, were it by breaking stones. 
 And the thought that I owed my fortune to the woman 
 I married would make me execrate her. 
 
 " You must remember, my old friend, that I told you 
 all this at the time. You thought, too, that it was singu- 
 larly impertinent, on my part, thus to flare up in advance, 
 because certainly a millionaire does not give his daugh- 
 ter to a ruined nobleman in the pay of Marcolet, the 
 patent-broker, to a poor devil of an inventor, who is 
 building the castles of his future upon the solution of a 
 problem which has been given up by the most brilliant 
 minds. 
 
 " It was then that I determined upon an extreme res- 
 olution, a foolish one, no doubt, and yet to which you,
 
 92 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the Count de Villegre, my father's old friend, you have 
 consented to lend yourself. 
 
 " I thought that I would address myself to her, to her 
 alone, and that she would at least know what great, what 
 immense love she had inspired. I thought I would go to 
 her and tell her, ' This is who I am, and what I am. 
 For mercy's sake, grant me a respite of three years. 
 To a love such as mine there is nothing impossible. In 
 three years I shall be dead, or rich enough to ask your 
 hand. From this day forth, I give up my task for work 
 of more immediate profit. The arts of industry have 
 treasures for successful inventors. If you could only 
 read in my soul, you would not refuse me the delay I am 
 asking. Forgive me ! One word, for mercy's sake, only 
 one ! It is my sentence that I am awaiting.' " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte's thoughts were in too great a state of 
 confusion to permit her to think of being offended at 
 this extraordinary proceeding. 
 
 She rose, quivering, and addressing herself to Mme. 
 Favoral, 
 
 " Come, mother," she said, " come : I feel that I have 
 taken cold. I must go home and think. To-morrow, 
 yes, to-morrow, we will come again." 
 
 Deep as Mme. Favoral was plunged in her medita- 
 tions-, and a thousand miles as she was from the actual 
 situation, it was impossible that she should not notice 
 the intense excitement under which her daughter la- 
 bored, the alteration of her features, and the incoher- 
 ence of her words. 
 
 " What is the matter? " she asked, somewhat alarmed. 
 " What are you saying? " 
 
 " I feel unwell," answered her daughter in a scarcely 
 audible voice, " quite unwell. Come, let us go home." 
 
 As soon as they reached home, Mile. Gilberte took
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 93 
 
 refuge in her own room. She was in haste to be alone, 
 to recover her self-possession, to collect her thoughts, 
 more scattered than dry leaves by a storm wind. 
 
 It was a momentous event which had just suddenly 
 fallen in her life so monotonous and so calm, an in- 
 conceivable, startling event, the consequences of which 
 were to weigh heavily upon her entire future. 
 
 Staggering still, she was asking herself if she was not 
 the victim of an hallucination, and if really there was 
 a man who had dared to conceive and execute the auda- 
 cious project of coming thus under the eyes of her 
 mother, of declaring his love, and of asking her in re- 
 turn a solemn engagement. But what stupefied her 
 more still, what confused her, was that she had actually 
 endured such an attempt. 
 
 Under what despotic influence had she, then, fallen? 
 To what undefmable sentiments had she obeyed ? And if 
 she had only tolerated ! But she had done more : she had 
 actually encouraged. By detaining her mother when 
 she wished to go home (and she had detained her), had 
 she not said to this unknown ? 
 
 " Go on, I allow it : I am listening." 
 
 And he had gone on. And she, at the moment of re- 
 turning home, she had engaged herself formally to re- 
 flect, and to return the next day at a stated hour to give 
 an answer. In a word, she had made an appointment 
 with him. 
 
 It was enough to make her die of shame. And, as 
 if she had needed the sound of her own words to con- 
 vince herself of the reality of the fact, she kept repeating 
 loud, 
 
 " I have made an appointment, I, Gilberte, with a 
 man whom my parents do not know, and of whose name 
 I was still ignorant yesterday."
 
 94 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And yet she could not take upon herself to be indig- 
 nant at the imprudent boldness of her conduct. The 
 bitterness of the reproaches which she was addressing to 
 herself was not sincere. She felt it so well, that at 
 last, 
 
 " Such hypocrisy is unworthy of me." she exclaimed, 
 " since now, still, and without the excuse of being taken 
 by surprise, I would not act otherwise." 
 
 The fact is, the more she pondered, the less she could 
 succeed in discovering even the shadow of any offensive 
 intention in all that Marius de Tregars had said. By 
 the choice of his confidant, an old man, a friend of his 
 family, a man of the highest respectability, he had done 
 all in his power to make his step excusable. It was im- 
 possible to doubt his sincerity, to suspect the fairness of 
 his intentions. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte, better than almost any other young 
 girl, could understand the extreme measure resorted to 
 by M. de Tregars. By her own pride she could under- 
 stand his. No more than he, in his place, would she 
 have been willing to expose herself to a certain refusal. 
 What was there, then, so extraordinary in the fact of his 
 coming directly to her, in his exposing to her frankly 
 and loyally his situation, his projects, and his hopes? 
 
 " Good heavens ! " she thought, horrified at the sen- 
 timents which she discovered in the deep recesses of her 
 soul, " good heavens ! I hardly know myself any more. 
 Here I am actually approving what he has done ! " 
 
 Well, yes, she did approve him, attracted, fascinated, 
 by the very strangeness of the situation. Nothing 
 seemed to her more admirable than the conduct of Ma- 
 rius de Tregars sacrificing: his fortune and his most le- 
 gitimate aspirations to the honor of his name, and con- 
 demning himself to work for his living.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 95 
 
 " That one," she thought, " is a man ; and his wife 
 will have just cause to be proud of him.'' 
 
 Involuntarily she compared him to the only men she 
 knew, to M. Favoral, whose miserly parsimony had 
 made his whole family wretched ; to Maxence, who did 
 not blush to feed his disorders with the fruits of his 
 mother's and his sister's labor. 
 
 How different was Marius ! If he was poor, it was of 
 his own will. Had she not seen what confidence he had 
 in himself. She shared it fully. She felt certain, that, 
 within the required delay, he would conquer that indis- 
 pensable fortune. Then he might present himself boldly. 
 He would take her away from the miserable surround- 
 ings among which she seemed fated to live: she would 
 become the Marchioness de Tregars. 
 
 " Why, then, not answer, Yes ! " thought she, with the 
 harrowing emotions of the gambler who is about to stake 
 his all upon one card. And what a game for Mile. Gil- 
 berte, and what a stake ! 
 
 Suppose she had been mistaken. Suppose that Ma- 
 rius should be one of those villains who make of seduc- 
 tion a science. Would she still be her own mistress, 
 after answering? Did she know to what hazards such 
 an engagement would expose her? Was she not about 
 rushing blindfolded towards those deceiving perils 
 where a young girl leaves her reputation, even when she 
 saves her honor ? 
 
 She thought, for a moment, of consulting her mother. 
 But she knew Mme. Favoral's shrinking timidity, and 
 that she was as incapable of giving any advice as to 
 make her will prevail. She would be frightened ; she 
 would approve all; and, at the first alarm, she would 
 confess all. 
 
 " Am I, then, so weak and so foolish," she thought,
 
 96 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " that I cannot take a determination which affects me 
 personally ? " 
 
 She could not close her eyes all night; but in the 
 morning her resolution was settled. 
 
 And toward one o'clock, 
 
 " Are we not going out mother ? " she said. 
 
 Mme. Favoral was hesitating. 
 
 " These early spring days are treacherous," she ob- 
 jected : " you caught cold yesterday." 
 
 " My dress was too thin. To-day I have taken my 
 precautions." 
 
 They started, taking their work with them, and came 
 to occupy their accustomed seats. 
 
 Before they had even passed the gates, Mile. Gilberte 
 had recognized Marius de Tregars and the Count de 
 Villegre, walking in one of the side alleys. Soon, as 
 on the day before, they took two chairs, and settled 
 themselves within hearing. 
 
 Never had the young girl's heart beat with such vio- 
 lence. It is easy enough to take a resolution ; but it is not 
 always quite so easy to execute it, and she was ask- 
 ing herself if she would have strength enough to ar- 
 ticulate a word. At last, gathering her whole cour- 
 age 
 
 " You don't believe in dreams, do you mother ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 Upon this subject, as well as upon many others, Mme. 
 Favoral had no particular opinion. 
 
 " Why do you ask the question ? " said she. 
 
 " Because I have had such a strange one." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " It seemed to me that suddenly a young man, whom 
 I did not know, stood before me. He would have been 
 most happy, said he to me, to ask my hand, but he dared
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 97 
 
 not, being very poor. And he begged me to wait three 
 years, during which he would make his fortune." 
 
 Mme. Favoral smiled. 
 
 " Why it's quite a romance," said she. 
 
 " But it wasn't a romance in my dream," interrupted 
 Mile. Gilberte. " This young man spoke in a tone of 
 such profound conviction, that it was impossible for me, 
 as it were, to doubt him. I thought to myself that he 
 would be incapable of such an odious villainy as to 
 abuse the confiding credulity of a poor girl." 
 
 " And what did you answer him ? " 
 
 Moving her seat almost imperceptibly, Mile. Gilberte 
 could, from the corner of her eye, have a glimpse of M. 
 de Tregars. Evidently he was not missing a single one 
 of the words which she was addressing to her mother. 
 He was whiter than a sheet; and his face betrayed the 
 most intense anxiety. 
 
 This gave her the energy to curb the last revolts of 
 her conscience. 
 
 " To answer was painful," she uttered ; " and yet I 
 dared to answer him. I said to him, ' I believe you, and 
 I have faith in you. Loyally and faithfully I shall await 
 your success ; but until then we must be strangers to one 
 another. To resort to ruse, deceit, and falsehood would 
 be unworthy of us. You surely would not expose to a 
 suspicion her who is to be your wife.' " 
 
 " Very well," approved Mme. Favoral ; " only I did 
 not know you were so romantic." 
 
 She was laughing, the good lady, but not loud enough 
 to prevent Gilberte from hearing M. de Tregar's an- 
 swer. 
 
 " Count de Villegre," said he, " my old friend, re- 
 ceive the oath which I take to devote my life to her who 
 has not doubted me. It is to-day the 4th of May, 1870:
 
 98 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 on the 4th of May, 1873, I shall have succeeded : I feel 
 it, I will it, it must be ! " 
 
 XV. 
 
 IT was done: Gilberte Favoral had just irrevocably 
 disposed of herself. Prosperous or wretched, her des- 
 tiny henceforth was linked with another. She had set 
 the wheel in motion; and she could no longer hope to 
 control its direction, any more than the will can pretend 
 to alter the course of the ivory ball upon the surface 
 of the roulette-table. At the outset of this great storm 
 of passion which had suddenly surrounded her, she felt 
 an immense surprise, mingled with unexplained appre- 
 hensions and vague terrors. 
 
 Around her, apparently, nothing was changed. 
 Father, mother, brother, friends, gravitated mechanic- 
 ally in their accustomed orbits. The same daily facts 
 repeated themselves monotonous and regular as the tick- 
 tack of the clock. 
 
 And yet an event had occurred more prodigious for 
 her than the moving of a mountain. 
 
 Often during the weeks that followed, she would re- 
 peat to herself, " Is it true, is it possible even ? " 
 
 Or else she would run to a mirror to make sure once 
 more that nothing upon her face or in her eyes betrayed 
 the secret that palpitated within her. 
 
 The singularity of the situation was, moreover, well 
 calculated to trouble and confound her mind. 
 
 Mastered by circumstances, she had in utter disregard 
 of all accepted ideas, and of the commonest propriety, 
 listened to the passionate promises of a stranger, and
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 99 
 
 pledged her life to him. And, the pact concluded and 
 solemnly sworn, they had parted without knowing when 
 propitious circumstances might bring them together 
 again. 
 
 " Certainly," thought she, " before God, M. de Tre- 
 gars is my betrothed husband; and yet we have never 
 exchanged a word. Were we to meet in society, we 
 should be compelled to meet as strangers : if he passes by 
 me in the street, he has no right to bow to me. I know 
 not where he is, what becomes of him, nor what he is 
 doing." 
 
 And in fact she had not seen him again : he had given 
 no sign of life, so faithfully did he conform to her ex- 
 pressed wish. And perhaps secretly, and without ac- 
 knowledging it to herself, had she wished him less scru- 
 pulous. Perhaps she would not have been very angry 
 to see him sometimes gliding along at her passage under 
 the old Arcades of the Rue des Vosges. 
 
 But, whilst suffering from this separation, she con- 
 ceived for the character of Marius the highest esteem; 
 for she felt sure that he must suffer as much and more 
 than she from the restraint which he imposed upon 
 himself. 
 
 Thus he was ever present to her thoughts. She 
 never tired of turning over in her mind all he had said of 
 his past life: she tried to remember his words, and the 
 very tone of his voice. 
 
 And by living constantly thus with the memory of 
 Marius de Tregars, she made herself familiar with him, 
 deceived to that extent, by the illusion of absence, that 
 she actually persuaded herself that she knew him better 
 and better every day. 
 
 Already nearly a month had elapsed, when one after- 
 noon, as she arrived on the Place Royale, she recog-
 
 ioo OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 nized him, standing near that same bench where they 
 had so strangely exchanged their pledges. 
 
 He saw her coming too : she knew it by his looks. But, 
 when she had arrived within a few steps of him, he 
 walked off rapidly, leaving on the bench a folded news- 
 paper. 
 
 Mme. Favoral wished to call him back and return 
 it ; but Mile. Gilberte persuaded her not to. 
 
 " Never mind, mother," said she, " it isn't worth 
 while ; and, besides, the gentleman is too far now." 
 
 But while getting out her embroidery, with that dex- 
 terity which never fails even the most naive girls, she 
 slipped the newspaper in her work-basket. 
 
 Was she not certain that it had been left there for 
 her? 
 
 As soon as she had returned home, she locked herself 
 up in her own room, and, after searching for some 
 time through the columns, she read at last, 
 
 " One of the richest and most intelligent manufac- 
 turers in Paris, M. Marcolet, has just purchased in 
 Crenelle the vast grounds belonging to the Lacoche es- 
 tate. He proposes to build upon them a manufacture of 
 chemical products, the management of which is to be 
 placed in the hands of M. de T . 
 
 " Although still quite young, M. de T is already 
 
 well known in connection with his remarkable studies 
 on electricity. He was, perhaps, on the eve of solving 
 the much controverted problem of electricity as a mo- 
 tive-power, when his father's ruin compelled him to sus- 
 pend his labors. He now seeks to earn by his personal 
 industry the means of prosecuting his costly experi- 
 ments. 
 
 " He is not the first to tread this path. Is it not to 
 the invention of the machine bearing his name, that the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 101 
 
 engineer Giffard owes the fortune which enables him 
 to continue to seek the means of steering balloons? 
 
 Why should not M. de T , who has as much skill 
 
 and energy, have as much luck ? " 
 
 " Ah ! he does not forget me," thought Mile. Gilberte, 
 moved to tears by this article, which, after all, was but 
 a mere puff, written by Marcolet himself, without the 
 knowledge of M. de Tregars. 
 
 She was still under that impression, thinking that 
 Marius was already at work, when her father announced 
 to her that he had discovered a husband, and enjoined 
 her to find him to her liking, as he, the master, thought 
 it proper that she should. 
 
 Hence the energy of her refusal. 
 
 But hence also, the imprudent vivacity which had en- 
 lightened Mme. Favoral, and which made her say, 
 
 " You hide something from me, Gilberte ? " 
 
 Never had the young girl been so cruelly embar- 
 rassed as she was at this moment by this sudden and un- 
 foreseen perspicacity. 
 
 Would she confide to her mother? 
 
 She felt, indeed, no repugnance to do so, certain as 
 she was, in advance, of the inexhaustible indulgence of 
 the poor woman ; and, besides, she would have been de- 
 lighted to have some one at last with whom she coulc 
 speak of Marius. 
 
 But she knew that her father was not the man to give 
 up a project conceived by himself. She knew that he 
 would return to the charge obstinately, without peace, 
 and without truce. Now, as she was determined to re- 
 sist with a no less implacable obstinacy, she foresaw ter 
 rible struggles, all sorts of violence and persecutions. 
 
 Informed of the truth, would Mme. Favoral have 
 strength enough to resist these daily storms? Would
 
 102 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 not a time come, when, called upon by her husband to 
 explain the refusals of her daughter, threatened, terri- 
 fied, she would confess all ? 
 
 At one glance Mile. Gilberte estimated the danger; 
 and, drawing from necessity an audacity which was very 
 foreign to her nature, 
 
 " You are mistaken, dear mother/' said she, " I have 
 concealed nothing from you." 
 
 Not quite convinced, Mme. Favoral shook her head. 
 
 " Then," said she, " you will yield." 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Then there must be some reason you do not tell me." 
 
 " None, except that I do not wish to leave you. Have 
 you ever thought what would be your existence if I were 
 no longer here? Have you ever asked yourself what 
 would become of you, between my father, whose despot- 
 ism will grow heavier with age, and my brother ? " 
 
 Always prompt to defend her son, 
 
 " Maxence is not bad," she interrupted : " he will 
 know how to compensate me for the sorrows he has in- 
 flicted upon me." 
 
 The young girl made a gesture of doubt, 
 
 " I wish it, dear mother," said she, " with all my 
 heart; but I dare not hope for it. His repentance to- 
 night was great and sincere ; but will he remember it to- 
 morrow ? Besides, don't you know that father has fully 
 resolved to separate himself from Maxence? Think of 
 yourself alone here with father." 
 
 Mme. Favoral shuddered at the mere idea. 
 
 " I would not suffer very long," she murmured. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte kissed her. 
 
 " It is because I wish you to live to be happy that I 
 refuse to marry," she exclaimed. " Must you not have 
 your share of happiness in this world ? Let me manage.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 103 
 
 Who knows what compensations the future may have in 
 store for you? Besides, this person whom father has 
 selected for me does not suit me. A stock-jobber, who 
 would think of nothing but money, who would examine 
 my house-accounts as papa does yours, or else who would 
 load me with cashmeres and diamonds, like Mme. de 
 Thaller, to make of me a sign for his shop ? No, no ! I 
 want no such man. So, mother dear, be brave, take 
 sides boldly with your daughter, and we shall soon be 
 rid of this would-be husband." 
 
 " Your father will bring him to you : he said he 
 would." 
 
 " Well, he is a man of courage, if he returns three 
 times." 
 
 At this moment the parlor-door opened suddenly. 
 
 " What are you plotting here again ? " cried the irri- 
 tated voice of the master. " And you, Mme. Favoral, 
 why don't you go to bed ? '' 
 
 The poor slave obeyed, without saying a word. And, 
 whilst making her way to her room, 
 
 " There is trouble ahead," thought Mile. Gilberte. 
 " But bash ! If I do have to suffer some, it won't be 
 great harm, after all. Surely Marius does not com- 
 plain, though he gives up for me his dearest hopes, be- 
 comes the salaried employe of M. Marcolet, and thinks 
 of nothing but making money, he so proud and so dis- 
 interested ! " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte's anticipations were but too soon real- 
 ized. When M. Favoral made his appearance the next 
 morning, he had the sombre brow and contracted lips 
 of a man who has spent the night ruminating a plan 
 from which he does not mean to swerve. 
 
 Instead of going to his office, as usual, without saying 
 a word to any one, he called his wife and children to the
 
 104 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 parlor ; and, after having carefully bolted all the doors, 
 he turned to Maxence. 
 
 " I want you," he commenced, " to give me a list of 
 your creditors. See that you forget none ; and let it be 
 ready as soon as possible." 
 
 But Maxence was no longer the same man. After the 
 terrible and well-deserved reproaches of his sister, a 
 salutary revolution had taken place in him. During the 
 preceding night, he had reflected over his conduct for 
 the past four years ; and he had been dismayed and ter- 
 rified. His impression was like that of the drunkard, 
 who, having become sober, remembers the ridiculous or 
 degrading acts which he has committed under the in- 
 fluence of alcohol, and, confused and humiliated, swears 
 never more to drink. 
 
 Thus Maxence had sworn to himself to change his 
 mode of life, promising that it would be no drunkard's 
 oath, either. And his attitude and his looks showed the 
 pride of great resolutions. 
 
 Instead of lowering his eyes before the irritated glance 
 of M. Favoral, and stammering excuses and vague 
 promises, 
 
 " It is useless, father," he replied, " to give you the list 
 you ask for. I am old enough to bear the responsibility 
 of my acts. I shall repair my follies : what I owe, I shall 
 pay. This very day I shall see my creditors, and make 
 'rrangements with them." 
 
 " Very well, Maxence," exclaimed Mme. Favoral, de- 
 ;ighted. 
 
 But there was no pacifying the cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit. 
 
 "Those are fine-sounding words," he said with a 
 sneer ; " but I doubt if the tailors and the shirt-makers 
 will take them in payment. That's why I want that list."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 105 
 
 " Still " 
 
 " It's I who shall pay. I do not mean to have an- 
 other such scene as that of yesterday in my office. It 
 must not be said that my son is a sharper and a cheat 
 at the very moment when I find for my daughter a most 
 unhoped-for match." 
 
 And, turning to Mile. Gilberte, 
 
 " For I suppose you have got over your foolish 
 ideas," h uttered. 
 
 The young girl shook her head. 
 
 " My ideas are the same as they were last night." 
 
 "Ah, ah!" 
 
 " And so, father, I beg of you, do not insist. Why 
 wrangle and quarrel ? You must know me well enough 
 to know, that, whatever may happen, I shall never 
 yield." 
 
 Indeed, M. Favoral was well aware of his daughter's 
 firmness ; for he had already been compelled on several 
 occasions, as he expressed it himself, " to strike his flag " 
 before her. But he could not believe that she would 
 resist when he took certain means of enforcing his 
 will. 
 
 " I have pledged my word," he said. 
 
 " But I have not pledged mine, father." 
 
 He was becoming excited: his cheeks were flushed; 
 and his little eyes sparkled. 
 
 " And suppose I were to tell you," he resumed, doing 
 at least to his daughter the honor of controlling his an- 
 ger, " suppose I were to tell you that I would derive 
 from this marriage immense, positive, and immediate ad- 
 vantages ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " she interrupted with a look of disgust, " oh, 
 for mercy's sake ! " 
 
 " Suppose I were to tell you that I have a powerful
 
 106 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 interest in it; that it is indispensable to the success of 
 vast combinations ? " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte looked straight at him. 
 
 " I would answer you," she exclaimed, " that it does 
 not suit me to be made use of as an earnest to your com- 
 binations. Ah! it's an operation, is it? an enterprise, a 
 big speculation ? and you throw in your daughter in the 
 bargain as a bonus. Well, no ! You can tell your part- 
 ner that the thing has fallen through." 
 
 M. Favoral's anger was growing with each word. 
 
 " I'll see if I can't make you yield," he said. ' 
 
 " You may crush me, perhaps. Make me yield, 
 never ! " 
 
 " Well, we shall see. You will see Maxence and you 
 whether there are no means by which a father can 
 compel his rebellious children to submit to his au- 
 thority." 
 
 And, feeling that he was no longer master of himself, 
 he left, swearing loud enough to shake the plaster from 
 the stair-walls. 
 
 Maxence shook with indignation. 
 
 " Never," he uttered, " never until now, had I under- 
 stood the infamy of my conduct. With a father such as 
 ours, Gilberte, I should be your protector. And now I 
 am debarred even of the right to interfere. But never 
 mind, I have the will ; and all will soon be repaired." 
 
 Left alone, a few moments after, Mile. Gilberte was 
 congratulating herself upon her firmness. 
 
 " I am sure," she thought, " Marius would approve, 
 if he knew." 
 
 She had not long to wait for her reward. The bell 
 rang: it was her old professor, the Signer Gismondo 
 Pulei, who came to give her his daily lesson. 
 
 The liveliest joy beamed upon his face, more shriv-
 
 107 
 
 elled than an apple at Easter ; and the most magnificent 
 anticipations sparkled in his eyes. 
 
 " I knew it, signora ! " he exclaimed from the thresh- 
 old : " I knew that angels bring good luck. As every 
 thing succeeds to you, so must every thing succeed to 
 those who come near you." 
 
 She could not help smiling at the appropriateness of 
 the compliment. 
 
 " Something fortunate has happened to you, dear 
 master?" she asked. 
 
 " That is to say, I am on the high-road to fortune and 
 glory," he replied. " My fame is extending ; pupils dis- 
 pute the privilege of my lesson." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte knew too well the thoroughly Italian 
 exaggeration of the worthy maestro to be surprised. 
 
 " This morning," he went on, " visited by inspira- 
 tion, I had risen early, and I was working with marvel- 
 lous facility, when there was a knock at my door. I 
 do not remember such an occurrence since the blessed 
 day when your worthy father called for me. Surprised, 
 I nevertheless said, ' Come in ; ' when there appeared a 
 tall and robust young man, proud and intelligent-look- 
 ing." 
 
 The young girl started. 
 
 " Marius ! " cried a voice within her." 
 
 " This young man/' continued the old Italian, " had 
 heard me spoken of, and came to apply for lessons. I 
 questioned him ; and from the first words I discovered 
 that his education had been frightfully neglected, that he 
 was ignorant of the most vulgar notions of the divine 
 art, and that he scarcely knew the difference between a 
 sharp and a quaver. It was really the A, B, C, which he 
 wished me to teach him. Laborious task, ungrateful la- 
 bor ! But he manifested so much shame at his ignorance.
 
 io8 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and so much desire to be instructed, that I felt moved in 
 his favor. Then his countenance was most winning, his 
 voice of a superior tone ; and finally he offered me sixty 
 francs a month. In short, he is now my pupil." 
 
 As well as she could, Mile. Gilberte was hiding her 
 blushes behind a music-book. 
 
 " We remained over two hours talking," said the good 
 and simple maestro, " and I believe that he has excellent 
 dispositions. Unfortunately, he can only take two les- 
 sons a week. Although a nobleman, he works; and, 
 when he took off his glove to hand me a month in ad- 
 vance, I noticed that one of his hands was blackened, as 
 if burnt by some acid. But never mind, signora, sixty 
 francs, together with what your father gives me, it's a 
 fortune. The end of my career will be spared the pri- 
 vations of its beginning. This young man will help 
 making me known. The morning has been dark; but 
 the sunset will be glorious." 
 
 The young girl could no longer have any doubts : M. 
 de Tregars had found the means of hearing from her, 
 and letting her hear from him. 
 
 The impression she felt contributed no little to give 
 her the patience to endure the obstinate persecution of 
 her father, who, twice a day, never failed to repeat to 
 her, 
 
 " Get ready to properly receive my protege on Satur- 
 day. I have not invited him to dinner: he will only 
 spend the evening with us." 
 
 And he mistook for a disposition to yield the cold 
 tone in which she answered, 
 
 " I beg you to believe that this introduction is wholly 
 unnecessary." 
 
 Thus, the famous day having come, he told his usual
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 109 
 
 Saturday guests, M. and Mme. Desclavettes, M. Chape- 
 lain, and old man Desormeaux, 
 
 " Eh, eh ! I guess you are going to see a future son-in- 
 law!" 
 
 At nine o'clock, just as they had passed into the par- 
 lor, the sound of carriage-wheels startled the Rue St. 
 Gilles. 
 
 " There he is ! " exclaimed the cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit. 
 
 And, throwing open a window, 
 
 " Come, Gilberte," he added, " come and see his car- 
 riage and horses." 
 
 She never stirred ; but M. Desclavettes and M. Chape- 
 lain ran. It was night, unfortunately ; and of the whole 
 equipage nothing was visible but the two lanterns that 
 shone like stars. Almost at the same time the parlor- 
 door flew open ; and the servant, who had been properly 
 trained in advance, announced, 
 
 " Monsieur Costeclar." 
 
 Leaning toward Mme. Favoral, who was seated by 
 her side on the sofa, 
 
 " A nice-looking man, isn't he ? a really nice-looking 
 man," whispered Mme. Desclavettes. 
 
 And indeed he really thought so himself. Gesture, 
 attitude, smile, every thing in M. Costeclar, betrayed the 
 satisfaction of self, and the assurance of a man accus- 
 tomed to success. His head, which was very small, had 
 but little hair left ; but it was artistically drawn towards 
 the temples, parted in the middle, and cut short around 
 the forehead. His leaden complexion, his pale lips, and 
 his dull eye, did not certainly betray a very rich blood ; 
 but he had a great long nose, sharp and curved like a 
 sickle; and his beard, of undecided color, trimmed in
 
 I io OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the Victor Emmanuel style, did the greatest honor to 
 the barber who cultivated it. Even when seen for the 
 first time, one might fancy that he recognized him, so 
 exactly was he like three or four hundred others who 
 are seen daily in the neighborhood of the Cafe Riche, 
 who are met everywhere where people run who pretend 
 to amuse themselves, at the bourse or in the bois; at 
 the first representations, where they are just enough hid- 
 den to be perfectly well seen at the back of boxes filled 
 with young ladies with astonishing chignons; at the 
 races ; in carriages, where they drink champagne to the 
 health of the winner. 
 
 He had on this occasion hoisted his best looks, and 
 the full dress de rigueur, dress-coat with wide sleeves, 
 shirt cut low in the neck, and open vest, fastened below 
 the waist by a single button. 
 
 " Quite the man of the world," again remarked Mme. 
 Desclavettes. 
 
 M. Favoral rushed toward him ; and the latter, hasten- 
 ing, met him half way, and, taking both his hands into 
 his, 
 
 " I cannot tell you, dear friend," he commenced, " how 
 deeply I feel the honor you do me in receiving me in the 
 midst of your charming family and your respectable 
 friends/' 
 
 And he bowed all around during this speech, which 
 he delivered in the condescending tone of a lord visiting 
 his inferiors. 
 
 " Let me introduce you to my wife," interrupted the 
 cashier. And, leading him towards Mme. Favoral, 
 
 " Monsieur Costeclar, my dear," said he, " the 
 friend of whom we have spoken so often." 
 
 M. Costeclar bowed, rounding his shoulders, bending
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY in 
 
 his lean form in a half-circle, and letting his arms hang 
 forward. 
 
 " I am too much the friend of our dear Favoral, 
 madame," he uttered, " not to have heard of you long 
 since, nor to know your merits, and the fact that he owes 
 to you that peaceful happiness which he enjoys, and 
 which we all envy him." 
 
 Standing by the mantel-piece, the usual Saturday- 
 evening guests followed with the liveliest interest the 
 evolutions of the pretender. Two of them, M. Chape- 
 lain and old Desormeaux, were perfectly able to appreci- 
 ate him at his just value; but, in affirming that he made 
 half a million a year, M. Favoral had, as it were, thrown 
 over his shoulders that famous ducal cloak which con- 
 cealed all deformities. 
 
 Without waiting for his wife's answer, M. Favoral 
 brought his protege in front of Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 " Dear daughter/'said he, " Monsieur Costeclar, the 
 friend of whom I have spoken." 
 
 M. Costeclar bowed still lower, and rounded off his 
 shoulders again ; but the young lady looked at him from 
 head to foot with such a freezing glance, that his tongue 
 remained as if paralyzed in his mouth, and he could only 
 stammer out, 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! the honor, the humblest of your ad- 
 mirers/' 
 
 Fortunately Maxence was standing three steps off. 
 he fell back in good order upon him, and seizing his 
 hand, which he shook vigorously, 
 
 " I hope, my dear sir, that we shall soon be quite inti- 
 mate friends. Your excellent father, whose special con- 
 cern you are, has often spoken to me of you. Events, 
 so he has confided to me, have not hitherto responded to
 
 ii2 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 your expectations. At your age, this is not a very grave 
 matter. People, now-a-days, do not always find at the 
 first attempt the road that leads to fortune. You will find 
 yours. From this time forth I place at your command 
 my influence and my experience; and, if you will con- 
 sent to take me for your guide " 
 
 Maxence had withdrawn his hand. 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, sir," he answered 
 coldly ; " but I am content with my lot, and I believe 
 myself old enough to walk alone." 
 
 Almost any one would have lost countenance. But M. 
 Costeclar was so little put out, that it seemed as though 
 he had expected just such a reception. He turned upon 
 his heels, and advanced towards M. Favoral's friends 
 with a smile so engaging as to make it evident that he 
 was anxious to conquer their suffrages. 
 
 This was at the beginning of the month of June, 
 1870. No one as yet could foresee the frightful disasters 
 which were to mark the end of that fatal year. And yet 
 there was everywhere in France that indefinable anxiety 
 which precedes great social convulsions. The plebisci- 
 tum had not succeeded in restoring confidence. Every 
 day the most alarming rumors were put in circulation ; 
 and it was with a sort of passion that people went in 
 quest of news. 
 
 Now, M. Costeclar was a wonderfully well-posted 
 man. He had, doubtless, on his way, stopped on the 
 Boulevard des Italiens, that blessed ground where 
 nightly the street-brokers labor for the financial pros- 
 perity of the country. He had gone through the Passage 
 de POpera, which is, as is well known, the best market 
 for the most correct and the most reliable news. There- 
 fore he might safely be believed. 
 
 Placing his back to the chimney, he had taken the lead
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 113 
 
 in the conversation; and he was talking, talking, talk- 
 ing. Being a " bull," he took a favorable view of every 
 thing. He believed in the eternity of the second empire. 
 He sang the praise of the new cabinet : he was ready to 
 pour out his blood for fimile Ollivier. True, some people 
 .complained that business was dull and slow ; but those 
 people, he thought, were merely " bears." Business had 
 never been so brilliant. At no time had prosperity been 
 greater. Capital was abundant. The institutions of 
 credit were flourishing. Securities were rising. Every- 
 body's pockets were full to bursting. And the others 
 listened in astonishment to this inexhaustible prattle, 
 this " gab," more filled with gold spangles than Dantzig 
 cordial, with which the commercial travellers of the 
 bourse catch their customers. 
 
 Suddenly, 
 
 " But you must excuse me," he said, rushing towards 
 the other end of the parlor. 
 
 Mme. Favoral had just left the room to order tea to 
 be brought in ; and, the seat by Mile. Gilberte being va- 
 cant, M. Costeclar occupied it promptly. 
 
 " He understands his business," growled M. Desor- 
 meaux. 
 
 " Surely," said M. Desclavettes, " If I had some 
 funds to dispose of just now." 
 
 " I would be most happy to have him for my son-in- 
 law," declared M. Favoral. 
 
 He was doing his best. Somewhat intimidated by 
 Mile. Gilberte's first look, he had now fully recovered 
 his wits. 
 
 He commenced by sketching his own portrait. 
 
 He had just turned thirty, and had experienced the 
 strong and the weak side of life. He had had " suc- 
 cesses," but had tired of them. Having gauged the emp-
 
 ii4 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 tincss of what is called pleasure, he only wished now to 
 find a partner for life, whose graces and virtues would 
 secure his domestic happiness. 
 
 He could not help noticing the absent look of the 
 young girl ; but he had, thought he, other means of com- 
 pelling her attention. And he went on, saying that he- 
 felt himself cast of the metal of which model husbands 
 are made. His plans were all made in advance. His 
 wife would be free to do as she pleased. She would have 
 her own carriage and horses, her box at the Italiens and 
 at the Opera, and an open account at Worth's and Van 
 Klopen's. As to diamonds, he would take care of that. 
 He meant that his wife's display of wealth should be 
 noticed, and even spoken of in the newspapers. 
 
 Was this the terms of a bargain that he was offer- 
 ing? 
 
 If so, it was so coarsely, that Mile. Gilberte, ignorant 
 of life as she was, wondered in what world it might be 
 that he had met with so many " successes." 
 
 And, somewhat indignantly, 
 
 " Unfortunately," she said,, " the bourse is perfidious ; 
 and the man who drives his own carriage to-day, to- 
 morrow may have no shoes to wear." 
 
 M. Costeclar nodded with a smile. 
 
 " Exactly so," said he. " A marriage protects one 
 against such reverses." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Every man in active business, when he marries, set- 
 tles upon his wife a reasonable fortune. I expect to set- 
 tle six hundred thousand francs upon mine." 
 
 " So that, if you were to meet with an accident? " 
 
 " We should enjoy our thirty thousand a year under 
 the very nose of the creditors." 
 
 Blushing with shame, Mile. Gilberte rose.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 115 
 
 " But then," said she, " it isn't a wife that you are 
 looking for : it is an accomplice." 
 
 He was spared the embarrassment of an answer, by 
 the servant, who came in, bringing in tea. He accepted 
 a cup; and after two or three anecdotes, judging that 
 he had done enough for a first visit, he withdrew, and a 
 moment later they heard his carriage driving off at full 
 gallop. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 IT was not without mature thought that M. Costeclar 
 had determined to withdraw, despite M. Favoral's press- 
 ing overtures. However infatuated he might be with 
 his own merits, he had been compelled to surrender to 
 evidence, and to acknowledge that he had not exactly 
 succeeded with Mile. Gilberte. But he also knew that 
 he had the head of the house on his side; and he flat- 
 tered himself that he had produced an excellent impres- 
 sion upon the guests of the house. 
 
 " Therefore," had he said to himself, " if I leave first, 
 they will sing my praise, lecture the young person, and 
 make her listen to reason." 
 
 He was not far from being right. Mme. Desclavettes 
 had been completely subjugated by the grand manners 
 of this pretender; and M. Desclavettes did not hesitate 
 to affirm that he had rarely met any one who pleased him 
 more. 
 
 The others, M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux, did 
 not, doubtless, share this optimism ; but M. Costeclar's 
 annual half-million obscured singularly their clear-sight- 
 e dness. 
 
 They thought, perhaps, they had discovered in him
 
 u6 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 some alarming features; but they had full and entire 
 confidence in their friend Favoral's prudent sagacity. 
 
 The particular and methodic cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit was not apt to be enthusiastic ; and, if he opened 
 the doors of his house to a young man, if he was so 
 anxious to have him for his son-in-law, he must evi- 
 dently have taken ample information. 
 
 Finally there are certain family matters from which 
 sensible people keep away as they would from the 
 plague ; and, on the question of marriage especially, he is 
 a bold man who would take side for or against. 
 
 Thus Mme. Desclavettes was the only one to raise her 
 voice. Taking Mile. Gilberte's hands within hers, 
 
 " Let me scold you, my dear," said she, " for having 
 received thus a poor young man who was only trying to 
 please you.'' 
 
 Excepting her mother, too weak to take her defence, 
 and her brother, who was debarred from interfering, the 
 young girl understood readily, that, in that parlor, every 
 one, overtly or tacitly, was against her. The idea came 
 to her mind to repeat there boldly what she had already 
 told her father, that she was resolved not to marry, 
 and that she would not marry, not being one of those 
 weak girls, without energy, whom they dress in white, 
 and drag to church against their will. 
 
 Such a bold declaration would be in keeping with her 
 character. But she feared a terrible, and perhaps degrad- 
 ing scene. The most intimate friends of the family were 
 ignorant of its most painful sores. In presence of his 
 friends, M. Favoral dissembled, speaking in a mild voice, 
 and assuming a kindly smile. Should she suddenly re- 
 veal the truth? 
 
 " It is childish of you to run the risk of discouraging
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 117 
 
 a clever fellow who makes half a million a year," con- 
 tinued the wife of the old bronze-merchant, to whom 
 such conduct seemed an abominable crime of lese-money. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte had withdrawn her hands. 
 
 " You did not hear what he said, madame." 
 
 " I beg your pardon : I was quite near, and involunta- 
 rily " 
 
 " You have heard his propositions? " 
 
 " Perfectly. He was promising you a carriage, a box 
 at the opera, diamonds, freedom. Isn't that the dream of 
 all young ladies ? " 
 
 " It is not mine, madame ! " 
 
 "Dear me! What better can you wish? You must 
 not expect more from a husband than he can possibly 
 give." 
 
 " That is not what I shall expect of him/' 
 
 In a tone of paternal indulgence, which his looks be- 
 lied 
 
 " She is mad/' suggested M. Favoral. 
 
 Tears of indignation filled Mile. Gilberte's eyes. 
 
 " Mme. Desclavettes," she exclaimed, " forgets some- 
 thing. She forgets that this gentleman dared to tell me 
 that he proposed to settle upon the woman he marries a 
 large fortune, of which his creditors would thus be 
 cheated in case of his failure in business." 
 
 She thought, in her simplicity, that a cry of indigna- 
 tion would rise at these words. Instead of which, 
 
 " Well, isn't it perfectly natural ? " said M. Descla- 
 vettes. 
 
 " It seems to me more than natural," insisted Mme. 
 Desclavettes, " that a man should be anxious to preserve 
 from ruin his wife and children." 
 
 " Of course," put in M. Favoral.
 
 n8 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Stepping resolutely toward her father, 
 
 "Have you, then, taken such precautions yourself?" 
 demanded Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 " No," answered the cashier of the Mutual Credit. 
 
 And, after a moment of hesitation, 
 
 " But I am running no risks," he added. " In busi- 
 ness, and when a man may be ruined by a mere rise or 
 fall in stocks, he would be insane indeed who did not 
 secure bread for his family, and, above all, means for 
 himself, wherewith to commence again. The Baron de 
 Thaller did not act otherwise ; and, should he meet with 
 a disaster, Mme. de Thaller would still have a handsome 
 fortune." 
 
 M. Desormeaux was, perhaps, the only one not to ad- 
 mit freely that theory, and not to accept that ever-deci- 
 sive reason, " Others do it." 
 
 But he was a philosopher, and thought it silly not to 
 be of his time. He therefore contented himself with 
 saying, 
 
 " Hum ! M. de Thaller's creditors might not think 
 that mode of proceeding entirely regular." 
 
 " Then they might sue," said M. Chapelain, laughing. 
 " People can always sue ; only when the papers are well 
 drawn '' 
 
 Mile. Gilberte stood dismayed. She thought of Marius 
 de Tregars giving up his mother's fortune to pay his 
 father's debts. 
 
 " What would he say," thought she, " should he hear 
 such opinions ! " 
 
 The cashier of the Mutual Credit resumed, 
 
 " Surely I blame every species of fraud. But I pre- 
 tend, and I maintain, that a man who has worked twenty 
 years to give a handsome dowry to his daughter has the 
 right to demand of his son-in-law certain conservative
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 119 
 
 measures to guarantee the money, which, after all, is his 
 own, and which is to benefit no one but his own family." 
 
 This declaration closed the evening. It was getting 
 late. The Saturday guests put on their overcoats ; and, 
 as they were walking home, 
 
 " Can you understand that little Gilberte ? " said Mme. 
 Desclavettes. " I'd like to see a daughter of mine have 
 such fancies ! But her poor mother is so weak ! " 
 
 " Yes ; but friend Favoral is firm enough for both/' 
 interrupted M. Desormeaux ; " and it is more than 
 probable that at this very moment he is correcting his 
 daughter of the sin of sloth." 
 
 Well, not at all. Extremely angry as M. Favoral 
 must have been, neither that evening, nor the next day, 
 did he make the remotest allusion to what had taken 
 place. 
 
 The following Monday only, before leaving for his 
 office, casting upon his wife and daughter one of his 
 ugliest looks, 
 
 " M. Costeclar owes us a visit," said he ; " and it is 
 possible that he may call in my absence. I wish him to 
 be admitted ; and I forbid you to go out, so that you can 
 have no pretext to refuse him the door. I presume there 
 will not be found in my house any one bold enough to 
 ill receive a man whom I like, and whom I have selected 
 for my son-inlaw." 
 
 But was it probable, was it even possible, that M. 
 Costeclar could venture upon such a step after Mile. Gil- 
 berte's treatment of him on the previous Saturday even- 
 ing? 
 
 " No, a thousand times no ! " affirmed Maxence to his 
 mother and sister. " So you may rest easy." 
 
 Indeed they tried to be, until that very afternoon the 
 sound of rapidly-rolling wheels attracted Mme. Favoral
 
 120 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to the window. A coupe, drawn by two gray horses, had 
 just stopped at the door. 
 
 " It must be he," she said to her daughter. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte had turned slightly pale. 
 
 "There is no help for it, mother/' she said: "You 
 must receive him." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I shall remain in my room." 
 
 " Do you suppose he won't ask for you ? " 
 
 " You will answer that I am unwell. He will under- 
 stand." 
 
 " But your father, unhappy child, your father? " 
 
 " I do not acknowledge to my father the right of 
 disposing of my person against my wishes. I detest that 
 man to whom he wishes to marry me. Would you like 
 to see me his wife, to know me given up to the most in- 
 tolerable torture ? No, there is no violence in the world 
 that will ever wring my consent from me. So, mother 
 dear, do what I ask you. My father can say what he 
 pleases : I take the whole responsibility upon myself." 
 
 There was no time to argue : the bell rang. Mile. Gil- 
 berte had barely time to escape through one of the doors 
 of the parlor, whilst M. Costeclar was entering at the 
 other. 
 
 If he did have enough perspicacity to guess what had 
 just taken place, he did not in any way show it. He sat 
 down ; and it was only after conversing for a few mo- 
 ments upon indifferent subjects, that he asked how Mile 
 Gilberte was. 
 
 " She is somewhat unwell," stammered Mme. Fa- 
 voral. 
 
 fie did not appear surprised ; only, 
 " Our dear Favoral," he said, " will be still more 
 pained than I am when he hears of this mishap,"
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 121 
 
 Better than any other mother, Mme. Favoral must 
 have understood and approved Mile. Gilberte's invinci- 
 ble repugnance. To her also, when she was young, her 
 father had come one day, and said, " I have discovered a 
 husband for you." She had accepted him blindly. 
 Bruised and wounded by daily outrages, she had sought 
 refuge in marriage as in a haven of safety. 
 
 And since, hardly a day had elapsed that she had not 
 thought it would have been better for her to have died 
 rather then to have riveted to her neck those fetters that 
 death alone can remove. She thought, therefore, that 
 her daughter was perfectly right. And yet twenty years 
 of slavery had so weakened the springs of her energy, 
 that under the glance of Costeclar, threatening her with 
 her husband's name, she felt embarrassed, and could 
 scarcely stammer some timid excuses. And she allowed 
 him to prolong his visit, and consequently her torment, 
 for over an half an hour ; then, when he had gone, 
 
 " He and your father understand each other," said she 
 to her daughter, " that is but too evident. What is the 
 use of struggling? " 
 
 A fugitive blush colored the pale cheeks of Mile. Gil- 
 berte. For the past forty-eight hours she had been ex- 
 hausting herself, seeking an issue to an impossible situa- 
 tion; and she had accustomed her mind to the worst 
 eventualities. 
 
 " Do you wish me, then, to desert the paternal roof? " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 Mme. Favoral almost dropped on the floor. 
 
 " You would run away," she stammered, " you ! "- 
 
 " Rather than become that man's wife, yes ! " 
 
 " And where would you go, unfortunate child ? what 
 would you do? " 
 
 " I can earn my living."
 
 122 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Mme. Favoral shook her head sadly. The same sus- 
 picions were reviving within her that she had felt once 
 before. 
 
 " Gilberte," she said in a beseeching tone, " am I, then, 
 no longer your best friend? and will you not tell me 
 from what sources you draw your courage and your 
 resolution ? " 
 
 And, as her daughter said nothing, 
 
 " God alone knows what may happen ! " sighed the 
 poor woman. 
 
 Nothing happened, but what could have been easily 
 foreseen. When M. Favoral came home to dinner, he 
 was whistling a perfect storm on the stairs. He abstained 
 at first from all recrimination; but towards the end of 
 the meal, with the most sarcastic look he could as- 
 sume, 
 
 " It seems," he said to his daughter, " that you were 
 unwell this afternoon ? " 
 
 Bravely, and without flinching, she sustained his look ; 
 and, in a firm voice, 
 
 " I shall always be indisposed," she replied, " when M. 
 Costeclar calls. You hear me, don't you, father, al- 
 ways ! " 
 
 But the cashier of the Credit Mutual was not one of 
 those men whose wrath finds vent in mere sarcasms. 
 Rising suddenly to his feet, 
 
 " By the holy heavens ! " he screamed forth, " you 
 are wrong to trifle thus with my will; for, all of you 
 here, I shall crush you as I do this glass." 
 
 And, with a frenzied gesture, he dashed the glass he 
 held in his hand against the wall, where it broke in a 
 thousand pieces. Trembling like a leaf, Mme. Favoral 
 staggered upon her chair.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 123 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " BETTER kill her at once," said Mile. Gilberte coldly. 
 " She would suffer less." 
 
 It was by a torrent of invective that M. Favoral re- 
 plied. His rage, dammed up for the past four days, find- 
 ing at last an outlet, flowed in gross insults and insane 
 threats. He spoke of throwing out in the street his wife 
 and children, or starving them out, or shutting up his 
 daughter in a house of correction ; until at last, language 
 failing his fury, beside himself, he left, swearing that he 
 would bring M. Costeclar home himself, and then they 
 would see. 
 
 " Very well, we shall see," said Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 Motionless in his place, and white as a plaster cast, 
 Maxence had witnessed this lamentable scene. A gleam 
 of common-sense had enabled him to control his indigna- 
 tion, and to remain silent. He had understood, that, at 
 the first word, his father's fury would have turned 
 against him ; and then what might have happened ? The 
 most frightful dramas of the criminal courts have often 
 had no other origin. 
 
 " No, this is no longer bearable ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Even at the time of his greatest follies, Maxence had 
 always had for his sister a fraternal affection. He ad- 
 mired her from the day she had stood up before him to 
 reproach him for his misconduct. He envied her her 
 quiet determination, her patient tenacity, and that calm 
 energy that never failed her. 
 
 " Have patience, my poor Gilberte," he added : " the 
 day is not far, I hope, when I may commence to repay 
 you all you have done for me. I have not lost my time 
 since you restored me my reason. I have arranged with
 
 124 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 my creditors. I have found a situation, which, if not 
 brilliant, is at least sufficiently lucrative to enable me be- 
 fore long to offer you, as well as to our mother, a peace- 
 ful retreat." 
 
 " But it is to-morrow," interrupted Mme. Favoral, 
 " to-morrow that your father is to bring M. Costeclar. 
 He has said so, and he will do it." 
 
 And so he did. About two o'clock in the afternoon 
 M. Favoral and his protege arrived in the Rue St. Gilles, 
 in that famous coupe with the two horses, which excited 
 the wonder of the neighbors. 
 
 But Mile. Gilberte had her plan ready. She was on 
 the lookout ; and, as soon as she heard the carriage stop, 
 she ran to her room, undressed in a twinkling, and went 
 to bed. 
 
 When her father came for her, and saw her in bed, he 
 remained surprised and puzzled on the threshold of the 
 door. 
 
 " And yet I'll make you come into the parlor ! " he 
 said in a hoarse voice. 
 
 " Then you must carry me there as I am," she said 
 in a tone of defiance ; " for I shall certainly not get up." 
 
 For the first time since his marriage, M. Favoral met 
 in his own house a more inflexible will than his own, 
 and a more unyielding obstinacy. He was baffled. He 
 threatened his daughter with his clinched fists, but could 
 discover no means of making her obey. He was com- 
 pelled to surrender, to yield. 
 
 " This will be settled with the rest," he growled, as 
 he went out. 
 
 " I fear nothing in the world, father," said the girl. 
 
 It was almost true, so much did the thought of Marius 
 de Tregars inflame her courage. Twice already she had 
 heard from him through the Signor Gismondo Pulei,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 125 
 
 who never tired talking of this new pupil, to whom he 
 had already given two lessons. 
 
 " He is the most gallant man in the world," he said, 
 his eye sparkling with enthusiasm, " and the bravest, 
 and the most generous, and the best ; and no quality that 
 can adorn one of God's creatures shall be wanting in 
 him when I have taught him the divine art. It is not 
 with a little contemptible gold that he means to reward 
 my zeal. To him I am as a second father ; and it is with 
 the confidence of a son that he explains to me his labors 
 and his hopes." 
 
 Thus Mile. Gilberte learned through the old maestro, 
 that the newspaper article she had read was almost ex- 
 actly true, and that M. de Tregars and M. Marcolet had 
 become associated for the purpose of working, in joint 
 account, certain recent discoveries,, which bid fair to 
 yield large profits in a near future. 
 
 " And yet it is for my sake alone that he has thus 
 thrown himself into the turmoil of business, and has 
 become as eager for gain as that M. Marcolet himself." 
 
 And, at the height of her father's persecutions, she 
 felt glad of what she had done, and of her boldness in 
 placing her destiny in the hands of a stranger. The 
 memory of Marius had become her refuge, the element 
 of all her dreams and of all her hopes; in a word, her 
 life. 
 
 It was of Marius she was thinking, when her mother, 
 surprising her gazing into vacancy, would ask her, 
 " What are you thinking of ? " And, at every new vexa- 
 tion she had to endure, her imagination decked him with 
 a new quality, and she clung to him with a more desper- 
 ate grasp. 
 
 " How much he would grieve," thought she, " if he 
 knew of what persecution I am the object ! "
 
 126 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And very careful was she not to allow the Signer Gis~ 
 mondo Pulei to suspect any thing of it, affecting, on the 
 contrary, in his presence, the most cheerful serenity. 
 
 And yet she was a prey to the most cruel anxiety, 
 since she observed a new and most incredible transfor- 
 mation in her father. 
 
 That man so violent and so harsh, who flattered him- 
 self never to have been bent, who boasted never to have 
 forgotten or forgiven any thing, that domestic tyrant, 
 had become quite a debonair personage. He had referred 
 to the expedient imagined by Mile. Gilberte only to 
 laugh at it, saying that it was a good trick, and he de- 
 served it ; for he repented bitterly, he protested, his past 
 brutalities. 
 
 He owned that he had at heart his daughter's mar- 
 riage with M. Costeclar; but he acknowledged that he 
 had made use of the surest means for making it fail. 
 He should, he humbly confessed, have expected every 
 thing of time and circumstances, of M. Costeclar's excel- 
 lent qualities, and of his beautiful, darling daughter's 
 good sense. 
 
 More than -of all his violence, Mme. Favoral was ter- 
 rified at this affected good nature. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she sighed, " what does it all mean ? " 
 
 But the cashier of the Mutual Credit was not prepar- 
 ing any new surprise to his family. If the means were 
 different, it was still the same object that he was pur- 
 suing with the tenacity of an insect. When severity had 
 failed, he hoped to succeed by gentleness, that's all. Only 
 this assumption of hypocritical meekness was too new 
 to him to deceive any one. At every moment the mask 
 fell off, the claws showed, and his voice trembled with 
 ill-suppressed rage in the midst of his most honeyed 
 phrases.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 127 
 
 Moreover, he entertained the strangest illusions. 
 
 Because for forty-eight hours he had acted the part of 
 a good-natured man, because one Sunday he had taken 
 his wife and daughter out riding in the Bois de Vin- 
 cennes, because he had given Maxence a hundred-franc 
 note, he imagined that it was all over, that the past was 
 obliterated, forgotten, and forgiven. 
 
 And, drawing Gilberte upon his knees, 
 
 " Well, daughter," he said, " you see that I don't im- 
 portune you any more, and I leave you quite free. I 
 am more reasonable than you are." 
 
 But on the other hand, and according to an ex- 
 pression which escaped him later, he tried to turn 
 the enemy. 
 
 He did every thing in his power to spread in the 
 neighborhood the rumor of Mile. Gilberte's marriage 
 with a financier of colossal wealth, that elegant young 
 man who came in a coupe with two horses. Mme. Fa- 
 voral could not enter a shop without being covertly com- 
 plimented upon having found such a magnificent estab- 
 lishment for her daughter. 
 
 Loud, indeed, must have been the gossip; for its 
 echo reached even the inattentive ears of the Signor Gis- 
 mondo Pulei. 
 
 One day, suddenly interrupting his lesson, 
 
 "You are going to be married, signora?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte started. 
 
 What the old Italian had heard, he would surely ere 
 long repeat to Marius. It was therefore urgent to un- 
 deceive him. 
 
 " It is true/' she replied, " that something has been 
 said about a marriage, dear maestro." 
 
 "Ah. ah!"
 
 128 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Only my father had not consulted me. That mar- 
 riage will never take place : I swear it." 
 
 She expressed herself in a tone of such ardent convic- 
 tion, that the old gentleman was quite astonished, little 
 dreaming that it was not to him that this energetic de- 
 nial was addressed. 
 
 " My destiny is irrevocably fixed," added Mile. Gil- 
 berte. " When I marry, I will consult the inspirations of 
 my heart only." 
 
 In the mean time, it was a veritable conspiracy against 
 her. M. Favoral had succeeded in interesting in the suc- 
 cess of his designs his habitual guests, not M. and Mme. 
 Desclavettes, who had been seduced from the first, but 
 M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux himself. So that they 
 all vied with each other in their efforts to bring the 
 " dear child " to reason, and to enlighten her with their 
 counsels. 
 
 " Father must have a still more considerable interest 
 in this alliance than he has allowed us to think/' she re- 
 marked to her brother. Maxence was also absolutely 
 of the same opinion. 
 
 " And then," he added, " our father must be terribly 
 rich ; for, do not deceive yourself, it isn't solely for your 
 pretty blue eyes that this Costeclar persists in coming 
 here twice a week to pocket a new mortification. What 
 enormous dowry can he be hoping for? I am going to 
 speak to him myself, and try to find out what he is 
 after." 
 
 But Mile. Gilberte had but slight confidence in her 
 brother's diplomacy. 
 
 " I beg of you," she said, " don't meddle with that 
 business ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will ! Fear nothing, I'll be prudent." 
 
 Having taken his resolution, Maxence placed himself
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 129 
 
 on the lookout ; and the very next day, as M. Costeclar 
 was stepping out of his carriage at the door, he walked 
 straight up to him. 
 
 " I wish to speak to you, sir," he said. 
 ' Self-possessed as he was, the brilliant financier suc- 
 ceeded but poorly in concealing a surprise that looked 
 very much like fright. 
 
 " I am going in to call on your parents, sir," he re- 
 plied ; " and whilst waiting for your father, with whom 
 I have an appointment, I shall be at your command." 
 
 " No, no ! " interrupted Maxence. " What I have to 
 say must be heard by you alone. Come along this way, 
 and we shall not be interrupted." 
 
 And he led M. Costeclar away as far as the Place 
 Royal. Once there, 
 
 " You are very anxious to marry my sister, sir," he 
 commenced. 
 
 During their short walk M. Costeclar had recovered 
 himself. He had resumed all his impertinent assurance. 
 Looking at Maxence from head to foot with any thing 
 but a friendly look, 
 
 " It is my dearest and my most ardent wish, sir," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Very well. But you must have noticed the very 
 slight success, to use no harsher word, of your assidui- 
 ties." 
 
 " Alas ! " 
 
 " And, perhaps, you will judge, like myself, that it 
 would be the act of a gentleman to withdraw in presence 
 of such positive repugnance ? " 
 
 An ugly smile was wandering upon M. Costeclar's 
 pale lips. 
 
 " Is it at the request of your sister, sir, that you make 
 me this communication ? "
 
 130 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Are you aware whether your sister has some in- 
 clination that may be an obstacle to the realization of my 
 hopes ? " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Excuse me ! What I say has nothing to offend. It 
 might very well be that your sister, before I had the 
 honor of being introduced to her, had already fixed her 
 choice." 
 
 He spoke so* loud, that Maxence looked sharply 
 around to see whether there was not some one within 
 hearing. He saw no one but a young man, who seemed 
 quite absorbed reading a newspaper. 
 
 " But, sir," he resumed, " what would you answer, if 
 I, the brother of the young lady whom you wish to 
 marry against her wishes, I called upon you to cease 
 your assiduities ? " 
 
 M. Costeclar bowed ceremoniously, 
 
 " I would answer you, sir," he uttered, " that your 
 father's assent is sufficient for me. My suit has nothing 
 but is honorable. Your sister may not like me : that is a 
 misfortune ; but it is not irreparable. When she knows 
 me better, I venture to hope that she will overcome her 
 unjust prejudices. Therefore I shall persist." 
 . Maxence insisted no more. He was irritated at M. 
 Costeclar's coolness ; but it was not his intention to push 
 things further. 
 
 " There will always be time," he thought, " to resort 
 to violent measures." 
 
 But when he reported this conversation to his sister, 
 
 " It is clear," he said, " that, between our father and 
 tnat man, there is a community of interests which I am 
 unable to discover. What business have they together. 
 In what respect can your marriage either help or injure
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 131 
 
 them. I must see, try and find out exactly who is this 
 Costeclar: the deuse take him! " 
 
 He started out the same day, and had not far to 
 go. 
 
 M. Costeclar was one of those personalities which only 
 bloom in Paris, and are only met in Paris, the same as 
 cab-horses, and young ladies with yellow chignons. 
 
 He knew everybody, and everybody knew him. 
 
 He was well known at the bourse, in all the principal 
 restaurants, where he called the waiters by their first 
 names, at the box-office of the theatres, at all the pool- 
 rooms, and at the European Club, otherwise called the 
 Nomadic Club, of which he was a member. 
 
 He operated at the bourse: that was sure. He was 
 said to own a third interest in a stock-broker's office. He 
 had a good deal of business with M. Jottras, of the 
 house of Jottras and Brother, and M. Saint Pavin, the 
 manager of a very popular journal, " The Financial Pi- 
 lot." 
 
 It was further known that he had, Rue Vivienne, a 
 magnificent apartment, and that he had successively 
 honored with his liberal protection Mile. Sidney of the 
 Varieties, and Mme. Jenny Fancy, a lady of a certain 
 age already, but so situated as to return to her lovers in 
 notoriety what they gave her in good money. 
 
 So much did Maxence learn without difficulty. As 
 to any more precise details, it was impossible to obtain 
 them. To his pressing questions upon M. Costeclar's 
 antecedents, 
 
 " He is a perfectly honest man," answered some. 
 
 " He is simply a speculator," affirmed others. 
 
 But all agreed that he was a " sharp one," who would 
 surely make his fortune, and without passing through 
 the police-courts, either.
 
 132 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " How can our father and such a man be so inti- 
 mately connected ? " wondered Maxence and his sister. 
 
 And they were lost in conjectures, when suddenly, at 
 an hour when he never set his foot in the house, M. Fa- 
 voral appeared. 
 
 Throwing a letter upon his daughter's lap, 
 
 " See what I have just received from Costeclar," he 
 said in a hoarse voice. " Read." 
 
 She read, " Allow me, dear friend, to release you 
 from your engagement. Owing to circumstances abso- 
 lutely beyond my control, I find myself compelled to give 
 up the honor of becoming a member of your family." 
 
 What could have happened ? 
 
 Standing in the middle of the parlor, the cashier of the 
 Mutual Credit held, bowed down beneath his glance, 
 his wife and children, Mme. Favoral trembling, Max- 
 ence starting in mute surprise, and Mile. Gilberte, who 
 needed all the strength of her will to control the explo- 
 sion of her immense joy. 
 
 Every thing in M. Favoral betrayed, nevertheless, 
 much more the excitement of a disaster than the rage of 
 a deception. 
 
 Never had his family seen him thus, livid, his cravat 
 undone, his hair wet with perspiration, and clinging to 
 his temples. 
 
 " Will you please explain this letter ? " he asked at last. 
 
 And, as no one answered him, he took up that letter 
 again from the table where Mile. Gilberte had laid it, 
 and commenced reading it again, scanning each syllable, 
 as if in hopes of discovering in each word some hidden 
 meaning. 
 
 "What did you say to Costeclar?" he resumed. 
 " what did you do to him to make him take such a de- 
 termination ? "
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 133 
 
 " Nothing," answered Maxence and Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 The hope of being at last rid of that man inspired 
 Mme. Favoral with something like courage. 
 
 " He has doubtless understood," she meekly sug- 
 gested, " that he could not triumph over our daughter's 
 repugnance." 
 
 But her husband interrupted her, 
 
 " No," he uttered, " Costeclar is not the man to 
 trouble himself about the ridiculous caprices of a little 
 girl. There is something else. But what is it ? Come, if 
 you know it, any of you, if you suspect it even, speak, 
 say it. You must see that I am in a state of fearful anx- 
 iety." 
 
 It was the first time that he thus allowed something to 
 appear of what was passing within him, the first time 
 that he ever complained. 
 
 " M. Costeclar alone, father, can give you the explana- 
 tion you ask of us," said Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 The cashier of the Mutual Credit shook his head. 
 
 " Do you suppose, then, that I have not questioned 
 him? I found his letter this morning at the office. At 
 once I ran to his apartments, Rue Vivienne. He had 
 just gone out; and it is in vain that I called for him a 
 Jottras', and at the office of ' The Financial Pilot.' 
 found him at last at the bourse, after running thret 
 hours. But I could only get from him evasive answers 
 and vague explanations. Of course he did not fail to 
 say, that, if he does withdraw, it is because he de- 
 spairs of ever succeeding in pleasing Gilberte. But it 
 isn't so: I know it; I am sure of it; I read it in 
 his eyes. Twice his lips moved as if he were about 
 to confess all ; and then he said nothing. And the more 
 I insisted, the more he seemed ill at ease, embarrassed, 
 uneasy, troubled, the more he appeared to me like a man
 
 134 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 who has been threatened, and dares not brave the 
 threat." 
 
 He directed upon his children one of those obstinate 
 looks which search the inmost depths of the conscience. 
 
 " If you have done any thing to drive him off," he 
 resumed, " confess it frankly, and I swear I will not re- 
 proach you." 
 
 " We did not." 
 
 " You did not threaten him? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 M. Favoral seemed appalled. 
 
 " Doubtless you deceive me," he said, " and I hope 
 you do. Unhappy children ! you do not know what this 
 rupture may cost you." 
 
 And, instead of returning to his office, he shut himself 
 ap in that little room which he called his study, and only 
 came out of it at about five o'clock, holding under his 
 arm an enormous bundle of papers, and saying that it 
 was useless to wait for him for dinner, as he would not 
 come home until late in the night, if he came home at 
 all, being compelled to make up for his lost day. 
 
 " What is the matter with your father, my poor chil- 
 dren?'' exclaimed Mme. Favoral. "I have never seen 
 him in such a state." 
 
 " Doubtless," replied Maxence, " the rupture with 
 Costeclar is going to break up some combination." 
 
 But that explanation did not satisfy him any more 
 than it did his mother. He, too, felt a vague apprehen- 
 sion of some impending misfortune. But what? He 
 had nothing upon which to base his conjectures. He 
 knew nothing, any more than his mother, of his father's 
 affairs, of his relations, of his interests, or even of his 
 life, outside the house. 
 
 And mother and son lost themselves in suppositions as
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 135 
 
 vain as if they had tried to find the solution of a problem, 
 without possessing its terms. 
 
 With a single word Mile. Gilberte thought she might 
 have enlightened them. 
 
 In the unerring certainty of the blow, in the crushing 
 promptness of the result, she thought she could recog- 
 nize the hand of Marius de Tregars. 
 
 She recognized the hand of the man who acts, and 
 does not talk. And the girl's pride felt flattered by this 
 victory, by this proof of the powerful energy of the man 
 whom, unknown to all, she had selected. She liked to 
 imagine Marius de Tregars and M. Costeclar in pres- 
 ence of each other, the one as imperious and haughty 
 as she had seen him meek and trembling ; the other more 
 humble still than he was arrogant with her. 
 
 " One thing is certain," she repeated to herself, " and 
 that is, I am saved." 
 
 And she wished the morrow to come, that she might 
 announce her happiness to the very involuntary and very 
 unconscious accomplice of Marius, the worthy Maestro 
 Gismondo Pulei. 
 
 The next day M. Favoral seemed to have resigned 
 himself to the failure of his projects ; and, the following 
 Saturday, he told as a pleasant joke, how Mile. Gilberte 
 had carried the day, and had managed to dismiss her 
 lover. 
 
 But a close observer could discover in him symptoms 
 of devouring cares. Deep wrinkles showed along his 
 temples; his eyes were sunken; a continued tension of 
 mini contracted his features. Often during the dinner 
 he would remain motionless for several minutes, his 
 fort aloft ; and then he would murmur, " How is it all 
 going to end ? " 
 
 Sometimes in the morning, before his departure for
 
 136 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 his office, M. Jottras, of the house of Jottras and Brother, 
 and M. Saint Pavin, the manager of " The Financial 
 Pilot," came to see him. They closeted themselves to- 
 gether, and remained for hours in conference, speaking 
 so low, that not even a vague murmur could be heard 
 outside the door. 
 
 " Your father has grave subjects of anxiety, my chil- 
 dren," said Mme. Favoral : " you may believe me, me, 
 who for twenty years have been trying to guess our fate 
 upon his countenance." 
 
 But the political events were sufficient to explain any 
 amount of anxiety. It was the second week of July, 
 1870; and the destinies of France trembled, as upon a 
 cast of the dice, in the hands of a few presumptuous in- 
 capables. Was it war with Prussia ; or was it peace, that 
 was to issue from the complications of a childishly astute 
 policy ? 
 
 The most contradictory rumors caused daily at the 
 bourse the most violent oscillations, which endangered 
 the safest fortunes. A few words uttered in a corridor 
 by fimile Ollivier had made a dozen heavy operators 
 rich, but had ruined five hundred small ones. On all 
 hands, credit was trembling. 
 
 Until one evening when he came home, 
 
 " War is declared," said M. Favoral. 
 
 It was but too true ; and no one then had any fears of 
 the result for France. They had so much exalted the 
 7 rench army, they had so often said that it was invinci- 
 
 e, that every one among the public expected a series of 
 
 ushing victories. 
 
 Alas! the first telegram announced a defeat. People 
 refused to believe it at first. But there was the evidence. 
 The soldiers had died bravely ; but the chiefs had been 
 incapable of leading them.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 137 
 
 From that time, and with a vertiginous rapidity, from 
 day to day, from hour to hour, the fatal news came 
 crowding on. Like a river that overflows its banks, 
 Prussia was overrunning France. Bazaine was sur- 
 rounded at Metz ; and the capitulation of Sedan capped 
 the climax of so many disasters. 
 
 At last, on the 4th of September, the republic was pro- 
 claimed. 
 
 On the 5th, when the Signor Gismondo Pulei pre- 
 sented himself at Rue St. Gilles, his face bore such an 
 expression of anguish, that Mile. Gilberte could not help 
 asking what was the matter. 
 
 He rose on that question, and, threatening heaven 
 with his clinched fist, 
 
 " Implacable fate does not tire to persecute me," he 
 replied. " I had overcome all obstacles : I was happy : I 
 was looking forward to a future of fortune and glory. 
 No, the dreadful war must break out." 
 
 For the worthy maestro, this terrible catastrophe was 
 but a new caprice of his own destiny. 
 
 " What has happened to you ? " inquired the young 
 girl, repressing a smile. 
 
 " It happens to me, signora, that I am about to lose my 
 beloved pupil. He leaves me; he forsakes me. In vain 
 have I thrown myself at his feet. My tears have not 
 been able to detain him. He is going to fight ; he leaves ; 
 he is a soldier ! " 
 
 Then it was given to Mile. Gilberte to see clearly 
 within her soul. Then she understood how absolutely 
 she had given herself up, and to what extent she had 
 ceased to belong to herself. 
 
 Her sensation was terrible, such as if her whole blood 
 had suddenly escaped through her open arteries. She 
 turned pale, her teeth chattered ; and she seemed so near
 
 138 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 fainting, that the Signer Gismondo sprang to the door, 
 crying, " Help, help ! she is dying." 
 
 Mme. Favoral, frightened, came running in. 
 
 But already, thanks to an all-powerful projection of 
 will, Mile. Gilberte had recovered, and, smiling a pale 
 smile, 
 
 " It's nothing, mamma," she said. "A sudden pain 
 in the head ; but it's gone already." 
 
 The worthy maestro was in perfect agony. Taking 
 Mme. Favoral aside, 
 
 " It is my fault," he said. " It is the story of my un- 
 heard-of misfortunes that has upset her thus. Mon- 
 strous egotist that I am ! I should have been careful of 
 her exquisite sensibility." 
 
 She insisted, nevertheless, upon taking her lesson as 
 usual, and recovered enough presence of mind to extract 
 from the Signer Gismondo everything that his much- 
 regretted pupil had confided to him. 
 
 That was not much. He knew that his pupil had 
 gone, like anyone else, to Rue de Cherche Midi; that 
 he had signed an engagement, and had been ordered 
 to join a regiment in process of formation near Tours. 
 
 And, as he went out, 
 
 " That is nothing," said the kind maestro to Mme. 
 Favoral. '' The signora has quite recovered, and is 
 as gay as a lark." 
 
 The signora, shut up in her room, was shedding 
 bitter tears. She tried to reason with herself, and could 
 not succeed. Never had the strangeness of her situation 
 so clearly appeared to her. She repeated to herself that 
 she must be mad to have thus become attached to a 
 stranger. She wondered how she could have allowed 
 that love, which was now her very life, to take posses-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 13$ 
 
 sion of her soul. But to what end? It no longer rested 
 with her to undo what had been done. 
 
 When she thought that Marius de Tregars was about 
 to leave Paris to become a soldier, to fight, to die per- 
 haps, she felt her head whirl; she saw nothing arounc 4 
 her but despair and chaos. 
 
 And, the more she thought, the more certain she felt 
 that Marius could not have trusted solely to the chance 
 gossip of the Signor Pulei to communicate to her his 
 determination. 
 
 'It is perfectly inadmissible," she thought. "It is im- 
 possible that he will not make an effort to see me before 
 going." 
 
 Thoroughly imbued with the idea, she wiped her eyes, 
 took a seat by an open window ; and, whilst apparently 
 busy with her work, she concentrated her whole atten- 
 tion upon the street. 
 
 There were more people out than usual. The recent 
 events had stirred Paris to its lowest depths, and, as 
 from the crater of a volcano in labor, all the social scoria' 
 rose to the surface. Men of sinister appearance left their 
 haunts, and wandered through the city. The work- 
 shops were all deserted ; and people strolled at random, 
 stupor or terror painted on their countenance. 
 
 But in vain did Mile. Gilberte seek in all this crowd 
 the one she hoped to see. The hours went by, and 
 she was getting discouraged, when suddenly, towards 
 dusk, at the corner of the Rue Turenne, 
 
 " 'Tis he," cried a voice within her. 
 
 It was, in fact, M. de Tregars. He was walking 
 towards the Boulevard, slowly, and his eyes raised. 
 
 Palpitating, the girl rose to her feet. She was in one 
 of those moments of crisis when the blood, rushing
 
 140 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to the brain, smothers all judgment. Unconscious, as 
 it were, of her acts, she leaned over the window, and 
 made a sign to Marius, which he understood very 
 well, and which meant, " Wait, I am coming down," 
 
 " Where are you going, dear ? " asked Mme. Favoral, 
 seeing Gilberte putting on her bonnet. 
 
 " To the shop, mamma, to get a shade of worsted I 
 need." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte was not in the habit of going out alone ; 
 but it happened quite often that she would go down in 
 the neighborhood on some little errand. 
 
 " Do you wish the girl to go out with you ? " asked 
 Mme. Favoral. 
 
 " Oh, it isn't worth while ! " 
 
 She ran down the stairs ; and once out, regardless of 
 the looks that might be watching her, she walked 
 straight to M. de Tregars, who was waiting on the cor- 
 ner of the Rue des Minimes. 
 
 " You are going away ? " she said, too much agitated 
 to notice his own emotion, which was, however, quite 
 evident. 
 
 " I must," he answered. 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " When France is invaded, the place for a man who 
 bears my name is where the fighting is." 
 
 "But there will be fighting in Paris too." 
 
 " Paris has four times as many defenders as it needs. 
 It is outside that soldiers will be wanted." 
 
 They walked slowly, as they spoke thus, along the 
 Rue des Minimes, one of the least frequented in Paris ; 
 and there were only to be seen at this hour five or six 
 soldiers talking in front of the barracks gate. 
 
 " Suppose I were to beg you not to go," resumed 
 Mile. Gilberte. " Suppose I beseeched you, Marius ! "
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 141 
 
 " I should remain then," he answered in a troubled 
 voice ; " but I would be betraying my duty, and failing 
 to my honor ; and remorse would weigh upon our whole 
 life. Command now, and I will obey." 
 
 They had stopped; and no one seeing them standing 
 there side by side affectionate and familiar could have 
 believed that they were speaking to each other for the 
 first time. They themselves did not notice it, so much 
 had they come, with the help of all-powerful imagina- 
 tion, and in spite of separation, to the understanding of 
 intimacy. 
 
 After a moment of painful reflection, 
 
 " I do not ask you any longer to stay," uttered the 
 young girl. 
 
 He took her hand, and raised it to his lips. 
 
 " I expected no less of your courage," he said, his 
 voice vibrating with love. 
 
 But he controlled himself, and, in a more quiet tone, 
 
 " Thanks to the indiscretion of Pulei," he added, 
 " I was in hopes of seeing you, but not to have the hap- 
 piness of speaking to you. I had written " 
 
 He drew from his pocket a large envelope, and, hand- 
 ing it to Mile. Gilberte, 
 
 " Here is the letter," he continued, " which I intended 
 for you. It contains another, which I beg you to pre- 
 serve carefully, and not to open unless I do not return. 
 I leave you in Paris a devoted friend, the Count de Vil- 
 legre. Whatever may happen to you, apply to him with 
 all confidence, as you would to myself." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte, staggering, leaned against the wall. 
 
 " When do you expect to leave ? " she inquired. 
 
 " This very night. Communications may be cut off 
 at any moment." 
 
 Admirable in her sorrow, but also full of energy,
 
 142 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the poor girl looked up, and held out her hand to 
 him. 
 
 " Go then," she said, " O my only friend ! go, since 
 honor commands. But do not forget that it is not your 
 life alone that you are going to risk." 
 
 And, fearing to burst into sobs, she fled, and reached 
 the Rue St. Gilles a few moments before her father, 
 who had gone out in quest of news. 
 
 Those he brought home were of the most sinister 
 kind. 
 
 Like the rising tide, the Prussians spread and ad- 
 vanced, slowly, but steadily. Their marches were 
 numbered ; and the day and hour could be named when 
 their flood would come and strike the walls of Paris. 
 
 And so, at all the railroad stations, there was a prodi- 
 gious rush of people who wished to leave at any cost, 
 in any way, in the baggage-car if needs be, and who 
 certainly were not, like Marius, rushing to meet the 
 enemy. 
 
 One after another, M. Favoral had seen nearly every 
 one he knew take flight. 
 
 The Baron and Baroness de Thaller and their daugh- 
 ter had gone to Switzerland ; M. Costeclar was travel- 
 ling in Belgium ; the elder Jottras was in England, buy- 
 ing guns and cartrdges; and if the younger Jottras, 
 with M. Saint Pavin of "The Financial Pilot," re- 
 mained in Paris, it was because, through the gallant in- 
 fluence of a lady whose name was not mentioned, they 
 had obtained some valuable contracts from the govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The perplexities of the cashier of the Mutual Credit 
 were great. The day that the Baron and the Baroness 
 de Thaller had left,- 
 
 " Pack up our trunks," he ordered his wife. " The
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 143 
 
 bourse is going to close ; and the Mutual Credit can very 
 well get along without me." 
 
 But the next day he became undecided again. What 
 Mile. Gilberte thought she could guess, was, that he was 
 dying to start alone, and leave his family, but dared 
 not do it. He hesitated so long, that at last, one even- 
 ing 
 
 " You may unpack the trunks," he said to his wife. 
 " Paris is invested ; and no one can now leave." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 IN fact, the news had just come, that the Western 
 Railroad, the last one that had remained open, was now 
 cut off. 
 
 Paris was invested ; and so rapid had been the invest- 
 ment, that it could hardly be believed. 
 
 People went in crowds on all the culminating points, 
 the hills of Montmartre, and the heights of the Troca- 
 dero. Telescopes had been erected there; and every 
 one was anxious to scan the horizon, and look for the 
 Prussians. 
 
 But nothing could be discovered. The distant fields 
 retained their quiet and smiling aspect under the mild 
 rays pf the autumn sun. 
 
 So that it really required quite an effort of imagi- 
 nation to realize the sinister fact, to understand that 
 Paris, with its two millions of inhabitants, was indeed 
 cut off from the world and separated from the rest of 
 France, by an insurmountable circle of steel. 
 
 Doubt, and something like a vague hope, could be 
 traced in the tone of the people who met on the streets, 
 saying,
 
 i 4 4 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Well, it's all over : we can't leave any more. Let- 
 ters, even, cannot pass. No more news, eh ? " 
 
 But the next day, which was the I9th of September, 
 the most incredulous were convinced. 
 
 For the first time Paris shuddered at the hoarse 
 voice of the cannon, thundering on the heights of 
 Chatillon. The siege of Paris, that siege without ex- 
 ample in history, had commenced. 
 
 The life of the Favorals during these interminable 
 days of anguish and suffering, was that of a hundred 
 thousand other families. 
 
 Incorporated in the battalion of his ward, the cashier 
 of the Mutual Credit went off two or three times a 
 week, as well as all his neighbors, to mount guard on 
 the ramparts, a useless service perhaps, but which 
 those that performed it did not look upon as such, a 
 very arduous service, at any rate, for poor merchants, 
 accustomed to the comforts of their shops, or the quiet 
 of their offices. 
 
 To be sure, there was nothing heroic in tramping 
 through the mud, in receiving the rain or the snow upon 
 the back, in sleeping on the ground or on dirty straw, 
 in remaining on guard with the thermometer twenty 
 degrees below the freezing-point. But people die of 
 pleurisy quite as certainly as of a Prussian bullet; and 
 many died of it. 
 
 Maxence showed himself but rarely at Rue St. Gilles : 
 enlisted in a battalion of sharpshooters, he did duty 
 at the advanced posts. And, as to Mme. Favoral and 
 Mile. Gilberte, they spent the day trying to get some- 
 thing to live on. Rising before daylight, through rain 
 or snow, they took their stand before the butcher's stall, 
 and, after waiting for hours, received a small slice of 
 horse-meat.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 145 
 
 Alone in the evening, by the side of the hearth where 
 a few pieces of green wood smoked without burning, 
 they started at each of the distant reports of the cannon. 
 At each detonation that shook the window-panes, Mme, 
 Favoral thought that it was, perhaps, the one that had 
 killed her son. 
 
 And Mile. Gilberte was thinking of Marius de Tre- 
 gars. The accursed days of November and December 
 had come. There were constant rumors of bloody 
 battles around Orleans. She imagined Marius, mor- 
 tally wounded, expiring on the snow, alone, without 
 help, and without a friend to receive his supreme will 
 and his last breath. 
 
 One evening the vision was so clear, and the impres- 
 sion so strong, that she started up with a loud cry. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Mme. Favoral, alarmed. 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 With a little perspicacity, the worthy woman could 
 easily have obtained her daughter's secret ; for Mile. 
 Gilberte was not in condition to deny anything. But 
 she contented herself with an explanation which meant 
 nothing, and had not a suspicion, when the girl an- 
 swered with a forced smile, 
 
 " It's nothing, dear mother, nothing but an absurd 
 idea that crossed my mind." 
 
 Strange to say, never had the cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit been for his family what he was during these 
 months of trials. 
 
 During the first weeks of the siege he had been 
 anxious, agitated, nervous; he wandered through the 
 house like a soul in trouble ; he had moments of incon- 
 ceivable prostration, during which tears could be seen 
 rolling down upon his cheeks, and then fits of anger 
 without motive.
 
 146 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 But each day that elapsed had seemed to bring calm to 
 his soul. Little by little, he had become to his wife so 
 indulgent and so affectionate, that the poor helot felt 
 her heart touched. He had for his daughter attentions 
 which caused her to wonder. 
 
 Often, when the weather was fine, he took them out 
 walking, leading them along the quays towards a part 
 of the walls occupied by the battalion of their ward. 
 Twice he took them to St. Onen, where the sharp- 
 shooters were encamped to which Maxence belonged. 
 
 Another day he wished to take them to visit M. de 
 Thaller's house, of which he had charge. They refused, 
 and instead of getting angry, as he certainly would 
 have done formerly, he commenced describing to them 
 the splendors of the apartments, the magnificent furni- 
 ture, the carpets and the hangings, the paintings by the 
 great masters, the objects of arts, the bronzes, in a word, 
 all that dazzling luxury of which financiers make use, 
 somewhat as hunters do of the mirror with which larks 
 are caught. 
 
 Of business, nothing was ever said. 
 
 He went every morning as far as the office of the 
 Mutual Credit ; but, as he said, it was solely as a matter 
 of form. Once in a long while, M. Saint Pavin and 
 the younger Jottras paid a visit to the Rue St. Gilles. 
 They had suspended, the one the payments of his 
 banking house ; the other, the publication of " The 
 Financial Pilot." 
 
 But they were not idle for all that ; and, in the midst 
 of the public distress, they still managed to speculate 
 upon something, no one knew what, and to realize 
 profits. 
 
 They rallied pleasantly the fools who had faith in the 
 defence, and imitated in the most laughable manner
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 147 
 
 the appearance, under their soldier's coat, of three or 
 four of their friends who had joined the marching 
 battalions. They boasted that they had no privations 
 to endure, and always knew where to find the fresh 
 butter wherewith to dress the large slices of beef which 
 they possessed the art of finding. Mme. Favoral 
 heard them laugh; and M. Saint Pavin, the manager 
 of " The Financial Pilot,'' exclaimed, 
 
 " Come, come ! we would be fools to complain. It is 
 a general liquidation, without risks and without costs." 
 
 Their mirth had something revolting in it; for it 
 was now the last and most acute period of the siege. 
 
 At the beginning the greatest optimists hardly 
 thought that Paris could hold out longer than six weeks. 
 And now the investment had lasted over four months. 
 The population was reduced to nameless articles of food. 
 The supply of bread had failed ; the wounded, for lack 
 of a little soup, died in the ambulances ; old people and 
 children perished by the hundred; on the left bank the 
 shells came down thick and fast, the weather was in- 
 tensely cold, and there was no more fuel. 
 
 And yet no one complained. From the midst of that 
 population of two millions of inhabitants, not one voice 
 rose to beg for their comfort, their health, their life even, 
 at the cost of a capitulation. 
 
 Clear-sighted men had never hoped that Paris alone 
 could compel the raising of the siege ; but they thought, 
 that by holding out, and keeping the Prussians under its 
 walls, Paris would give to France time to rise, to or- 
 ganize armies, and to rush upon the enemy. There was 
 the duty of Paris; and Paris was toiling to fulfil it to 
 the utmost limits of possibility, reckoning as a victory 
 each day that it gained. 
 
 Unfortunately, all this suffering was to be in vain.
 
 148 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 The fatal hour struck, when, supplies being exhausted, 
 it became necessary to surrender. 
 
 During three days the Prussians camped in the 
 Champs Elysees, gazing with longing eyes upon that 
 city, object of their most eager desires, that Paris 
 within which, victorious though they were, they had not 
 dared to venture. Then, soon after, communications 
 were reopened ; and one morning, as he received a letter 
 from Switzerland, 
 
 "It is from the Baron de Thaller ! " exclaimed M. 
 Favoral. 
 
 Exactly so. The manager of the Mutual Credit was 
 a prudent man. Pleasantly situated in Switzerland, 
 he was in nowise anxious to return to Paris before being 
 quite certain that he had no risks to run. 
 
 Upon receiving M. Favoral's assurances to that ef- 
 fect, he started ; and, almost at the same time the elder 
 Jottras and M. Costeclar made their appearance. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 IT was a curious spectacle, the return of those braves 
 for whom Parisian slang had invented the new and 
 significant expression of franc-fileur. 
 
 They were not so proud then as they have been since. 
 Feeling rather embarrassed in the midst of a population 
 still quivering with the emotions of the siege, they had 
 at least the good taste to try and find pretexts for their 
 absence. 
 
 " I was cut off," affirmed the Baron de Thaller. " I 
 had gone to Switzerland to place my wife and daughter 
 in safety. When I came back, good-by! the Prussians 
 had closed the doors. For more than a week, I
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 149 
 
 wandered around Paris, trying to find an opening. I 
 became suspected of being a spy. I was arrested. A 
 little more, and I was shot dead ! " 
 
 "As to myself," declared M. Costeclar, " I foresaw 
 exactly what has happened. I knew that it was outside, 
 to organize armies of relief, that men would be wanted. 
 I went to offer my services to the government of de- 
 fence; and everybody in Bordeaux saw me booted and 
 spurred, and ready to leave." 
 
 He was consequently soliciting the Cross of the Le- 
 gion of Honor, and was not without hopes of obtaining 
 it through the all-gowerful influence of his financial 
 connections. 
 
 " Didn't So-and-so get it? " he replied to objections. 
 And he named this or that individual whose feats of 
 arms consisted principally in having exhibited them- 
 selves in uniforms covered with gold lace to the very 
 shoulders. 
 
 " But I am the man who deserves it most, that cross," 
 insisted the younger M. Jottras ; " for I, at least, have 
 rendered valuable services." 
 
 And he went on telling how, after searching for arms 
 all over England, he had sailed for New York, where he 
 had purchased any number of guns and cartridges, and 
 even some batteries of artillery. 
 
 This last journey had been very wearisome to him, he 
 added and yet he did not regret it ; for it had furnished 
 him an opportunity to study on the spot the financial 
 morals of America; and he had returned with ideas 
 enough to make the fortune of three or four stock com- 
 panies with twenty millions of capital. 
 
 " Ah, those Americans ! " he exclaimed. " They are 
 the men who understand business! We are but chil- 
 dren by the side of them."
 
 150 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 It was through M. Chapelain, the Desclavettes, and 
 old Desormeaux, that these news reached the Rue St. 
 Gilles. 
 
 It was also through Maxence, whose battalion had 
 been dissolved, and who, whilst waiting for somethirAg 
 better, had accepted a clerkship in the office of the 
 Orleans Railway, where he earned two hundred francs a 
 month. For M. Favoral saw and heard nothing that 
 was going on around him. He was wholly absorbed 
 in his business: he left earlier, came home later, and 
 hardly allowed himself time to eat and drink. 
 
 He told all his friends that business was looking up 
 again in the most unexpected manner; that there were 
 fortunes to be made by those who could command 
 ready cash ; and that it was necessary to make up for lost 
 time. 
 
 He pretended that the enormous indemnity to be paid 
 to the Prussians would necessitate an enormous move- 
 ment of capital, financial combinations, a loan, and that 
 so many millions could not be handled without allowing 
 a few little millions to fall into intelligent pockets. 
 
 Dazzled by the mere enumeration of those fabulous 
 sums, " I should not be a bit surprised," said the others, 
 " to see Favoral double and treble his fortune. What 
 a famous match his daughter will be ! " 
 
 Alas! never had Mile. Gilberte felt in her heart so 
 much hatred and disgust for that money, the only 
 thought, the sole subject of conversation, of those 
 around her, for that cursed money which had risen 
 like an insurmountable obstacle between Marius and 
 herself. 
 
 For two weeks past, the communications had been 
 completely restored ; and there was as yet no sign of 
 M. de Tregars. It was with the most violent palpita-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 151 
 
 tions of her heart that she awaited each day the hour 
 of the Signer Gismondo Pulei's lesson : and more pain- 
 ful each time became her anguish when she heard him 
 exclaim, 
 
 " Nothing, not a line, not a word. The pupil has for- 
 gotten his old master ! " 
 
 But Mile. Gilberte knew well that Marius did not 
 forget. Her blood froze in her veins when she read in 
 the papers the interminable list of those poor soldiers 
 who had succumbed during the invasion, the more for- 
 tunate ones under Prussian bullets ; the others along the 
 roads, in the mud or in the snow, of cold, of fatigue, 
 of suffering and of want. 
 
 She could not drive from her mind the memory of 
 that lugubrious vision which had so much frightened 
 her ; and she was asking herself whether it was not one 
 of those inexplicable presentiments, of which there are 
 examples, which announce the death of a beloved 
 person. 
 
 Alone at night in her little room, Mile. Gilberte with- 
 drew from the hiding-place, where she kept it preciously, 
 that package which Marius had confiaed to her, recom- 
 mending her not to open it until she was sure that he 
 would not return. It was very voluminous, enclosed 
 in an envelope of thick paper, sealed with red wax, bear- 
 ing the arms of Tregars ; and she had often wondered 
 what it could possibly contain. And now she shud- 
 dered at the thought that she had perhaps the right to 
 open it. 
 
 And she had no one of whom she could ask for a 
 word of hope. She was compelled to hide her tears, 
 and to put on a smile. She was compelled to invent 
 pretexts for those who expressed their wonder at see- 
 ing her exquisite beauty withering in the bud, for her
 
 452 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 mother, whose anxiety was without limit, when she saw 
 her thus pale, her eyes inflamed, and undermined by a 
 continuous fever. 
 
 True, Marius, on leaving, had left her a friend, the 
 Count de Villegre ; and, if any one knew any thing, he 
 certainly did. But she could see no way of hearing 
 from him without risking her secret. Write to him? 
 Nothing was easier, since she had his address, Rue 
 Turenne. But where could she ask him to direct his 
 answer? Rue St. Gilles? Impossible! True, she 
 might go to him, or make an appointment in the neigh- 
 borhood. But how could she escape, even for an hour, 
 without exciting Mme. Favoral's suspicions? 
 
 Sometimes it occurred to her to confide in Maxence, 
 who was laboring with admirable constancy to redeem 
 his past. 
 
 But what ! must she, then, confess the truth, confess 
 that she, Gilberte, had lent her ears to the words of a 
 stranger, met by chance in the street, and that she 
 looked forward to no happiness in life save through 
 him? She dared not. She could not take upon her- 
 self to overcome the shame of such a situation. 
 
 She was on the verge of despair, the day when the 
 Signer Pulei arrived radiant, exclaiming from the very 
 threshold, " I have news ! " 
 
 And at once, without surprise at the awful emotion 
 of the girl, which he attributed solely to the interest 
 she felt for him, him Gismondo Pulei, he went on, 
 
 " I did not get them direct, but through a respectable 
 signer with long mustaches, and a red ribbon at his 
 buttonhole, who, having received a letter from my 
 dear pupil, has deigned to come to my room, and read 
 it to me." 
 
 The worthy maestro had not forgotten a single word
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 153 
 
 of that letter ; and it was almost literally that he re- 
 peated it. 
 
 Six weeks after having enlisted, his pupil had been 
 promoted corporal, then sergeant, then lieutenant. He 
 had fought in all the battles of the army of the Loire 
 without receiving a scratch. But at the battle of the 
 Maus, whilst leading back his men, who were giving 
 way, he had been shot twice, full in the breast. Carried 
 dying into an ambulance, he had lingered three weeks 
 between life and death, having lost all consciousness of 
 self. Twenty-four hours after, he had recovered his 
 senses ; and he took the first opportunity to recall him- 
 self to the affection of his friends. All danger was over, 
 he suffered scarcely any more; and they promised him, 
 that, within a month, he would be up, and able to re- 
 turn to Paris. 
 
 For the first time in many weeks Mile. Gilberte 
 breathed freely. But she would have been greatly 
 surprised, had she been told that a day was drawing 
 near when she would bless those wounds which detained 
 Marius upon a hospital cot. And yet it was so. 
 
 Mme. Favoral and her daughter were alone, one 
 evening, at the house, when loud clamors arose from the 
 street, in the midst of which could be heard drunken 
 voices yelling the refrains of revolutionary songs, ac- 
 companied by continuous rumbling sounds. They ran 
 to the window. The National Guards had just taken 
 possession of the cannon deposited in the Place Royale. 
 The reign of the Commune was commencing. 
 
 In less than forty-eight hours, people came to regret 
 the worst days of the siege. Without leaders, without 
 direction, the honest men had lost their heads. All the 
 braves who had returned at the time of the armistice 
 had again taken flight. Soon people had to hide or to
 
 fly to avoid being incorporated in the battalions of the 
 Commune. Night and day, around the walls, the 
 fusillade rattled, and the artillery thundered. 
 
 Again M. Favoral had given up going to his office. 
 What's the use? Sometimes, with a singular look, he 
 would say to his wife and children, 
 
 " This time it is indeed a liquidation. Paris is lost ! " 
 
 And indeed they thought so, when at the hour of the 
 supreme struggle, among the detonations of the cannon 
 and the explosion of the shells; they felt their house 
 shaking to its very foundations; when in the midst of 
 the night they saw their apartment as brilliantly lighted 
 as at mid-day by the flames which were consuming the 
 Hotel de Ville and the houses around the Place de la 
 Bastille. And, in fact, the rapid action of the troops 
 alone saved Paris from destruction. 
 
 But towards the end of the following week, matters 
 had commenced to quiet down; and Gilberte learned 
 the return of Marius. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " AT last it has been given to my eyes to contemplate 
 him, and to my arms to press him against my heart ! " 
 
 It was in these terms that the old Italian master, all 
 vibrating with enthusiasm, and with his most terrible 
 accent, announced to Mile. Gilberte that he had just seen 
 that famous pupil from whom he expected both glory 
 and fortune. 
 
 " But how weak he is still ! " he added, " and suffer- 
 ing from his wounds. I hardly recognized him, he has 
 grown so pale and so thin." 
 
 But the girl was listening to him no more. A flood of
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 155 
 
 life filled her heart. This moment made her forget all 
 her troubles and all her anguish. 
 
 " And I too," thought she, " shall see him again to- 
 day." 
 
 And, with the unerring instinct of the woman who 
 loves, she calculated the moment when Marius would 
 appear in Rue St. Gilles. It would probably be about 
 nightfall, like the first time, before leaving ; that is, about 
 eight o'clock, for the days just then were about the long- 
 est in the year. Now it so happened, that, on that very 
 day and hour, Mile. Gilberte expected to be alone at 
 home. It was understood that her mother would, after 
 dinner, call on Mme. Desclavettes, who was in bed, half 
 dead of the fright she had had during the last convul- 
 sions of the Commune. She would therefore be free, 
 and would not need to invent a pretext to go out for a 
 few moments. She could not help, however, but feel 
 that this was a bold and most venturesome step for her 
 to take; and, when her mother went out, she had not 
 yet fully decided what to do. But her bonnet was 
 within reach, and Marius' letter was in her pocket. She 
 went to sit at the window. The street was solitary and 
 silent as of old. Night was coming; and heavy black 
 clouds floated over Paris. The heat was overpowering: 
 there was not a breath of air. 
 
 One by one, as the hour was approaching when she 
 expected to see Marius, the hesitations of the young 
 girl vanished like smoke. She feared but one thing, 
 that he would not come, or that he may already have 
 come and left, without succeeding in seeing her. 
 
 Already did the objects become less distinct ; and the 
 gas was being lit in the back-shops, when she recognized 
 him on the other side of the street. He looked up as he 
 went by; and, without stopping, he addressed her a
 
 156 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 rapid gesture, which she alone could understand, and 
 which meant, " Come, I beseech you ! " 
 
 Her heart beating loud enough to be heard, Mile. Gil- 
 berte ran down the stairs. But it was only when she 
 found herself in the street that she could appreciate the 
 magnitude of the risk she was running. Concierges and 
 shopkeepers were all sitting in front of their doors, tak- 
 ing the fresh air. All knew her. Would they not be sur- 
 prised to see her out alone at such an hour? Twenty 
 steps in front of her she could see Marius. But he had 
 understood the danger; for, instead of turning the cor- 
 ner of the Rue des Minimes, he followed the Rue St. 
 Gilles straight, and only stopped on the other side of the 
 Boulevard. 
 
 Then only did Mile. Gilberte join him ; and she could 
 not withhold an exclamation, when she saw that he 
 was as pale as death, and scarcely able to stand and to 
 walk. 
 
 " How imprudent of you to have returned so soon ! " 
 she said. 
 
 A little blood came to M. de Tregars' cheeks. His 
 face brightened up, and, in a voice quivering with sup- 
 pressed passion, 
 
 " It would have been more imprudent still to stay 
 away," he uttered. " Far from you, I felt myself dying." 
 
 They were both leaning against the door of a closed 
 shop ; and they were as alone in the midst of the throng 
 that circulated on the Boulevards, busy looking at the 
 fearful wrecks of the Commune. 
 
 " And besides/' added Marius, " have I, then, a min- 
 ute to lose ? I asked you for three years. Fifteen months 
 have gone, and I am no better off than on the first day. 
 When this accursed war broke out, all my arrange- 
 ments were made. I was certain to rapidly accumulate
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 157 
 
 a sufficient fortune to enable me to ask for your hand 
 without being refused. Whereas now " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Now every thing is changed. The future is so un- 
 certain, that no one wishes to venture their capital. Mar- 
 colet himself, who certainly does not lack boldness, and 
 who believes firmly in the success of our enterprise, was 
 telling me yesterday, ' There is nothing to be done just 
 now : we must wait.' ): 
 
 There was in his voice such an intensity of grief, that 
 the girl felt the tears coming to her eyes. 
 
 " We will wait then," she said, attempting to smile. 
 
 But M. de Tregars shook his head. 
 
 " Is it possible ? " he said. " Do you, then, think that 
 I do not know what a life you lead ? " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte looked up. 
 
 " Have I ever complained? " she asked proudly? 
 
 " No. Your mother and yourself, you have always 
 religiously kept the secret of your tortures ; and it was 
 only a providential accident that revealed them to me. 
 But I learned every thing at last. I know that she whom 
 I love exclusively and with all the power of my soul is 
 subjected to the most odious despotism, insulted, and 
 condemned to the most humiliating privations. And I, 
 who would give my life for her a thousand times over, 
 I can do nothing for her. Money raises between us such 
 an insuperable obstacle, that my love is actually an of- 
 fence. To hear from her, I am driven to accept accom- 
 plices. If I obtain from her a few moments of conversa- 
 tion, I run the risk of compromising her maidenly repu- 
 tation." 
 
 Deeply affected by his emotion 
 
 " At least," said Mile. Gilberte, " you succeeded in 
 delivering me from M. Costeclar."
 
 158 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Yes, I was fortunately able to find weapons against 
 that scoundrel. But can I find some against all others 
 that may offer ? Your father is very rich ; and the men 
 are numerous for whom marriage is but a speculation 
 like any other." 
 
 " Would you doubt me ? " 
 
 " Ah, rather would I doubt myself ! But I know what 
 cruel trials your refusal to marry M. Costeclar imposed 
 upon you : I know what a merciless struggle you had to 
 sustain. Another pretender may come, and then No, 
 no, you see that we cannot wait." 
 
 " What would you do? " 
 
 " I know not. I have not yet decided upon my future 
 course. And yet Heaven knows what have been the la- 
 bors of my mind during that long month I have just 
 spent upon an ambulance-bed, that month during 
 which you were my only thought. Ah ! when I think of 
 it, I cannot find words to curse the recklessness with 
 which I disposed of my fortune." 
 
 As if she had heard a blasphemy, the young girl drew 
 back a step. 
 
 " It is impossible," she exclaimed, " that you should 
 regret having paid what your father owed." 
 
 A bitter smile contracted M. de Tregars' lips. 
 
 " And suppose I were to tell you," he replied, " that 
 my father in reality owed nothing ? " 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Suppose I told you they took from him his entire 
 fortune, over two millions, as audaciously as a pick- 
 pocket robs a man of his handkerchief ? Suppose I told 
 you, that, in his loyal simplicity, he was but a man of 
 straw in the hands of skilful knaves? Have you for- 
 gotten what you once heard the Count de Villegre say ? " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte had forgotten nothing.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 159 
 
 " The Count cle Villgre," she replied, " pretended that 
 it was time enough still to compel the men who had 
 robbed your father to disgorge." 
 
 " Exactly ! " exclaimed Marius. " And now I am de- 
 termined to make them disgorge." 
 
 In the mean time night had quite come. Lights ap- 
 peared in the shop-windows; and along the line of the 
 Boulevard the gas-lamps were being lit. Alarmed by 
 this sudden illumination, M. de Tregars drew off Mile. 
 Gilberte to a more obscure spot, by the stairs that lead 
 to the Rue Amelot ; and there, leaning against the iron 
 railing, he went on, 
 
 " Already, at the time of my father's death, I sus- 
 pected the abominable tricks of which he was the victim. 
 I thought it unworthy of me to verify my suspicions. I 
 was alone in the world : my wants were few. I was fully 
 convinced that my researches would give me, within a 
 brief time, a much larger fortune than the one I gave up. 
 I found something noble and grand, and which flattered 
 my vanity, in thus abandoning every thing, without dis- 
 cussion, without litigation, and consummating my ruin 
 with a single dash of my pen. Among my friends the 
 Count de Villegre alone had the courage to tell me that 
 this was a guilty piece of folly; that the silence of the 
 dupes is the strength of the knaves ; that my indifference, 
 which made the rascals rich, would make them laugh 
 too. I replied that I did not wish to see the name of 
 Tregars dragged into court in a scandalous law-suit, and 
 that to preserve a dignified silence was to honor my fa- 
 ther's memory. Treble fool that I was ! The only way to 
 honor my father's memory was to avenge him, to wrest 
 his spoils from the scoundrels who had caused his death. 
 I see it clearly to-day. But, before undertaking any 
 thing, I wished to consult you."
 
 160 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Mile. Gilberte was listening with the most intense at- 
 tention. She had come to mingle so completely in her 
 thoughts her future life and that of M. de Tregars, that 
 she saw nothing unusual in the fact of his consulting her 
 upon matters affecting their prospects, and of seeing 
 herself standing there deliberating with him. 
 
 " You will require proofs," she suggested. 
 
 " I have none, unfortunately," replied M. de Tregars ; 
 " at least, none sufficiently positive, and such as are re- 
 quired by courts of justice. But I think I may find them. 
 My former suspicions have become a certainty. The 
 same good luck that enabled me to deliver you of M. 
 Costeclar's persecutions, also placed in my hands the 
 most valuable information." 
 
 " Then you must act," uttered Mile. Gilberte reso- 
 lutely. 
 
 Marius hesitated for a moment, as if seeking expres- 
 sion to convey what he had still to say. Then, 
 
 "It is my duty," he proceeded, "to 'conceal nothing 
 from you. The task is a heavy one. The obscure 
 schemers of ten years ago have become big financiers, 
 intrenched behind their money-bags as behind an im- 
 pregnable fort. Formerly isolated, they have managed 
 to gather around them powerful interests, accomplices 
 high in office, and friends whose commanding situation 
 protects them. Having succeeded, they are absolved. 
 They have in their favor what is called public considera- 
 tion, that idiotic thing which is made up of the ad- 
 miration of the fools, the approbation of the knaves, and 
 the concert of all interested vanities. When they pass, 
 their horses at full trot, their carriage raising a cloud 
 of dust, insolent, impudent, swelled with the vulgar 
 fatuity of wealth, people bow to the ground, and say, 
 ' Those are smart fellows ! ' And in fact, yes, skill or
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 161 
 
 luck, they have hitherto avoided the police-courts where 
 so many others have come to grief. Those who despise 
 them fear them, and shake hands with them. More- 
 over, they are rich enough not to steal any more them- 
 selves. They have employes to do that. I take Heaven 
 to witness that never until lately had the idea come to me 
 to disturb in their possession the men who robbed my 
 father. Alone, what need had I of money ? Later, O my 
 friend! I thought I could succeed in conquering the 
 fortune I needed to obtain your hand. You had prom- 
 ised to wait; and I was happy to think that I should 
 owe you to my sole exertions. Events have crushed my 
 hopes. I am to-day compelled to acknowledge that all 
 my efforts would be in vain. To wait would be to run 
 the risk of losing you. Therefore I hesitate no longer. 
 I want what's mine: I wish to recover that of which I 
 have been robbed. Whatever I may do, for, alas ! I 
 know not to what I may be driven, what role I may have 
 to play, remember that of all my acts, of all my 
 thoughts, there will not be a single one that does not 
 aim to bring nearer the blessed day when you shall be- 
 come my wife." 
 
 There was in his voice so much unspeakable affection, 
 that the young girl could hardly restrain her tears. 
 
 " Never, whatever may happen, shall I doubt you, 
 Marius," she uttered. 
 
 He took her hands, and, pressing them passionately 
 within his, 
 
 " And I," he exclaimed, " I swear, that, sustained by 
 the thought of you, there is no disgust that I will not 
 overcome, no obstacle that I will not overthrow." 
 
 He spoke so loud, that two or three persons stopped. 
 He noticed it, and was brought suddenly from sentiment 
 to the reality,
 
 i6a OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Wretches that we are," he said in a low voice, and 
 very fast, " we forget what this interview may cost 
 us!" 
 
 And he led Mile. Gilberte across the Boulevard ; and, 
 whilst making their way to the Rue St. Gilles, through 
 the deserted streets, 
 
 " It is a dreadful imprudence we have just commit- 
 ted," resumed M. de Tregars. " But it was indispensa- 
 ble that we should see each other; and we had not the 
 choice of means. Now, and for a long time, we shall be 
 separated. Every thing you wish me to know, say it to 
 that worthy Gismondo, who repeats faithfully to me 
 every word you utter. Through him, also, you shall 
 hear from me. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fri- 
 days, about nightfall, I shall pass by your house; and, 
 if I am lucky enough to have a glimpse of you, I shall 
 return home fired with fresh energy. Should any thing 
 extraordinary happen, beckon to me, and I'll wait for 
 you in the Rue des Minimes. But this is an expedient 
 to which we must only resort in the last extremity. I 
 should never forgive myself, were I to compromise your 
 fair name." 
 
 They had reached the Rue St. Gilles. Marius stopped. 
 
 " We must part," he began. 
 
 But then only Mile. Gilberte remembered M. de Tre- 
 gars' letter, which she had in her pocket. Taking it out, 
 and handing it to him, 
 
 " Here," she said, " is the package you deposited with 
 me." 
 
 " No," he answered, repelling her gently, " keep that 
 letter : it must never be opened now, except by the Mar- 
 quise de Tregars." 
 
 And raising her hand to his lips, and in a deeply agi- 
 tated voice,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 163 
 
 " Farewell ! " he murmured. " Have courage, and 
 have hope." 
 
 XXL 
 
 MLLE. GILBERTE was soon far away; and Marius de 
 Tregars remained motionless at the corner of the street, 
 following her with his eyes through the darkness. 
 
 She was walking fast, staggering over the rough 
 pavement. Leaving Harms, she fell back upon the 
 earth from the height of her dreams. The deceiving illu- 
 sion had vanished, and, returned to the world of sad re- 
 ality, she was seized with anxiety. 
 
 How long had she been out? She knew not, and 
 found it impossible to reckon. But it was evidently 
 getting late; for some of the shops were already 
 closing. 
 
 Meantime, she had reached the house. Stepping back, 
 and looking up, she saw that there was light in the par- 
 lor. 
 
 " Mother has returned," she thought, trembling with 
 apprehension. 
 
 She hurried up, nevertheless ; and, just as she reached 
 the landing, Mme. Favoral opened the door, preparing 
 to go down. 
 
 " At last you are restored to me ! " exclaimed the poor 
 mother, whose sinister apprehensions were revealed by 
 that single exclamation. " I was going out to look for 
 you at random, in the streets, anywhere." 
 
 And, drawing her daughter within the parlor, she 
 clasped her in her arms with convulsive tenderness, ex- 
 claiming, 
 
 " Where were you ? Where do you come from ? Do 
 you know that it is after nine o'clock ? "
 
 164 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Such had been Mile. Gilberte's state of mind during 
 the whole of that evening, that she had not even thought 
 of finding a pretext to justify her absence. Now it was 
 too late. Besides, what explanation would have been 
 plausible ? Instead, therefore, of answering, 
 
 " Why, dear mother," she said with a forced smile, 
 " has it not happened to me twenty times to go out in the 
 neighborhood ? " 
 
 But Mme. Favoral's confiding credulity existed no 
 longer. 
 
 " I have been blind, Gilberte," she interrupted ; " but 
 this time my eyes must open to evidence. There is in 
 your life a mystery, something extraordinary, which I 
 dare not try to guess." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte drew herself up, and, looking her 
 mother straight in the eyes, with her beautiful, clear 
 glance, 
 
 " Would you suspect me of something wrong, then ? " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 Mme. Favoral stopped her with a gesture. 
 
 " A young girl who conceals something from her 
 mother always does wrong," she uttered. " It is a long 
 while since I have had for the first time the presentiment 
 that you were hiding something from me. But, when I 
 questioned you, you succeeded in quieting my suspi- 
 cions. You have abused my confidence and my weak- 
 ness." 
 
 This reproach was the most cruel that could be ad- 
 dressed to Mile. Gilberte. The blood rushed to her 
 face, and, in a firm voice, 
 
 " Well, yes," said she : " I have a secret." 
 
 "Dear me!" 
 
 " And, if I did not confide it to you, it is because it is 
 also the s a r:ret of another. Yes, I confess it, T have been
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 165 
 
 imprudent in the extreme; I have stepped beyond all 
 the limits of propriety and social custom; I have ex- 
 posed myself to the worst calumnies. But never, I 
 swear it, never have I done any thing of which my 
 conscience can reproach me, nothing that I have to blush 
 for, nothing that I regret, nothing that I am not ready 
 to do again to-morrow." 
 
 "Gilberte!" 
 
 " I said nothing, 'tis true ; but it was my duty. Alone 
 I had to suffer the responsibility of my acts. Having 
 alone freely engaged my future, I wished to bear alone 
 the weight of my anxiety. I should never have forgiven 
 myself for having added this new care to all your other 
 sorrows." 
 
 Mme. Favoral stood dismayed. Big tears rolled down 
 her withered cheeks. 
 
 " Don't you see, then," she stammered, " that all my 
 past suffering is as nothing compared to what I endure 
 to-day? Good heavens! what have I ever done to de- 
 serve so many trials? Am I to be spared none of the 
 troubles of this world? And it is through my own 
 daughter that I am the most cruelly stricken ! " 
 
 This was more than Mile. Gilberte could bear. Her 
 heart was breaking at the sight of her mother's tears, 
 that angel of meekness and resignation. Throwing her 
 arms around her neck, and kissing her on the eyes, 
 
 " .Mother," she murmured, " adored mother, I beg 
 of you do not weep thus ! Speak to me ! What do you 
 wish me to do?" 
 
 Gently the poor woman drew back. 
 
 " Tell me the truth," she answered. 
 
 Was it not certain that this was the very thing she 
 would ask ; in fact, the only thing she could ask ? Ah ' 
 how much would the young girl have preferred one of
 
 166 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 her father's violent scenes, and brutalities which would 
 have exalted her energy, instead of crushing it ! 
 
 Attempting to gain time, 
 
 " Well, yes," she answered, " I'll tell you every thing, 
 mother, but not now, to-morrow, later." 
 
 She was about to yield, however, when her father's ar- 
 rival cut short their conversation. 
 
 The cashier of the Mutual Credit was quite lively that 
 night. He was humming a tune, a thing which did not 
 happen to him four times a year, and which was indica- 
 tive of the most extreme satisfaction. But he stopped 
 short at the sight of the disturbed countenance of his 
 wife and daughter. 
 
 " What is the matter? " he inquired. 
 
 " Nothing," hastily answered Mile. Gilberte, " noth- 
 ing at all, father." 
 
 " Then you are crying for your amusement," he said. 
 " Come, be candid for once, and confess that Maxence 
 has been at his tricks again ! " 
 
 " You are mistaken, father : I swear it ! " 
 
 He asked no further questions, being in his nature not 
 very curious, whether because family matters were of so 
 little consequence to him, or because he had a vague idea 
 that his general behavior deprived him of all right to 
 their confidence. 
 
 " Very well, then," he said in a gruff tone, " let us all 
 go to bed. I have worked so hard to-day, that I am 
 quite exhausted. People who pretend that business is 
 dull make me laugh. Never has M. de Thaller been in 
 the way of making so much money as now." 
 
 When he spoke, they obeyed. So that Mile. Gilberte 
 was thus going to have the whole night before her to re- 
 sume possession of herself, to pass over in her mind the 
 events of the evening, and deliberate coolly upon the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 167 
 
 decision she must come to; for, she could not doubt it, 
 Mme. Favoral would, the very next day, renew her 
 questions. 
 
 What should she say? All? Mile. Gilberte felt dis- 
 posed to do so by all the aspirations of her heart, by the 
 certainty of indulgent complicity, by the thought of 
 finding in a sympathetic soul the echo of her joys, of her 
 troubles, and of her hopes. 
 
 Yes. But Mme. Favoral was still the same woman, 
 whose firmest resolutions vanished under the gaze of her 
 husband. Let a pretender come ; let a struggle begin, as 
 in the case of M. Costeclar, would she have strength 
 enough to remain silent ? No ! 
 
 Then it would be a fearful scene with M. Favoral. He 
 might, perhaps, even go to M. de Tregars. What scan- 
 dal ! For he was a man who spared no one : and then a 
 new obstacle would rise between them, more insur- 
 mountable still than the others. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte was thinking, too, of Marius's projects ; 
 of that terrible game he was about to play, the issue of 
 which was to decide their fate. He had said enough to 
 make her understand all its perils, and that a single in- 
 discretion might suffice to set at nought the result of 
 many months' labor and patience. Besides, to speak, 
 was it not to abuse Marius's confidence. How could 
 she expect another to keep a secret she had been unable 
 to keep herself? 
 
 At last, after protracted and painful hesitation, she 
 decided that she was bound to silence, and that she 
 would only vouchsafe the vaguest explanations. 
 
 It was in vain, then, that, on the next and the follow- 
 ing days, Mme. Favoral tried to obtain that confession 
 which she had seen, as it were, rise to her daughter's 
 lips. To her passionate adjurations, to her tears, to her
 
 168 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ruses even, Mile. Gilberte invariably opposed equivocal 
 answers, a story through which nothing could be 
 guessed, save one of those childish romances which stop 
 at the preface, a schoolgirl love for a chimerical hero. 
 
 There was nothing in this very re-assuring to a 
 mother ; but Mme. Favoral knew her daughter too well 
 to hope to conquer her invincible obstinacy. She insisted 
 no more, appeared convinced, but resolved to exercise 
 the utmost vigilance. In vain, however, did she display 
 all the penetration of which she was capable. The se- 
 verest attention did not reveal to her a single suspicious 
 fact, not a circumstance from which she could draw an 
 induction, until, at last, she thought that she must have 
 been mistaken. 
 
 The fact is, that Mile. Gilberte had not been long in 
 feeling herself watched; and she observed herself with 
 a tenacious circumspection that could hardly have been 
 expected of her resolute and impatient nature. She had 
 trained herself to a sort of cheerful carelessness, to 
 which she strictly adhered, watching every expression of 
 her countenance, and avoiding carefully those hours of 
 vague revery in which she formerly indulged. 
 
 For two successive weeks, fearing to be betrayed by 
 her looks, she had the courage not to show herself at the 
 window at the hour when she knew Marius would pass. 
 Moreover, she was very minutely informed of the al- 
 ternatives of the campaign undertaken by M. de Tre- 
 gars. 
 
 More enthusiastic than ever about his pupil, the Sig- 
 ner Gismondo Pulei never tired of singing his praise, 
 and with such pomp of expression, and so curious an 
 exuberance of gesticulation, that Mme. Favoral was 
 much amused ; and, on the days when she was present at 
 her daughter's lesson, she was the first to inquire,
 
 Pulei never tired of singing his praise and with such pomp 
 of expression and so curious an exuberance of gesticula- 
 tion.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 169 
 
 " Well, how is that famous pupil ? " 
 
 And, according to what Marius had told him, 
 
 " He is swimming in the purest satisfaction," an- 
 swered the candid maestro. " Every thing succeeds mi- 
 raculously well, and much beyond his hopes." 
 
 Or else, knitting his brows, 
 
 "He was sad yesterday," he said, " owing to an un- 
 expected disappointment; but he does not lose courage. 
 We shall succeed." 
 
 The young girl could not help smiling to see her 
 mother assisting thus the unconscious complicity of the 
 Signer Gismondo. Then she reproached herself for 
 having smiled, and for having thus come, through a 
 gradual and fatal descent, to laugh at a duplicity at 
 which she would have blushed in former times. In spite 
 of herself, however, she took a passionate interest in the 
 game that was being played between her mother and 
 herself, and of which her secret was the stake. It was 
 an ever-palpitating interest in her hitherto monotonous 
 life, and a source of constantly-renewed emotions. 
 
 The days became weeks, and the weeks months ; andr 
 Mme. Favoral relaxed her useless surveillance, and, lit- 
 tie by little, gave it up almost entirely. She still thought , 
 that, at a certain moment, something unusual had oc. 
 curred to her daughter; but she felt persuaded, that, 
 whatever that was., it had been forgotten. 
 
 So that, on the stated days, Mile. Gilberte could gc 
 and lean upon the window, without fear of being called 
 to account for the emotion which she felt when M. de 
 Tregars appeared. At the expected hour, invariably, 
 and with a punctuality to shame M. Favoral himself, he 
 turned the corner of the Rue Turenne, exchanged a 
 rapid glance with the young girl, and passed on. 
 
 His health was completely restored; and with it he
 
 170 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 had recovered that graceful virility which results from 
 the perfect blending of suppleness and strength. But he 
 no longer wore the plain garments of former days. He 
 was dressed now with that elegant simplicity which re- 
 veals at first sight that rarest of objects, a " perfect 
 gentleman." And, whilst she accompanied him with her 
 eyes as he walked towards the Boulevard, she felt 
 thoughts of joy and pride rising from the bottom of her 
 soul. 
 
 " Who would ever imagine," thought she, " that this 
 young gentleman walking away yonder is my affianced 
 husband, and that the day is perhaps not far, when, hav- 
 ing become his wife, I shall lean upon his arm? Who 
 would think that all my thoughts belong to him, that it 
 is for my sake that he has given up the ambition of his 
 life, and is now prosecuting another object? Who would 
 suspect that it is for Gilberte Favoral's sake that the 
 Marquis de Tregars is walking in the Rue St. Gilles ? " 
 
 And, indeed, Marius did deserve some credit for 
 these walks ; for winter had come, spreading a thick coat 
 of mud over the pavement of all those little streets which 
 are always forgotten by the street-cleaners. 
 
 The cashier's home had resumed its habits of before 
 the war, its drowsy monotony scarcely disturbed by the 
 Saturday dinner, by M. Desclavette's naivetes or old 
 Desormeaux's puns. 
 
 Maxence, in the mean time, had ceased to live with his 
 parents. He had returned to Paris immediately after the 
 Commune; and, feeling no longer in the humor to sub- 
 mit to the paternal despotism, he had taken a small 
 apartment on the Boulevard du Temple; but, at the 
 pressing instance, of his mother, he had consented to 
 come every night to dine at the Rue St. Gilles. 
 
 Faithful to his oath, he was working hard, though
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 171 
 
 without getting on very fast. The moment was far 
 from propitious ; and the occasion, which he had so often 
 allowed to escape, did not offer itself again. For lack 
 of any thing better, he had kept his clerkship at the rail- 
 way ; and, as two hundred francs a month were not quite 
 sufficient for his wants, he spent a portion of his nights 
 copying documents for M. Chapelain's successor. 
 
 " What do you need so much money for ? " his mother 
 said to him when she noticed his eyes a little red. 
 
 " Every thing is so dear ! " he answered with a smile, 
 which was equivalent to a confidence, and yet which 
 Mme. Favoral did not understand. 
 
 He had, nevertheless, managed to pay all his debts, 
 little by little. The day when, at last, he held in his 
 hand the last receipted bill, he showed it proudly to his 
 father, begging him to find him a place at the Mutual 
 Credit, where, with infinitely less trouble, he could earn 
 so much more. 
 
 M. Favoral commenced to giggle. 
 
 " Do you take me for a fool, like your mother ? " he 
 exclaimed. " And do you think I don't know what life 
 you lead ? " 
 
 "' My life is that of a poor devil who works as hard 
 as he can." 
 
 " Indeed ! How is it, then, that women are con- 
 stantly seen at your house, whose dresses and manners 
 are a scandal in the neighborhood? " 
 
 " You have been deceived, father." 
 
 " I have seen." 
 
 " It is impossible. Let me explain." 
 
 '' No, you would have your trouble for nothing. You 
 are, and you will ever remain, the same ; and it would be 
 folly on my part to introduce into an office where I en- 
 joy the esteem of all, a fellow, who, some day or other,
 
 172 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 will be fatally dragged into the mud by some lost 
 creature." 
 
 Such discussions were not calculated to make the re- 
 lations between father and son more cordial. Several 
 times M. Favoral had insinuated, that, since Maxence 
 lodged away from home, he might as well dine away 
 too. And he would evidently have notified him to do so, 
 had he not been prevented by a remnant of human re- 
 spect, and the fear of gossip. 
 
 On the other hand, the bitter regret of having, per- 
 haps, spoiled his life, the uncertainty of the future, the 
 penury of the moment, all the unsatisfied desires of 
 youth, kept Maxence in a state of perpetual irritation. 
 
 The excellent Mme. Favoral exhausted all her argu- 
 ments to quiet him. 
 
 " Your father is harsh for us," she said ; " but is he 
 less harsh for himself? He forgives nothing; but he 
 has never needed to be forgiven himself. He does not 
 understand youth, but he has never been young himself ; 
 and at twenty he was as grave and as cold as you see 
 him now. How could he know what pleasure is? he 
 to whom the idea has never come to take an hour's en- 
 joyment." 
 
 " Have I, then, been guilty of any crimes, to be thus 
 treated by my father ? " exclaimed Maxence, flushed 
 with anger. " Our existence here is an unheard-of 
 thing. You, poor, dear mother! you have never had 
 the free disposition of a five-franc-piece. Gilberte spends 
 her days turning her dresses, after having had them 
 dyed. I am driven to a petty clerkship. And my father 
 has fifty thousand francs a year ! " 
 
 Such, indeed, was the figure at which the most mod- 
 erate estimated M. Favoral's fortune. M. Chapelain, 
 who was supposed to be well informed, insinuated freely
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 173 
 
 that his friend Vincent, besides being the cashier of the 
 Mutual Credit, must also be one of its principal stock- 
 holders. Now, judging from the dividend which had 
 just been paid, the Mutual Credit must, since the war, 
 have realized enormous profits. All its enterprises were 
 successful ; and it was on the point of negotiating a for- 
 eign loan which would infallibly fill its exchequer to 
 overflowing. 
 
 M. Favoral, moreover, defended himself feebly from 
 these accusations of concealed opulence. When M. Des- 
 ormeaux told him, " Come, now, between us, candidly, 
 how many millions have you ? " he had such a strange 
 way of affirming that people were very much mistaken, 
 that his friends' convictions became only the more set- 
 tled. And, as soon as they had a few thousand francs 
 of savings, they promptly brought them to him, imitated 
 in this by a goodly number of the small capitalists of the 
 neighborhood, who were wont to remark among them- 
 selves, 
 
 " That man is safer than the bank ! " 
 
 Millionaire or otherwise, the cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit became daily more difficult to live with. If 
 strangers, those who had with him but a superficial in- 
 tercourse, if the Saturday guests themselves, discovered 
 in him no appreciable change, his wife and his children 
 followed with anxious surprise the modifications of his 
 humor. 
 
 If outwardly he still appeared the same impassible, 
 precise, and grave man, he showed himself at home more 
 fretful than an old maid, nervous, agitated, and sub- 
 ject to the oddest whims. 
 
 After remaining three or four days without opening 
 his lips, he would begin to speak upon all sorts of sub- 
 jects with amazing volubility. Instead of watering hi&
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 wine freely, as formerly, he had begun to drink it pure ; 
 and he often took two bottles at his meal, excusing him- 
 self upon the necessity that he felt the need of stimu- 
 lating himself a little after his excessive labors. 
 
 Then he would be taken with fits of coarse gayety; 
 and he related singular anecdotes, intermingled with 
 slang expressions, which Maxence alone could under- 
 stand. 
 
 On the morning of the. first day of January, 1872, as 
 he sat down to breakfast, he threw upon the table a roll 
 of fifty napoleons, saying to his children, 
 
 " Here is your New Year's gift ! Divide, and buy 
 any thing you like." 
 
 And as they were looking at him, staring, stupid with 
 astonishment, 
 
 " Well, what of it? " he added with an oath. " Isn't 
 it well, once in a while, to scatter the coins a little? " 
 
 Those unexpected thousand francs Maxence and 
 Mile. Gilberte applied to the purchase of a shawl, which 
 their mother had wished for for ten years. 
 
 She laughed and she cried with pleasure and emo- 
 tion, the poor woman; and, whilst draping it over her 
 shoulders, 
 
 " Well, well, my dear children," she said : " your 
 father, after all, is not such a bad man." 
 
 Of which they did not seem very well convinced. 
 
 " One thing is sure," remarked Mile. Gilberte : " to 
 permit himself such liberality, papa must be awfully 
 rich." 
 
 M. Favoral was not present at this scene. The yearly 
 accounts kept him so closely confined to his office, that 
 he remained forty-eight hours without coming 1'ome. A 
 journey which he was compelled to undertake for M. 
 de Thaller consumed the balance of the week.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 175 
 
 But on his return he seemed satisfied and quiet. With- 
 out giving up his situation at the Mutual Credit, he was 
 about, he stated, to associate himself with the Messrs. 
 Jottras, M. Saint Pavin of " The Financial Pilot," and 
 M. Costeclar, to undertake the construction of a foreign 
 railway. 
 
 M. Costeclar was at the head of this enterprise, the 
 enormous profits of which were so certain and so clear, 
 that they could be figured in advance. 
 
 And whilst on this same subject, 
 
 "You were very wrong," he said to Mile. Gilberte, 
 " not to make haste and marry Costeclar when he was 
 willing to have you. You will never find another such 
 match, a man who, before ten years, will be a financial 
 power." 
 
 The very name of M. Costeclar had the effect of irri- 
 tating the young girl. 
 
 " I thought you had fallen out ? " she said to her 
 father. 
 
 " So we had," he replied with some embarrassment, 
 " because he has never been willing to tell me why he 
 had withdrawn ; but people always make up again when 
 they have interests in common." 
 
 Formerly, before the war, M. Favoral would certainly 
 never have condescended to enter into all these details. 
 But he was becoming almost communicative. Mile. Gil- 
 berte, who was observing him with interested attention, 
 fancied she could see that he was yielding to that ne- 
 cessity of expansion, more powerful than the will itself, 
 which besets the man who carries within him a weighty 
 secret. 
 
 Whilst for twenty years he had, so to speak, never 
 breathed a word on the subject of the Thaller family, 
 now he was continually speaking of them. He told his
 
 176 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Saturday friends all about the princely style of the 
 baron, the number of his servants and horses, the color 
 of his liveries, the parties that he gave, what he spent 
 for pictures and objects of art, and even the very names 
 of his mistresses ; for the baron had too much respect for 
 himself not to lay every year a few thousand napoleons 
 at the feet of some young lady sufficiently conspicuous 
 to be mentioned in the society newspapers. 
 
 M. Favoral confessed that he did not approve the 
 baron; but it was with a sort of bitter hatred that he 
 spoke of the baroness. It was impossible, he affirmed 
 to his guests, to estimate even approximately the fabu- 
 lous sums squandered by her, scattered, thrown to the 
 four winds. For she was not prodigal, she was prodi- 
 gality itself, that idiotic, absurd, unconscious prodi- 
 gality which melts a fortune in a turn of the hand; 
 which cannot even obtain from money the satisfaction 
 of a want, a wish, or a fancy. 
 
 He said incredible things of her, things which made 
 Mme. Desclavettes jump upon her seat, explaining that 
 he learned all these details from M. de Thaller, who had 
 often commissioned him to pay his wife's debts, and 
 also from the baroness herself, who did not hesitate to 
 call sometimes at the office for twenty francs ; for such 
 was her want of order, that, after borrowing all the 
 savings of her servants, she frequently had not two cents 
 to throw to a beggar. 
 
 Neither did the cashier of the Mutual Credit seem 
 to have a very good opinion of Mademoiselle de Thaller. 
 
 Brought up at hap-hazard, in the kitchen much more 
 than in the parlor, until she was twelve, and, later, 
 dragged by her mother anywhere, to the races, to the 
 first representations, to the watering-places, always es- 
 corted by a squadron of the young men of the bourse,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 177 
 
 Mile, de Thaller had adopted a style which would have 
 been deemed detestable in a man. As soon as some ques- 
 tionable fashion appeared, she appropriated it at once, 
 never rinding any thing eccentric enough to make her- 
 self conspicuous. She rode on horseback, fenced, fre- 
 quented pigeon-shooting matches, spoke slang, sang 
 Theresa's songs, emptied neatly her glass of champagne, 
 and smoked her cigarette. 
 
 The guests were struck dumb with astonishment. 
 
 " But those people must spend millions ! " interrupted 
 M. Chapelain. 
 
 M. Favoral started as if he had been slapped on the 
 back. 
 
 " Bash ! " he answered. " They are so rich, so awfully 
 rich ! " 
 
 He changed the conversation that evening ; but on the 
 following Saturday, from the very beginning of the din- 
 ner, 
 
 " I believe," he said, " that M. de Thaller has just dis- 
 covered a husband for his daughter." 
 
 " My compliments ! " exclaimed M. Desormeaux. 
 " And who may this bold fellow be? " 
 
 " A nobleman, of course," he replied. " Isn't that the 
 tradition? As soon as a financier has made his Tittle 
 million, he starts in quest of a nobleman to give him 
 his daughter." 
 
 One of those painful presentiments, such as arise in 
 the inmost recesses of the soul, made Mile. Gilberte turn 
 pale. This presentiment suggested to her an absurd, ri- 
 diculous, unlikely thing; and yet she was sure that it 
 would not deceive her, so sure, indeed, that she rose 
 under the pretext of looking for something in the side- 
 board, but in reality to conceal the terrible emotion 
 which she anticipated.
 
 178 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ~ ( And this gentleman ? " inquired M. Chapelain. 
 
 " Is a marquis, if you please, the Marquis de Tre- 
 gars." 
 
 Well, yes, it was this very name that Mile. Gilberte 
 was expecting, and well that she did ; for she was thus 
 able to command enough control over herself to check 
 the cry that rose to her throat. 
 
 " But this marriage is not made yet," pursued M. 
 Favoral. " This marquis is not yet so completely ruined, 
 that he can be made to do any thing they please. Sure, 
 the baroness has set her heart upon it, oh ! but with all 
 her might ! " 
 
 A discussion which now arose prevented Gilberte 
 from learning any more; and as soon as the dinner, 
 which seemed eternal to her, was over, she complained 
 of a violent headache, and withdrew to her room. 
 
 She shook with fever ; her teeth chattered. And yet 
 she could not believe that Marius was betraying her, nor 
 that he could have the thought of marrying such a girl 
 as M. Favoral had described, and for money too ! Poor, 
 ah! No, that was not admissible. Although she re- 
 membered well that Marius had made her swear to be- 
 lieve nothing that might be said of him, she spent a hor- 
 rible Sunday, and she felt like throwing herself in the 
 Signor Gismondo's arms, when, in giving her his les- 
 son the following Monday, 
 
 " My poor pupil," he said, " feels miserable. A mar- 
 riage has been spoken of for him, for which he has a 
 perfect horror; and he trembles lest the rumor may 
 reach his intended, whom he loves exclusively." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte felt re-assured after that. And yet 
 there remained in her heart an invincible sadness. She 
 could hardly doubt that this matrimonial scheme was 
 a part of the plan planned by Marius to recover his
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 379 
 
 fortune. But why, then, had he applied to M. de Thal- 
 ler? Who could be the man who had despoiled the 
 Marquis de Tregars? 
 
 Such were the thoughts which occupied her mind on 
 that Saturday evening when the commissary of police 
 presented himself in the Rue St. Gilles to arrest M. 
 Favoral, charged with embezzling ten or twelve mil- 
 lions. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE hour had now come for the denouement of that 
 home tragedy which was being enacted in the Rue St. 
 Gilles. 
 
 The reader will remember the incidents narrated at 
 the beginning of this story, M. de Thaller's visit and 
 angry words with M. Favoral, his departure after leav- 
 ing a package of bank-notes in Mile. Gilberte's hands, 
 the advent of the commissary of police, M. Favoral's 
 escape, and finally the departure of the Saturday even- 
 ing guests. 
 
 The disaster which struck Mme. Favoral and her 
 children had been so sudden and so crushing, that they 
 had been, on the moment, too stupefied to realize it. 
 What had happened went so far beyond the limits of 
 the probable, of the possible even, that they could not 
 believe it. The too cruel scenes which had just taken 
 place were to them like the absurd incidents of a hor- 
 rible nightmare. 
 
 But when their guests had retired after a few com- 
 monplace protestations, when they found themselves 
 alone, all three, in that house whose master had just 
 fled, tracked by the police, then only, as the disturbed 
 equilibrium of their minds became somewhat restored,
 
 180 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 did they fully realize the extent of the disaster, and the 
 horror of the situation. 
 
 Whilst Mme. Favoral lay apparently lifeless on an 
 arm-chair, Gilberte kneeling at her feet, Maxence was 
 walking up and down the parlor with furious steps. He 
 was whiter than the plaster on the walls; and a cold 
 perspiration glued his tangled hair to his temples. 
 
 His eyes glistening, and his fists clinched, 
 
 " Our father a thief ! " he kept repeating in a hoarse 
 voice, " a forger ! " 
 
 And in fact never had the slightest suspicion arisen in 
 his mind. In these days of doubtful reputations, he 
 had been proud indeed of M. Favoral's reputation of 
 austere integrity. And he had endured many a cruel 
 reproach, saying to himself that his father had, by his 
 own spotless conduct, acquired the right to be harsh and 
 exacting. 
 
 " And he has stolen twelve millions ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 And he went on, trying to calculatae all the luxury 
 and splendor which such a sum represents, all the crav- 
 ings gratified, all the dreams realized, all it can pro- 
 cure of things that may be bought. And what things 
 are not for sale for twelve millions ! 
 
 Then he examined the gloomy home in the Rue St. 
 Gilles, the contracted dwelling, the faded furniture, 
 the prodigies of a parsimonious industry, his mother's 
 privations, his sister's penury, and his own distress. 
 And he exclaimed again, 
 
 " It is a monstrous infamy ! " 
 
 The words of the commissary of police had opened 
 his eyes ; and he now fancied the most wonderful things. 
 M. Favoral, in his mind, assumed fabulous proportions. 
 By what miracles of hypocrisy and dissimulation had 
 he succeeded in making himself ubiquitous as it were.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 181 
 
 and, without awaking a suspicion, living two lives so 
 distinct and so different, here, in the midst of his fam- 
 ily, parsimonious, methodic, and severe; elsewhere, in 
 some illicit household, doubtless facile, smiling, and 
 generous, like a successful thief. 
 
 For Maxence considered the bills found in the secre- 
 tary as a flagrant, irrefutable and material proof. 
 
 Upon the brink of that abyss of shame into which 
 his father had just tumbled, he thought he could see, 
 not the inevitable woman, that incentive of all human 
 actions, but the entire legion of those bewitching cour- 
 tesans who possess unknown crucibles wherein to swell 
 fortunes, and who have secret filters to stupefy their 
 dupes, and strip them of their honor, after robbing them 
 of their last cent. 
 
 " And I," said Maxence, " I, because at twenty I 
 was fond of pleasure, I was called a bad son ! Because 
 I had made some three hundred francs of debts, I was 
 deemed a swindler! Because I love a poor girl who 
 has for me the most disinterested affection, I am one 
 of those rascals whom their family disown, and from 
 whom nothing can be expected but shame and dis- 
 grace ! " 
 
 He filled the parlor with the sound of his voice, 
 which rose like his wrath. 
 
 And at the thought of all the bitter reproaches which 
 had been addressed to him by his father, and of all the 
 humiliations that had been heaped upon him, 
 
 " Ah, the wretch ! " he fairly shrieked, " the cow- 
 ard!" 
 
 As pale as her brother, her face bathed in tears, and 
 her beautiful hair hanging undone, Mile. Gilberte drew 
 herself up. 
 
 " He is our father, Maxence," she said gently.
 
 182 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY . 
 
 But he interrupted her with a wild burst of laughter. 
 
 " True," he answered ; " and, by virtue of the law 
 which is written in the code, we owe him affection and 
 respect." 
 
 " Maxence ! " murmured the girl in a beseeching tone. 
 
 But he went on, nevertheless, 
 
 " Yes, he is our father, unfortunately. But I should 
 like to know his titles to our respect and our affection. 
 After making our mother the most miserable of crea- 
 tures, he has imbittered our existence, withered our 
 youth, ruined my future, and done his best to spoil yours 
 by compelling you to marry Costeclar. And, to crown 
 all these deeds of kindness, he runs away now, after 
 stealing twelve millions, leaving us nothing but misery 
 and a disgraced name. 
 
 " And yet," he added, " is it possible that a cashier 
 should take twelve millions, and his employer know 
 nothing of it? And is our father really the only man 
 who benefited by these millions ? " 
 
 Then came back to the mind of Maxence and Mile. 
 Gilberte the last words of their father at the moment 
 of his flight, 
 
 " I have been betrayed ; and I must suffer for 
 all!" 
 
 And his sincerity could hardly be called in question ; 
 for he was then in one of those moments of decisive 
 crisis in which the truth forces itself out in spite of all 
 calculation. 
 
 " He must have accomplices then," murmured Max- 
 ence. 
 
 Although he had spoken very low, Mme. Favoral 
 overheard him. To defend her husband, she found a 
 remnant of energy, and, straightening herself on her 
 seat,
 
 OTHE& PEOPLE'S MONEY 183 
 
 "Ah! do not doubt it," she stammered out. "Of 
 his own inspiration, Vincent could never have com- 
 mitted an evil act. He has been circumvented, led 
 away, duped ! " 
 
 " Very well ; but by whom ? " 
 
 " By Costeclar," affirmed Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 " By the Messrs. Jottras, the bankers," said Mme. 
 Favoral, " and also by M. Saint Pavin, the editor of 
 ' the Financial Pilot.' " 
 
 " By all of them, evidently," interrupted Maxence, 
 " even by his manager, M. de Thaller." 
 
 When a man is at the bottom of a precipice, what 
 is the use of finding out how he has got there, whether 
 by stumbling over a stone, or slipping on a tuft of 
 grass ! And yet it is always our foremost thought. It 
 was with an eager obstinacy that Mme. Favoral and her 
 children ascended the course of their existence, seek- 
 ing in the past the incidents and the merest words which 
 might throw some light upon their disaster ; for it was 
 quite manifest that it was not in one day and at the 
 same time that twelve millions had been subtracted from 
 the Mutual Credit. This enormous deficit must have 
 been, as usual, made gradually, with infinite caution at 
 first, whilst there was a desire, and some hope, to make 
 it good again, then with mad recklessness towards the 
 end when the catastrophe had become inevitable. 
 
 " Alas ! " murmured Mme. Favoral, " why did not 
 Vincent listen to my presentiments on that ever fatal 
 day when he brought M. de Thaller, M. Jottras, and M. 
 Saint Pavin to dine here? They promised him a for- 
 tune." 
 
 Maxence and Mile. Gilberte were too young at the 
 time of that dinner to have preserved any remem- 
 brance of it ; but they remembered many other circum-
 
 184 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 stances, which, at the time they had taken place, had not 
 struck them. They understood now the temper of their 
 father, his perpetual irritation, and the spasms of his 
 humpr. When his friends were heaping insults upon 
 him, he had exclaimed, 
 
 " Be it so ! let them arrest me ; and to-night, for the 
 first time in many years, I shall sleep in peace." 
 
 There were years, then, that he lived, as it were upon 
 burning coals, trembling at the fear of discovery, and 
 wondering, as he went to sleep each night, whether he 
 would not be awakened by the rude hand of the police 
 tapping him on the shoulder. No one better than Mme. 
 Favoral could affirm it. 
 
 " Your father, my children," she said, " had long since 
 lost his sleep. There was hardly ever a night that he 
 did not get up and walk the room for hours." 
 
 They understood, now, his efforts to compel Mile. 
 Gilberte to marry M. Costeclar. 
 
 " He thought that Costeclar would help him out of 
 the scrape," suggested Maxence to his sister. 
 
 The poor girl shuddered at the thought, and she could 
 not help feeling thankful to her father for not having 
 told her his situation ; for would she have had the sub- 
 lime courage to refuse the sacrifice, if her father had told 
 her? 
 
 " I have stolen ! I am lost ! Costeclar alone can save 
 me ; and he will save me if you become his wife." 
 
 M. Favoral's pleasant behavior during the siege was 
 quite natural. Then he had no fears; and one could 
 understand how in the most critical hours of the Com- 
 mune, when Paris was in flames, he could have ex- 
 claimed almost cheerfully, 
 
 " Ah ! this time it is indeed the final liquidation." 
 
 Doubtless, in the bottom of his heart, he wished
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 185 
 
 that Paris might be destroyed, and, with it, the evi- 
 dences of his crime. And perhaps he was not the only 
 one to form that impious wish. 
 
 " That's why, then," exclaimed Maxence, " that's 
 why my father treated me so rudely : that's why he so 
 obstinately persisted in closing the offices of the Mutual 
 Credit against me." 
 
 He was interrupted by a violent ringing of the door- 
 bell. He looked at the clock : ten o'clock was about to 
 strike. 
 
 " Who can call so late ? " said Mme. Favoral. 
 
 Something like a discussion was heard in the hall, a 
 voice hoarse with anger, and the servant's voice. 
 
 " Go and see who's there/' said Gilberte to her 
 brother. 
 
 It was useless ; the servant appeared. 
 
 " It's M. Bertan," she commenced, " the baker " 
 
 He had followed her, and, pushing her aside with his 
 robust arm, he appeared himself. He was a man about 
 forty years of age, tall, thin, already bald, and wearing 
 his beard trimmed close. 
 
 " M. Favoral ? " he inquired. 
 
 " My father is not at home," replied Maxence. 
 
 " It's true, then, what I have just been told? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That the police came to arrest him, and he escaped 
 through a window." 
 
 " It's true," replied Maxence gently. 
 
 The baker seemed prostrated. 
 
 " And my money ? " he asked. 
 
 "What money?" 
 
 "Why, my ten thousand francs! Ten thousand 
 francs which I brought to M. Favoral, in gold, you 
 hear? in ten rolls, which I placed there, on that very ta-
 
 186 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ble, and for which he gave me a receipt. Here it is, 
 his receipt." 
 
 He held out a paper ; but Maxence did not take it. 
 
 " I do not doubt your word, sir," he replied ; " but 
 my father's business is not ours." 
 
 " You refuse to give me back my money ? " 
 
 " Neither my mother, my sister, nor myself, have any 
 thing." 
 
 The blood rushed to the man's face, and, with a 
 tongue made thick by anger, 
 
 " And you think you are going to pay me off in that 
 way? " he exclaimed. " You have nothing! Poor little 
 fellow.! And will you tell me, then, what has become 
 of the twenty millions your father has stolen? for he 
 has stolen twenty millions. I know it : I have been told 
 so. Where are they ? " 
 
 " The police, sir, has placed the seals over my father's 
 papers." 
 
 " The police ? " interrupted the baker, " the seals ? 
 What do I care for that? It's my money I want: do 
 you hear? Justice is going to take a hand in it, is 
 it ? Arrest your father, try him ? What good will that 
 do me? He will be condemned to two or three years' 
 imprisonment. Will that give me a cent? He will 
 serve out his time quietly; and, when he gets out of 
 prison, he'll get hold of the pile that he's got hidden 
 somewhere; and while I starve, he'll spend my money 
 under my very nose. No, no! Things won't suit me 
 that way. It's at once that I want to be paid." 
 
 And throwing himself upon a chair his head back, 
 and his legs stretched forward, 
 
 " And what's more," he declared, " I am not going 
 out of here until I am paid."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 187 
 
 It was not without the greatest efforts that Max- 
 ence managed to keep his temper. 
 
 " Your insults are useless, sir/' he commenced. 
 
 The man jumped up from his seat. 
 
 " Insults ! " he cried in a voice that could have been 
 heard all through the house. " Do you call it an insult 
 when a man claims his own? If you think you can 
 make me hush, you are mistaken in your man, M. Fa- 
 voral, jun. I am not rich myself: my father has not 
 stolen to leave me an income. It is not in gambling at 
 the bourse that I made these ten thousand francs. It 
 is by the sweat of my body, by working hard night and 
 day for years, by depriving myself of a glass of wine 
 when I was thirsty. And I am to lose them? By the 
 holy name of heaven, we'll have to see about that ! If 
 everybody was like me, there would not be so many 
 scoundrels going about, their pockets filled with other 
 people's money, and from the top of their carriage 
 laughing at the poor fools they have ruined. Come, my 
 ten thousand francs, canaille, or I take my pay on your 
 back." 
 
 Maxence, enraged, was about to throw himself upon 
 the man, and a disgusting struggle was about to begin, 
 when Mile. Gilberte stepped between them. 
 
 " Your threats are as cowardly as your insults, Mon- 
 sieur Bertan," she uttered in a quivering voice. " You 
 have known us long enough to be aware that we know 
 nothing of our father's business, and that w.e have noth- 
 ing ourselves. All we can do is to give up to our cred- 
 itors our very last crumb. Thus it shall be done. And 
 now, sir, please retire." 
 
 There was so much dignity in her sorrow, and so im- 
 posing was her attitude, that the baker stood abashed.
 
 i88 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Ah ! if that's the way," he stammered awkwardly ; 
 " and since you meddle with it, mademoiselle " 
 
 And he retreated precipitately, growl-ing at the same 
 time threats and excuses, and slamming the doors after 
 him hard enough to break the partitions. 
 
 " What a disgrace ! " murmured Mme. Favoral. 
 
 Crushed by this last scene, she was choking ; and her 
 children had to carry her to the open window. She re- 
 covered almost at once; but thus, through the dark- 
 ness, bleak and cold, she had like a vision of her hus- 
 band ; and, throwing herself back, 
 
 " O great heavens ! " she uttered, " where did he go 
 when he left us? Where is he now? What is he do- 
 ing ? What has become of him ? " 
 
 Her married life had been for Mme. Favoral but a 
 slow tdrture. It was in vain that she would have looked 
 back through her past life for some of those happy days 
 which leave their luminous track in life, and towards 
 which the mind turns in the hours of grief. Vincent 
 Favoral had never been aught but a brutal despot, abus- 
 ing the resignation of his victim. And yet, had he died, 
 she would have wept bitterly over him in all the sin- 
 cerity of her honest and simple soul. Habit ! Prisoners 
 have been known to shed tears over the grave of their 
 jailer. Then he was her husband, after all, the father 
 of her children^ the only man who existed for her. For 
 twenty-six years they had never been separated: they 
 had sat at the same table : they had slept side by side. 
 
 Yes, she would have wept over him. But how much 
 lo.ss poignant would her grief have been than at this 
 moment, when it was complicated by all the torments of 
 uncertainty, and by the most frightful apprehensions! 
 
 Fearing lest she might take cold, her children had 
 removed her to the sofa, and there, all shivering,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 189 
 
 " Isn't it horrible," she said, " not to know any thing 
 of your father ? to think that at this very moment, per- 
 haps, pursued by the police, he is wandering in despair 
 through the streets, without daring to ask anywhere for 
 shelter." 
 
 Her children had no time to answer and comfort her ; 
 for at this moment the door-be 11 rang again. 
 
 " Who can it be now ? " said Mme. Favoral with a 
 start. 
 
 This time there was no discussion in the hall. Steps 
 sounded on the floor of the dining-room; the door 
 opened ; and M. Desclavettes, the old bronze-merchant, 
 walked, or rather slipped into the parlor. 
 
 Hope, fear, anger, all the sentiments which agitated 
 his soul, could be read on his pale and cat-like face. 
 
 " It is I," he commenced. 
 
 Maxence stepped forward. 
 
 " Have you heard any thing from my father, sir? ' 
 
 " No," answered the old merchant, " I confess I have 
 not ; and I was just coming to see if you had yourselves. 
 Oh, I know very well that this is not exactly the hour 
 to call at a house ; but I thought, that, after what took 
 place this evening, you would not be in bed yet. I could 
 not sleep myself. You understand a friendship of 
 twenty years' standing! So I took Mme. Desclavettes 
 home, and here I am." 
 
 " We feel very thankful for your kindness," mur- 
 mured Mme. Favoral. 
 
 " I am glad you do. The fact is, you see, I take a 
 good deal of interest in the misfortune that strikes you, 
 a greater interest than any one else. For, after all, 
 I, too, am a victim. I had intrusted one hundred and 
 twenty thousand francs to our dear Vincent." 
 
 " Alas, sir! " said Mile. Gilberte.
 
 190 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 But the worthy man did not allow her to proceed. 
 
 " I have no fault to find with him," he went on, 
 '* absolutely none. Why, dear me ! haven't I been in 
 business myself? and don't I know what it is? First, 
 we borrow a thousand francs or so from the cash ac- 
 count, then ten thousand, then a hundred thousand. 
 Oh! without any bad intention, to be sure, and with 
 the firm resolution to return them. But we don't al- 
 ways do ;vhat we wish to do. Circumstances some- 
 times work against us, if we operate at the bourse to 
 make up the deficit we lose. Then we must borrow 
 again, draw from Peter to pay Paul. We are afraid of 
 being caught: we are compelled, reluctantly of course, 
 to alter the books. At last a day comes when we find 
 that millions are gone, and the bomb-shell bursts. Does 
 it follow from this that a man is dishonest? Not the 
 least in the world: he is simply unlucky." 
 
 He stopped, as if awaiting an answ.er; but, as none 
 came, he resumed, 
 
 " I repeat, I have no fault to find with Favoral. Only 
 then, now, between us, to lose these hundred and twenty 
 thousand francs would simply be a disaster for me. I 
 know very well that both Chapelain and Desormeaux 
 had also deposited funds with Favoral. But they are 
 rich: one of them owns three houses in Paris, and the 
 other has a good situation; whereas I, these hundred 
 and twenty thousand francs gone, I'd have nothing left 
 but my eyes to weep with. My wife is dying about it. 
 I assure you our position is a terrible one." 
 
 To M. Desclavettes, as to the baker a few moments 
 before, 
 
 " We have nothing," said Maxence. 
 
 " I know it," exclaimed the old merchant. " I know 
 it as well as you do yourself. And so I have come to
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 191 
 
 beg a little favor of you, which w.ill cost you nothing. 
 When you see Favoral, remember me to him, explain 
 my situation to him, and try to make him give me back 
 my money. He is a hard one to fetch, that's a fact. 
 But if you go right about it, above all, if our dear Gil- 
 berte will take the matter in hand " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Oh ! I swear I sha'n't say a word about it, either 
 to Desormeaux or Chapelain, nor to any one else. Al- 
 though reimbursed, I'll make as much noise as the rest, 
 more noise, even. Come, now, my dear friends, what 
 do you say ? " 
 
 He was almost crying. 
 
 " And where the deuse," exclaimed Maxence, " do 
 you expect my father to take a hundred and twenty 
 thousand francs ? Didn't you see him go without even 
 taking the money that M. de Thaller had brought ? " 
 
 A smile appeared upon M. Desclavettes' pale lips. 
 
 " That will do very well to say, my dear Maxence ; " 
 he said, " and some people may believe it. But don't 
 say it to your old friend, who knows too much about 
 business for that. When a man puts off, after borrow- 
 ing twelve millions from his employers, he would be a 
 great fool if he had not put away tw.o or three in safety. 
 Now, Favoral is not a fool." 
 
 Tears of shame and anger started from Mile. Gil- 
 berte's eyes. 
 
 " What you are saying is abominable, sir ! " she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 He seemed much surprised at this outburst of vio- 
 lence. 
 
 "Why so?" he answered. "In Vincent's place, I 
 should not have hesitated to do what he has certainly 
 done. And I am an honest man too. I was in business
 
 192 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 for twenty years; and I dare any one to prove that a 
 note signed Desclavettes ever went to protest. And 
 so, my dear friends, I beseech you, consent to serve your 
 old friend, and, when you see your father " 
 
 The old man's tone of voice exasperated even Mme. 
 Favoral herself. 
 
 " We never expect to see my husband again," she 
 uttered. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and, in a tone of pater- 
 nal reproach, 
 
 "You just give up all such ugly ideas," he said. 
 " You w.ill see him again, that dear Vincent ; for he is 
 much too sharp to allow himself to be caught. Of 
 course, he'll stay away as long as it may be necessary ; 
 but, as soon as he can return without danger, he will 
 do so. The Statute of Limitations has not been in- 
 vented for the Grand Turk. Why, the Boulevard is 
 crowded with people who have all had their little diffi- 
 culty, and who have spent five or ten years abroad for 
 their health. Does any one think any thing of it? Not 
 in the least; and no one hesitates to shake hands with 
 them. Besides, those things are so soon forgotten." 
 
 He kept on as if he never intended to stop ; and it was 
 not without trouble that Maxence and Gilberte suc- 
 ceeded in sending him off, very much dissatisfied to see 
 his request so ill received. It was after twelve o'clock. 
 Maxence was anxious to return to his own home ; but, 
 at the pressing instances of his mother, he consented to 
 remain, and threw himself, without undressing, on the 
 bed in his old room. 
 
 " What will the morrow bring forth ? " he thought.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 193 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 AFTER a few. hours of that leaden sleep which fol- 
 lows great catastrophes, Mme. Favoral and her chil- 
 dren were awakened on the morning of the next day, 
 which was Sunday, by the furious clamors of an ex- 
 asperated crowd. Each one, from his own room, under- 
 stood that the apartment had just been invaded. Loud 
 blows upon the door were mingled with the noise of 
 feet, the oaths of men, and the screams of women. 
 And, above this confused and continuous tumult, such 
 vociferations as these could be heard : 
 
 " I tell you they must be at home ! " 
 
 " Canailles, swindlers, thieves ! " 
 
 " We want to go in : we will go in ! " 
 
 " Let the woman come, then : we want to see her, to 
 speak to her ! " 
 
 Occasionally there were moments of silence, during 
 which the plaintive voice of the servant could be heard ; 
 but almost at once the cries and the threats commenced 
 again, louder than ever. Maxence, being ready first, 
 ran to the parlor, where his mother and sister joined 
 him directly, their eyes swollen by sleep and by tears. 
 Mme. Favoral was trembling so much that she could 
 not succeed in fastening her dress. 
 
 " Do you hear ? " she said in a choking voice. 
 
 From the parlor, which was divided from the dining- 
 room by folding-doors, they did not miss a single in- 
 sult. 
 
 " Well," said Mile. Gilberte coldly, " what else could 
 we expect? If Bertan came alone last night, it is be- 
 cause he alone had been notified. Here are the others 
 now."
 
 194 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And, turning to her brother, 
 
 " You must see them," she added, " speak to them." 
 
 But Maxence did not stir. The idea of facing the 
 insults and the curses of these enraged creditors was too 
 repugnant to him. 
 
 " Would you rather let them break in the door? " said 
 Mile. Gilberte. " That won't take long." 
 
 He hesitated no more. Gathering all his courage, 
 he stepped into the dining-room. The disorder was be- 
 yond limits. The table had been pushed towards one 
 of the corners, the chairs were upset. They were there 
 some thirty men and women, concierges, shop-keepers, 
 and retired bourgeois of the neighborhood, their cheeks 
 flushed, their eyes staring, gesticulating as if they had 
 a fit, shaking their clinched fists at the ceiling. 
 
 " Gentlemen," commenced Maxence. 
 
 But his voice was drowned by the most frightful 
 shouts. He had hardly got in, when he was so closely 
 surrounded, that he had been unable to close the par- 
 lor-door after him, and had been driven and backed 
 against the embrasure of a window. 
 
 " My father, gentlemen," he resumed. 
 
 Again he was interrupted. There were three or four 
 before him, who were endeavoring before all to estab- 
 lish their own claims clearly. 
 
 They were speaking all at once, each one raising 
 his own voice so as to drown that of the others. And 
 yet, through their confused explanations, it was easy 
 to understand the way in which the cashier of the 
 Mutual Credit had managed things. 
 
 Formerly it was only with great reluctance that he 
 consented to take charge of the funds which were of- 
 fered to him ; and then he never accepted sums less than 
 ten thousand francs, being always careful to say, that,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 195 
 
 not being a prophet, he could not answer for any thing, 
 and might be mistaken, like any one else. Since the 
 Commune, on the contrary, and with a duplicity, that 
 could never have been suspected, he had used all his 
 ingenuity to attract deposits. Under some pretext or 
 other, he would call among the neighbors, the shop- 
 keepers ; and, after lamenting with them about the hard 
 times and the difficulty of making money, he always 
 ended by holding up to them the dazzling profits which 
 are yielded by certain investments unknown to the pub- 
 lic. 
 
 If these very proceedings had not betrayed him, it is 
 because he recommended to each the most inviolable se- 
 crecy, saying, that, at the slightest indiscretion, he 
 would be assailed with demands, and that it would be 
 impossible for him to do for all what he did for one. 
 
 At any rate, he took every thing that was offered, 
 even the most insignificant sums, affirming, with the 
 most imperturbable assurance, that he could double 
 or treble them without the slightest risk. 
 
 The catastrophe having come, the smaller creditors 
 showed themselves, as usual, the most angry and the 
 most intractable. The less money one has, the more 
 anxious one is to keep it. There was there an old news- 
 paper-vender, who had placed in M. Favoral's hands all 
 she had in the world, the savings of her entire life, 
 five hundred francs. Clinging desperately to Maxence's 
 garments, she begged him to give them back to her, 
 swearing, that, if he did not, there was nothing left for 
 her to do, except to throw herself in the river. Her 
 groans and her cries of distress exasperated the other 
 creditors. 
 
 That the cashier of the Mutual Credit should have 
 embezzled millions, they could well understand, they
 
 196 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 said. But that he could have robbed this poor woman 
 of her five hundred francs, nothing more low, more 
 cowardly, and more vile could be imagined ; and the law 
 had no chastisement severe enough for such a crime. 
 
 " Give her back her five hundred francs ; " they cried. 
 
 For there was not one of them but would have 
 wagered his head that M. Favoral had lots of money put 
 away; and some went even so far as to say that he 
 must have hid it in the house, and, if they looked well, 
 they would find it. 
 
 Maxence, bewildered, was at a loss what to do, when, 
 in the midst of this hostile crowd, he perceived M. 
 Chapelain's friendly face. 
 
 Driven from his bed at daylight by the bitter regrets 
 at the heavy loss he had just sustained, the old lawyer 
 had arrived in the Rue St. Gilles at the very moment 
 when the creditors invaded M. Favoral's apartment. 
 Standing behind the crowd, he had seen and heard every 
 thing without breathing a word; and, if he interfered 
 now, it was because he thought things were about to 
 take an ugly turn. He was well known; and, as soon 
 as he showed himself, 
 
 " He is a friend of the rascal ! " they shouted on all 
 sides. 
 
 But he was not the man to be so easily frightened. 
 He had seen many a worse case during twenty years 
 that he had practised law, and had witnessed all the 
 sinister comedies and all the grotesque dramas of money. 
 He knew how to speak to infuriated creditors, how to 
 handle them, and what strings can be made to vibrate 
 within them. In the most quiet tone, 
 
 " Certainly," he answered, " I was Favoral's intimate 
 friend; and the proof of it is, that he has treated me
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 197 
 
 more friendly than the rest. I am in for a hundred and 
 sixty thousand francs." 
 
 By this mere declaration he conquered the sympathies 
 of the crowd. He was a brother in misfortune; they 
 respected him: he was a skilful business-man; they 
 stopped to listen to him. 
 
 At once, and in a short and trenchant tone, he asked 
 these invaders what they were doing there, and what 
 they wanted. Did they not know to what they ex- 
 posed themselves in violating a domicile ? What would 
 have happened, if, instead of stopping to parley, Max- 
 ence had sent for the commissary of police? Was it 
 to Mme. Favoral and her children that they had in- 
 trusted their funds? No! What did they want with 
 them then? Was there by chance among them some 
 of those shrewd fellows who always try to get them- 
 selves paid in full, to the detriment of the others ? 
 
 This last insinuation proved sufficient to break up the 
 perfect accord that had hitherto existed among all the 
 creditors. Distrust arose; suspicious glances were ex- 
 changed; and, as the old newspaper woman was keep- 
 ing up her groans, 
 
 " I should like to know why you should be paid be- 
 fore us," -two women told her roughly. " Our rights 
 are just as good as yours ! " 
 
 Prompt to avail himself of the dispositions of the 
 crowd, 
 
 " And, moreover," resumed the old lawyer, " in whom 
 did we place our confidence ? Was it in Favoral the pri- 
 vate individual? To a certain extent, yes; but it was 
 much more to the cashier of the Mutual Credit. There- 
 fore that establishment,owes us, at least, some explana- 
 tions. And this is not all. Are we really so badly
 
 198 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 burned, that we should scream so loud? What do we 
 know about it? That Favoral is charged with embez- 
 zlement, that they came to arrest him, and that he has 
 run away. Is that any reason why our money should be 
 lost? I hope not. And so what should we do? Act 
 prudently, and wait patiently for the work of justice." 
 
 Already, by this time, the creditors had slipped out 
 one by one ; and soon the servant closed the door on the 
 last of them. 
 
 Then Mme. Favoral, Maxence, and Mile. Gilberte 
 surrounded M. Chapelain, and, pressing his hands, 
 
 " How thankful we feel, sir, for the service you have 
 just rendered us ! " 
 
 But the old lawyer seemed in no wise proud of his 
 victory. 
 
 " Do not thank me," he said. " I have only done my 
 duty, what any honest man would have done in my 
 place." 
 
 And yet, under the appearance of impassible cold- 
 ness, which he owed to the long practice of a profes- 
 sion which leaves no illusions, he evidently felt a real 
 emotion. 
 
 " It is you whom I pity," he added, " and with all my 
 soul, you, madame, you, my dear Gilberte. and you, 
 too, Maxence. Never had I so well understood to what 
 degree is guilty the head of a family who leaves his 
 wife and children exposed to the consequences of his 
 crimes." 
 
 He stopped. The servant was trying her best to put 
 the dining-room in some sort of order wheeling the ta- 
 ble to the centre of the room, and lifting up the chairs 
 from the floor. 
 
 " What pillage ! " she grumbled. " Neighbors too, 
 people from whom we bought our things! But they
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 199 
 
 were worse than savages; impossible to do any thing 
 with them." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself, my good girl," said M. 
 Chapelain : " they won't come back any more ! " 
 
 Mme. Favoral looked as if she wished to drop on her 
 knees before the old lawyer. 
 
 " How. very kind you are ! " she murmured : " you 
 are not too angry with my poor Vincent ! " 
 
 With the look of a man who has made up his mind 
 to make the best of a disaster that he cannot help, M. 
 Chapelain shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I am angry with no one but myself," he uttered in 
 a bluff tone. " An old bird like me should not have al- 
 lowed himself to be caught in a pigeon-trap. I am in- 
 excusable. But we want to get rich. It's slow work 
 getting rich by working, and it's so much easier to get 
 the money already made out of our neighbor's pockets ! 
 I have been unable to resist the temptation myself. It's 
 my own fault ; and I should say it was a good lesson, if 
 it did not cost so dear." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So much philosophy could hardly have been expected 
 of him. 
 
 " All my father's friends are not as indulgent as you 
 are," said Maxence, " M. Desclavettes, for instance." 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " 
 
 "Yes, last night, about twelve o'clock. He came 
 to ask us to get father to pay him back, if we should 
 ever see him again." 
 
 " That might be an idea ! " 
 
 Mile. Gilberte started.
 
 200 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " What ! " said she, " you, too, sir, can imagine that 
 my father has run away with millions ? " 
 
 The old lawyer shook his head. 
 
 " I believe nothing," he answered. " Favoral has 
 taken me in so completely, me, who had the preten- 
 sion of being a judge of men, that nothing from him, 
 either for good or for evil, could surprise me hereafter." 
 
 Mme. Favoral was about to offer some objection; 
 but he stopped her with a gesture. 
 
 " And yet," he went on, " I'd bet that he has gone 
 off with empty pockets. His recent operations reveal 
 a frightful distress. Had he had a few thousand francs 
 at his command, would he have extorted five hundred 
 francs from a poor old woman, a newspaper- vender ? 
 What did he want with the money ? Try his luck once 
 more, no doubt." 
 
 He was seated, his elbow upon the arm of the chair, 
 his head resting upon his hands, thinking ; and the con- 
 traction of his features indicated an extraordinary ten- 
 sion of mind. 
 
 Suddenly he drew himself up. 
 
 " But why," he exclaimed, " why wander in idle con- 
 jectures? What do we know about Favoral? Noth- 
 ing. One entire side of his existence escapes us, that 
 fantastic side, of which the insane prodigalities and in- 
 conceivable disorders have been revealed to us by the 
 bills found in his desk. He is certainly guilty ; but is he 
 as guilty as we think ? and, above all, is he alone guilty ? 
 Was it for himself alone that he drew all this money? 
 Are the missing millions really lost ? and wouldn't it be 
 possible to find the biggest share of them in the pockets 
 of some accomplice? Skilful men do not expose them- 
 selves. They have at their command poor wretches,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 201 
 
 sacrificed in advance, and who, in exchange for a few 
 crumbs that are thrown to them, risk the criminal court, 
 are condemned, and go to prison." 
 
 " That's just what I was telling my mother and sis- 
 ter, sir," interrupted Maxence. 
 
 ' " And that's what I am telling myself," continued 
 the old lawyer. " I have been thinking over and over 
 again of last evening's scene ; and strange doubts have 
 occurred to my mind. For a man who has been robbed 
 of a dozen millions, M. de Thaller was remarkably quiet 
 and self-possessed. Favoral appeared to me singularly 
 calm for a man charged with embezzlement and forgery. 
 M. de Thaller, as manager of the Mutual Credit, is 
 really responsible for the stolen funds, and, as such, 
 should have been anxious to secure the guilty party, and 
 to produce him. Instead of that, he wished him to go, 
 and actually brought him the money to enable him to 
 leave. Was he in hopes of hushing up the affair ? Evi- 
 dently not, since the police had been notified. On the 
 other hand, Favoral seemed much more angry than sur- 
 prised by the occurrence. It was only on the appear- 
 ance of the commissary of police that he seems to have 
 lost his head; and then some very strange things 
 escaped him, which I cannot understand." 
 
 He was walking at random through the parlor, ap- 
 parently rather answering the objections of his own 
 mind than addressing himself to his interlocutors, who 
 were listening, nevertheless, with all the attention of 
 which they were capable. 
 
 " I don't know," he went on. " An old traveller like 
 me to be taken in thus! Evidently there is under all 
 this one of those diabolical combinations which time 
 even fails to unravel. We ought to see, to inquire "
 
 202 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And then, suddenly stopping in front of Maxence, > 
 
 " How much did M. de Thaller bring to your father 
 last evening? " he asked. 
 
 " Fifteen thousand francs." 
 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 " Put away in mother's room." 
 
 " When do you expect to take them back to M. de 
 Thaller?" 
 
 " To-morrow." 
 
 "Why not to-day?" 
 
 " This is Sunday. The offices of the Mutual Credit 
 must be closed." 
 
 " After the occurrences of yesterday, M. de Thaller 
 must be at his office. Besides, haven't you his private 
 address ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I have." 
 
 The old lawyer's small eyes were shining with un- 
 usual brilliancy. He certainly felt deeply the loss of his 
 money ; but the idea that he had been swindled for the 
 benefit of some clever rascal was absolutely insupport- 
 able to him. 
 
 " If we were wise," he said again, " we'd do this. 
 Mme. Favoral would take these fifteen thousand francs, 
 and we would go together, she and I, to see M. de 
 Thaller." 
 
 It was an unexpected good-fortune for Mme. Fa- 
 voral, that M. Chapelain should consent to assist her. 
 So, without hesitating, 
 
 " The time to dress, sir," she said, " and I am ready." 
 
 She left the parlor ; but as she reached her room, her 
 son joined her. 
 
 " I am obliged to go out, dear mother," he said ; " and 
 I shall probably not be home to breakfast." 
 
 She looked at him with an air of painful surprise.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 203 
 
 " What," she said, " at such a moment ! " 
 
 " I am expected home." 
 
 " By whom? A woman? " she murmured. 
 
 "Well, yes." 
 
 " And it is for that woman's sake that you want to 
 leave your sister alone at home ? " 
 
 " I must, mother, I assure you ; and, if you only 
 knew " 
 
 " I do not wish to know, any thing." 
 
 But his resolution had been taken. He went off ; and 
 a few moments later Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain 
 entered a cab which had been sent for, and drove to M. 
 de Thaller's. 
 
 Left alone, Mile. Gilberte had but one thought, to 
 notify M. de Tregars, and obtain word from him. Any 
 thing seemed preferable to the horrible anxiety which 
 oppressed her. She had just commenced a letter, which 
 she intended to have taken to the Count de Villegre, 
 when a violent ring of the bell made her start ; and al- 
 most immediately the servant came in, saying, 
 
 " It is a gentleman who wishes to see you, a friend 
 of monsieur's, M. Costeclar, you know.." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte started to her feet, trembling with ex- 
 citement. 
 
 " That's too much impudence ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 She was hesitating whether to refuse him the door, or 
 to see him, and dismiss him shamefully herself, when 
 she had a sudden inspiration. " What does he want ? " 
 she thought. " Why not see him, and try and find 
 out what he knows? For he certainly must know the 
 truth." 
 
 But it was no longer time to deliberate. Above the 
 servant's shoulder M. Costeclar's pale and impudent 
 face showed itself.
 
 204 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 The girl having stepped to one side, he appeared, hat 
 in hand. Although it was not yet nine o'clock, his 
 morning toilet was irreproachably correct. He had al- 
 ready passed through the hair-dresser's hands ; and his 
 scanty hair was brought forward over his low fore- 
 head with the usual elaborate care. 
 
 He wore a pair of those ridiculous trousers which 
 grow wide from the knee down, and which were in- 
 vented by Prussian tailors to hide their customers' ugly 
 feet. Under his light-colored overcoat could be seen a 
 velvet- faced jacket, with a rose in its buttonhole. 
 
 Meantime, he remained motionless on the threshold 
 of the door, trying to smile, and muttering one of those 
 sentences which are never intended to be finished. 
 
 " I beg you to believe, mademoiselle your mother's 
 absence my most respectful admiration " 
 
 In fact, he was taken aback by the disorder of the 
 girl's toilet, disorder, which she had had no time to 
 repair since the clamors of the creditors had started her 
 from her bed. 
 
 She wore a long brown cashmere wrapper, fitting 
 quite close over the hips, setting off the vigorous ele- 
 gance of her figure, the maidenly perfections of her 
 waist, and the exquisite contour of her neck. Gathered 
 up in haste, her thick blonde hair escaped from beneath 
 the pins, and spread over her shoulders in luminous 
 cascades. Never had she appeared to M. Costeclar as 
 lovely as at this moment, when her whole frame was 
 vibrating with suppressed indignation, her cheeks 
 flushed, her eyes flashing. 
 
 " Please come in, sir," she uttered. 
 
 He stepped forward, no longer bowing humbly as 
 formerly, but with legs outstretched, chest thrown out, 
 with an ill-concealed look of gratified vanity.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 205 
 
 " I did not expect the honor of your visit, sir," said 
 the young girl. 
 
 Passing rapidly his hat and his cane from the right 
 hand into the left, and then the right hand upon his 
 heart, his eyes raised to the ceiling, and with all the 
 depth of expression of which he was capable, 
 
 " It is in times of adversity that we know our real 
 friends, mademoiselle," he uttered. " Those upon whom 
 we thought we could rely the most, often, at the first 
 reverse, take flight forever ! " 
 
 She felt a shiver pass over her. Was this an allu- 
 sion to Marius ? 
 
 The other, changing his tone, w.ent ony 
 
 " It's only last night that I heard of poor Favoral's 
 discomfiture, at the bourse where I had gone for news. 
 It was the general topic of conversation. Twelve mil- 
 lions! That's pretty hard. The Mutual Credit So- 
 ciety might not be able to stand it. From 580, at which 
 it was selling before the news, it dropped at once to 300. 
 At nine o'clock, there were no takers at 180. And yet, 
 if there is nothing beyond what they say, at 180, I am 
 in." 
 
 Was he forgetting himself, or pretending to? 
 
 " But please excuse me, mademoiselle," he resumed : 
 " that's not what I came to tell you." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " I came to ask if you had any news of our poor Fa- 
 voral." 
 
 " We have none, sir." 
 
 " Then it is true : he succeeded in getting away 
 through this window ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And he did not tell you where he meant to take 
 refuge ? "
 
 206 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " No." 
 
 Observing M. Costeclar with all her power of pene- 
 tration, Mile. Gilberte fancied she discovered in him 
 something like a certain surprise mingled with joy. 
 
 " Then Favoral must have left without a sou ! " 
 
 " They accuse him of having carried aw.ay millions, 
 sir ; but I would swear that it is not so." 
 
 M. Costeclar approved with a nod. 
 
 " I am of the same opinion," he declared, " unless 
 but no, he was not the man to try such a game. And 
 yet but again no, he was too closely watched. Besides, 
 he was carrying a very heavy load, a load that ex- 
 hausted all his resources." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte, hoping that she was going to learn 
 something, made an effort to preserve her indifference. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she inquired. 
 
 He looked at her, smiled, and, in a light tone, 
 
 " Nothing," he answered, " only some conjectures of 
 my own." 
 
 And throwing himself upon a chair, his head leaning 
 upon its back, 
 
 " That is not the object of my visit either," he uttered. 
 " Favoral is overboard : don't let us say any thing more 
 about him. Whether he has got ' the bag ' or not, you'll 
 never see him again: he is as good as dead. Let us, 
 therefore, talk of the living, of yourself. What's go- 
 ing to become of you ? " 
 
 " I do not understand your question, sir." 
 
 " It is perfectly limpid, nevertheless. I am asking 
 myself how you are going to live, your mother and 
 yourself? " 
 
 " Providence will not abandon us, sir ? " 
 
 M. Costeclar had crossed his legs, and with the end
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 207 
 
 of his cane he was negligently tapping his immaculate 
 boot. 
 
 " Providence ! " he giggled : " that's very good on the 
 stage, in a play, with low music in the orchestra. I can 
 just see it. In real life, unfortunately, the life which 
 we both live, you and I, it is not w.ith words, were they 
 a yard long, that the baker, the grocer, and those ras- 
 cally landlords, can be paid, or that dresses and shoes 
 can be bought." 
 
 She made no answer. 
 
 " Now, then," he went on, " here you are without a 
 penny. Is it Maxence who will supply you with money ? 
 Poor fellow ! Where would he get it ? He has hardly 
 enough for himself. Therefore, what are you going to 
 do?" 
 
 " I shall work, sir." 
 
 He got up, bowed low, and, resuming his seat, 
 
 " My sincere compliments," he said. " There is but 
 one obstacle to that fine resolution : it is impossible for 
 a woman to live by her labor alone. Servants are about 
 the only ones who ever get their full to eat." 
 
 " I'll be a servant, if necessary." 
 
 For two or three seconds he remained taken aback, 
 but, recovering himself, 
 
 " How different things would be," he resumed in an 
 insinuating tone, " if you had not rejected me when I 
 wanted to become your husband! But you couldn't 
 bear the sight of me. And yet, 'pon my word, I was 
 in love with you, oh, but for good and earnest! You 
 see, I am a judge of women ; and I saw very well how 
 you would look, handsomely dressed and got up, lean- 
 ing back in a fine carriage in the Bois " 
 
 Stronger than her will, disgust rose to her lips.
 
 208 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 "Ah, sir!" she said. 
 
 He mistook her meaning. 
 
 " You are regretting all that," he continued. " I see 
 it. Formerly, eh, you would never have consented to 
 receive me thus, alone with you, which proves that girls 
 should not be headstrong, my dear child." 
 
 He, Costeclar, he dared to call her, " My dear child." 
 Indignant and insulted, " Oh ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 But he had started, and kept on, 
 
 " Well, such as I was, I am still. To be sure, there 
 probably would be nothing further said about marriage 
 between us; but, frankly, what would you care if the 
 conditions were the same, a fine house, carriages, 
 horses, servants " 
 
 Up to this moment, she had not fully understood him. 
 Drawing herself up to her fullest height, and pointing 
 to the door, 
 
 " Leave this moment," she ordered. 
 
 But he seemed in no wise disposed to do so: on the 
 contrary, paler than usual, his eyes bloodshot, his lips 
 trembling, and smiling a strange smile, he advanced to- 
 wards Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 " What ! " said he. " You are in trouble, I kindly 
 come to offer my services, and this is the way you re- 
 ceive me! You prefer to work, do you? Go ahead 
 then, my lovely one, prick your pretty fingers, and red- 
 den your eyes. My time will come. Fatigue and want, 
 cold in the winter, hunger in all seasons, will speak to 
 your little heart of that kind Costeclar who adores you, 
 like a big fool that he is, who is a serious man and who 
 has money, much money." 
 
 Beside herself, 
 
 " Wretch ! " cried the girl, " leave, leave at once ! " 
 
 " One moment," said a strong voice.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 209 
 
 M. Costeclar looked around. 
 
 Marius de Tregars stood within the frame of the 
 open door. 
 
 " Marius ! " murmured Mile. Gilberte, rooted to the 
 spot by a surprise hardly less immense than her joy. 
 
 To behold him thus suddenly, when she was won- 
 dering whether she would ever see him again; to see 
 him appear at the very moment when she found herself 
 alone, and exposed to the basest outrages, it was one 
 of those fortunate occurrences which one can scarcely 
 realize ; and from the depth of her soul rose something 
 like a hymn of thanks. 
 
 Nevertheless, she was confounded at M. Costeclar's 
 attitude. According to her, and from what she thought 
 she knew, he should have been petrified at the sight of 
 M. de Tregars. 
 
 And he did not even seem to know him. He seemed 
 shocked, annoyed at being interrupted, slightly sur- 
 prised, but in no wise moved or frightened. 
 
 Knitting his brows, 
 
 " What do you wish ? " he inquired in his most im- 
 pertinent tone. 
 
 M. de Tregars stepped forward. He was somewhat 
 pale, but unnaturally calm, cool, and collected. Bow- 
 ing to Mile. Gilberte, 
 
 " If I have thus ventured to enter your apartment, 
 mademoiselle," he uttered gently, " it is because, as I 
 was going by the door, I thought I recognized this gen- 
 tleman's carriage." 
 
 And, with his finger over his shoulder, he was point- 
 ing to M. Costeclar. 
 
 " Now," he went on, " I had reason to be somewhat 
 astonished at this, after the positive orders I had given 
 him never to set his feet, not only in this house, but
 
 210 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 in this part of the city. I wished to find out exactly. 
 I came up : I heard " 
 
 All this was said in a tone of such crushing con- 
 tempt, that a slap on the face would have been less cruel. 
 All the blood in M. Costeclar's veins rushed to his face. 
 
 " You ! " he interrupted insolently : " I do not know 
 you." 
 
 Imperturbable, M. de Tregars was drawing off his 
 gloves. 
 
 " Are you quite certain of that? " he replied. " Come, 
 you certainly know my old friend, M. de Villegre ? " 
 
 An evident feeling of anxiety appeared on M. Coste- 
 clar's countenance. 
 
 " I do," he stammered. 
 
 " Did not M. Villegre call upon you before the 
 war?" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " Well, 'twas I who sent him to you ; and the com- 
 mands which he delivered to you were mine." 
 
 "Yours?" 
 
 " Mine. I am Marius de Tregars." 
 
 A nervous shudder shook M. Costeclar's lean frame. 
 Instinctively his eye turned towards the door. 
 
 " You see," Marius went on with the same gentle- 
 ness, " we are, you and I, old acquaintances. For you 
 quite remember me now, don't you? I am the son of 
 that poor Marquis de Tregars who came to Paris, all 
 the way from his old Brittany with his whole fortune, 
 two millions." 
 
 " I remember," said the stock-broker : " I remember 
 perfectly well." 
 
 " On the advice of certain clever people, the Marquis 
 de Tregars ventured into business. Poor old man ! He 
 was not very sharp. He was firmly persuaded that he
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 211 
 
 had already more than doubled his capital, when his 
 honorable partners demonstrated to him that he was 
 ruined, and, besides, compromised by certain signatures 
 imprudently given." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte was listening, her mouth open, and 
 wondering what Marius was aiming at, and how he 
 could remain so calm. 
 
 " That disaster," he went on, " was at the time the 
 subject of an enormous number of very witty jokes. 
 The people of the bourse could hardly admire enough 
 these bold financiers who had so deftly relieved that 
 candid marquis of his money. That was well done for 
 him: what was he meddling with? As to myself, to 
 stop the prosecutions with which my father was threat- 
 ened, I gave up all I had. I was quite young, and, as 
 you see, quite what you call, I believe, ' green.' I am no 
 longer so now. Were such a thing to happen to me to- 
 day, I should want to know at once what had become 
 oi the millions : I would feel all the pockets around me. 
 I would say, ' Stop thief ! ' " 
 
 At every" word, as it were, M. Costeclar's uneasiness 
 became more manifest. 
 
 " It was not I," he said, " who received the benefit 
 of M. de Tregars' fortune." 
 
 Marius nodded approvingly. 
 
 " I know now," he replied, " among whom the spoils 
 were divided. You, M. Costeclar, you took what you 
 could get, timidly, and according to your means. 
 Sharks are always accompanied by small fishes, to 
 which they abandon the crumbs they disdain. You were 
 but a small fish then : you accommodated yourself with 
 what your patrons, the sharks, did not care about. But, 
 when you tried to operate alone, you were not shrewd 
 enough : you left proofs of your excessive appetite for
 
 212 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 other people's money. Those proofs I have in my pos- 
 session." 
 
 M. Costeclar was now undergoing perfect torture. 
 
 " I am caught," he said, " I know it : I told M. de 
 Villegre so." 
 
 " Why are you here, then ? " 
 
 " How did I know that the count had been sent by 
 you?" 
 
 " That's a poor reason, sir." 
 
 " Besides, after what has occurred, after Favoral's 
 flight, I thought myself relieved of my engagement." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Well, if you insist upon it, I am wrong, I suppose." 
 
 " Not only you are wrong," uttered Marius still per- 
 fectly cool, " but you have committed a great impru- 
 dence. By failing to keep your engagements, you have 
 relieved me of mine. The pact is broken. According to 
 the agreement, I have the right, as I leave here, to go 
 straight to the police." 
 
 M. Costeclar 's dull eye was vacillating. 
 
 " I did not think I was doing wrong," he muttered. 
 " Favoral was my friend." 
 
 " And that's the reason why you were coming to pro- 
 pose to Mile. Favoral to become your mistress ? There 
 she is, you thought, without resources, literally with- 
 out bread, without relatives, without friends to protect 
 her: this is the time to come forward. And thinking 
 you could be cowardly, vile, and infamous with im- 
 punity, you came." 
 
 To be thus treated, he, the successful man, in pres- 
 ence of this young girl, whom, a moment before, he 
 was crushing with his impudent opulence, no M. Coste- 
 clar could not stand it. Losing completely his head,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 213 
 
 " You should have let me know, then," he exclaimed, 
 " that she was your mistress." 
 
 Something like a flame passed over M. de Tregars' 
 face. His eyes flashed. Rising in all the height of his 
 wrath, which broke out terrible at last, 
 
 " Ah, you scoundrel ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 M. Costeclar threw himself suddenly to one side. 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 But at one bound M. de Tregars had caught him. 
 
 " On your knees ! " he cried. 
 
 And, seizing him by the collar with an iron grip, he 
 lifted him clear off the floor, and then threw him down 
 violently upon both knees. 
 
 " Speak ! " he commanded. " Repeat, ' Made- 
 moiselle ' " 
 
 M. Costeclar had expected worse from M. de Tre- 
 gars' look. A horrible fear had instantly crushed within 
 him all idea of resistance. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he stuttered in a choking voice. 
 
 " I am the vilest of wretches," continued Marius. 
 
 M. Costeclar's livid face was oscillating like an inert 
 object. 
 
 " I am," he repeated, " the vilest of wretches." 
 
 " And I beg of you " 
 
 But Mile. Gilberte was sick of the sight. 
 
 " Enough," she interrupted, " enough ! " 
 
 Feeling no longer upon his shoulders the heavy hand 
 of M. de Tregars, the stock-broker rose with difficulty 
 to his feet. So livid was his face, that one might have 
 thought that his whole blood had turned to gall. 
 
 Dusting with the end of his glove the knees of his 
 trousers, and restoring as best he could the harmony 
 of his toilet, which had been seriously disturbed,
 
 214 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Is it showing any courage," he grumbled, " to abuse 
 one's physical strength ? " 
 
 M. de Tregars had already recovered his self-posses- 
 sion; and Mile. Gilberte thought she could read upon 
 his face regret for his violence. 
 
 " Would it be better to make use of what you know ? " 
 
 M. Costeclar joined his hands. 
 
 " You would not do that," he said. " What good 
 would it do you to ruin me ? " 
 
 " None," answered M. de Tregars : " you are right. 
 But yourself?" 
 
 And, looking straight into M. Costeclar 's eyes, 
 
 " If you could be of service to me," he inquired, 
 " would you be willing ? " 
 
 " Perhaps. That I might recover possession of the 
 papers you have." 
 
 M. de Tregars was thinking. 
 
 " After what has just taken place," he said at last, 
 "an explanation is necessary between us. I will be at 
 your house in an hour. Wait for me." 
 
 M. Costeclar had become more pliable than his own 
 lavender kid gloves: in fact, alarmingly pliable. 
 
 " I am at your command, sir," he replied to M. de 
 Tregars. 
 
 And, bowing to the ground before Mile. Gilberte, he 
 left the parlor; and, a few moments after, the street- 
 door was heard to close upon him. 
 
 " Ah, what a wretch ! " exclaimed the. girl, dreadfully 
 agitated. 
 
 " Marius, did you see what a look he gave us as he 
 went out ? " 
 
 " I saw it," replied M. de Tregars. 
 
 " That man hates us : he will not hesitate to commit
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 a crime to avenge the atrocious humiliation you have 
 just inflicted upon him." 
 
 " I believe it too." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte made a gesture of distress. 
 
 " Why did you treat him so harshly ? " she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " I had intended to remain calm, and it would have 
 been politic to have done so. But there are some in- 
 sults which a man of heart cannot endure. I do not 
 regret what I have done." 
 
 A long pause followed ; and they remained standing, 
 facing each other, somewhat embarrassed. Mile. Gil- 
 berte felt ashamed of the disorder of her dress. M. de 
 Tregars wondered how he could have been bold enough 
 to enter this house. 
 
 " You have heard of our misfortune," said the young 
 girl at last. 
 
 " I read about it this morning, in the papers/' 
 
 " What ! the papers know already ? " 
 
 " Every thing." 
 
 " And our name is printed in them ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 She covered her face with her two hands. 
 
 " What disgrace ! " she said. 
 
 " At first," went on M. de Tregars, " I could hardly 
 believe what I read. I hastened to come ; and the first 
 shopkeeper I questioned confirmed' only too well what 
 I had seen in the papers. From that moment, I had but 
 one wish, to see and speak to you. When I reached 
 the door, I recognized M. Costeclar's equipage, and I 
 had a presentiment of the truth. I inquired from the 
 concierge for your mother or your brother, and heard 
 that Maxence had gone out a few moments before, and
 
 216 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 that Mme. Favoral had just left in a carriage with M. 
 Chapelain, the old lawyer. At the idea that you were 
 alone with Costeclar, I hesitated no longer. I ran up 
 stairs, and, finding the door open, had no occasion to 
 ring." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte could hardly repress the sobs that rose 
 to her throat. 
 
 " I never hoped to see you again," she stammered ; 
 " and you'll find there on the table the letter I had just 
 commenced for you when M. Costeclar interrupted 
 me." 
 
 M. de Tregars took it up quickly. Two lines only 
 were written. He read : " I release you from your en- 
 gagement, Marius. Henceforth you are free." 
 
 He became whiter than his shirt. 
 
 " You wish to release me from my engagement ! " 
 he exclaimed. " You " 
 
 " Is it not my duty ? Ah ! if it had only been our 
 fortune, I should perhaps have rejoiced to lose it. I 
 know your heart. Poverty would have brought us 
 nearer together. But it's honor, Marius, honor that is 
 lost too ! The name I bear is forever stained. Whether 
 my father is caught, or whether he escapes, he will be 
 tried all the same, condemned, and sentenced to a de- 
 grading penalty for embezzlement and forgery." 
 
 If M. de Tregars was allowing her to proceed thus, 
 it was because he felt all his thoughts whirling in his 
 brain ; because she looked so beautiful thus, all in tears, 
 and her hair loose ; because there arose from her person 
 so subtle a charm, that words failed him to express the 
 sensations that agitated him. 
 
 " Can you," she went on, " take for your wife the 
 daughter of a dishonored man? No, you cannot. 
 Forgive me, then, for having for a moment turned away
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 217 
 
 your life from its object; forgive the sorrow which I 
 have caused you ; leave me to the misery of my fate ; for- 
 get me ! " 
 
 She was suffocating. 
 
 " Ah, you have never loved me ! " exclaimed 
 Marius. 
 
 Raising her hands to heaven, 
 
 " Thou hearest him, great God ! " she uttered, as if 
 shocked by a blasphemy. 
 
 " Would it be easy for you to forget me then ? Were 
 I to be struck by misfortune, would you break our en- 
 gagement, cease to love me ? " 
 
 She ventured to take his hands, and, pressing them 
 between hers, 
 
 " To cease loving you no longer depends on my 
 will," she murmured with quivering lips. " Poor, 
 abandoned of all, disgraced, criminal even, I should 
 love you still and always." 
 
 With a passionate gesture, Marius threw his arm 
 around her waist, and, drawing her to his breast, cov- 
 ered her blonde hair with burning kisses. 
 
 " Well, 'tis thus that I love you too ! " he exclaimed, 
 " and with all my soul, exclusively, and for life ! What 
 do I care for your parents ? Do I know them ? Your 
 father does he exist? Your name it is mine, the 
 spotless name of the Tregars. You are my wife ! mine, 
 mine ! " 
 
 She was struggling feebly: an almost invincible 
 stupor was creeping over her. She felt her reason 
 disturbed, her energy giving way, a film before her eyes, 
 the air failing to her heaving chest. 
 
 A great effort of her will restored her to conscious- 
 ness. She withdrew gently, and sank upon a chair, less 
 strong against joy than she had been against sorrow.
 
 OtHEk PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Pardon me," she stammered, " pardon me for hav- 
 ing doubted you ! " 
 
 M. de Tregars was not much less agitated than Mile. 
 Gilberte: but he was a man; and the springs of his 
 energy were of a superior temper. In less than a min- 
 ute he had fully recovered his self-possession, and im- 
 posed upon his features their accustomed expression. 
 Drawing a chair by the side of Mile. Gilberte, 
 
 " Permit me, my friend," he said, " to remind you that 
 our moments are numbered, and that there are many de- 
 tails which it is urgent that I should know." 
 
 " What details? '' she asked, raising her head. 
 
 " About your father." 
 
 She looked at him with an air of profound surprise. 
 
 " Do you not know more about it than I do ? " she 
 replied, " more than my mother, more than any of us ? 
 Did you not, whilst following up the people who robbed 
 your father, strike mine unwittingly? And 'tis I, 
 wretch that I am, who inspired you to that fatal resolu- 
 tion ; and I have not the heart to regret it." 
 
 M. de Tregars had blushed imperceptibly. 
 
 " How did you know ? " he began. 
 
 " Was it not said that you were about to marry Mile, 
 de Thaller?" 
 
 He drew up suddenly. 
 
 " Never," he exclaimed, " has this marriage existed, 
 except in the brain of M. de Thaller, and, more still, 
 of the Baroness de Thaller. That ridiculous idea oc- 
 curred to her because she likes my name, and would 
 be delighted to see her daughter Marquise de Tregars. 
 She has never breathed a word of it to me ; but she has 
 spoken of it everywhere, with just enough secrecy to 
 give rise to a good piece of parlor gossip. She went so
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 219 
 
 far as to confide to several persons of my acquaintance 
 the amount of the dowry, thinking thus to encourage 
 me. As far as I could, I warned you against this false 
 news through the Signer Gismondo." 
 
 " The Signor Gismondo relieved me of cruel anx- 
 ieties," she replied ; " but I had suspected the truth from 
 the first. Was I not the confidante of your hopes ? Did 
 I not know your projects? I had taken for granted 
 that all this talk about a marriage was but a means to 
 advance yourself in M. de Thaller's intimacy without 
 awaking his suspicions." 
 
 M. de Tregars was not the man to deny a true fact. 
 
 " Perhaps, indeed, I have not been wholly foreign to 
 M. Favoral's disaster. At least I may have hastened it 
 a few months, a few days only, perhaps ; for it was in- 
 evitable, fatal. Nevertheless, had I suspected the real 
 facts, I would have given up my designs Gilberte, I 
 swear it rather than risk injuring your father. There 
 is no undoing what is done ; but the evil may, perhaps, 
 be somewhat lessened." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte started. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " she exclaimed, " do you, then, 
 believe my father innocent ? " 
 
 Better than any one else, Mile. Gilberte must have 
 been convinced of her father's guilt. Had she not seen 
 him humiliated and trembling before M. de Thaller? 
 Had she not heard him, as it were, acknowledge the 
 truth of the charge that was brought against him ? But 
 at tw.enty hope never forsakes us, even in presence of 
 facts. 
 
 And when she understood by M. de Tregars' silence 
 that she was mistaken, 
 
 " It's madness," she murmured, dropping her head :
 
 220 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " I feel it but too well. But the heart speaks louder 
 than reason. It is so cruel to be driven to despise 
 one's father ! " 
 
 She wiped the tears which filled her eyes, and, in a 
 firmer voice, 
 
 " What happens is so incomprehensible ! " she went 
 on. " How can I help imagining some one of those 
 mysteries which time alone unravels. For twenty-four 
 hours we have been losing ourselves in idle conjectures, 
 and, always and fatally, we come to this conclusion, 
 that my father must be the victim of some mysterious 
 intrigue. 
 
 " M. Chapelain, whom a loss of a hundred and sixty 
 thousand francs has not made particularly indulgent, 
 is of that opinion." 
 
 " And so am I," exclaimed Marius. 
 
 " You see, then " 
 
 But without allowing her to proceed and taking 
 gently her hand, 
 
 " Let me tell you all," he interrupted, " and try with 
 you to find an issue to this horrible situation. Strange 
 rumors are afloat about M. Favoral. It is said that his 
 austerity was but a mask, his sordid economy a means 
 of gaining confidence. It is affirmed that in fact he 
 abandoned himself to all sorts of disorders ; that he had, 
 somewhere in Paris, an establishment, where he lavished 
 the money of which he was so sparing here. Is it so ? 
 The same thing is said of all those in whose hands large 
 fortunes have melted." 
 
 The young girl had become quite red. 
 
 " I believe that is true," she replied. " The commis- 
 sary of police stated so to us. He found among my 
 father's papers receipted bills for a number of costly
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 221 
 
 articles, which could only have been intended for a 
 woman." 
 
 M. de Tregars looked perplexed. 
 
 " And does any one know who this woman is ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Whoever she may be, I admit that she may have 
 cost M. Favoral considerable sums. But can she have 
 cost him twelve millions ? " 
 
 " Precisely the remark which M. Chapelain made." 
 
 " And which every sensible man must also make. I 
 know very well that to conceal for years a considerable 
 deficit is a costly operation, requiring purchases and 
 sales, the handling and shifting of funds, all of which 
 is ruinous in the extreme. But, on the other hand, M. 
 Favoral was making money, a great deal of money. He 
 was rich : he was supposed to be worth millions. Other- 
 wise, Costeclar would never have asked your hand." 
 
 " M. Chapelain pretends that at a certain time my 
 father had at least fifty thousand francs a year." 
 
 " It's bewildering." 
 
 For tw.o or three minutes M. de Tregars remained 
 silent, reviewing in his mind every imaginable eventu- 
 ality, and then, 
 
 " But no matter," he resumed. " As soon as I heard 
 this morning the amount of the deficit, doubts came to 
 my mind. And it is for that reason, dear friend, that I 
 was so anxious to see you and speak to you. It would 
 be necessary for me to know exactly what occurred here 
 last night." 
 
 Rapidly, but without omitting a single useful detail, 
 Mile. Gilberte narrated the scenes of the previous 
 night, the sudden appearance of M. de Thaller, the
 
 222 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 arrival of the commissary of police, M. Favoral's es- 
 cape, thanks to Maxence's presence of mind. Every 
 one of her father's words had remained present to her 
 mind; and it was almost literally that she repeated his 
 strange speeches to his indignant friends, and his inco- 
 herent remarks at the moment of flight, when, whilst 
 acknowledging his fault, he said that he was not as 
 guilty as they thought; that, at any rate, he was not 
 alone guilty ; and that he had been shamefully sacrificed. 
 When she had finished, 
 
 " That's exactly what I thought," said M. de Tregars. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " M. Favoral accepted a role in one of those terrible 
 financial dramas which ruin a thousand poor dupes to 
 the benefit of two or three clever rascals. Your father 
 wanted to be rich : he needed money to carry on his in- 
 trigues. He allowed himself to be tempted. But whilst 
 he believed himself one of the managers, called upon to 
 divide the receipts, he was but a scene-shifter with a 
 stated salary. The moment of this denouement having 
 come, his so-called partners disappeared through a trap- 
 door with the cash, leaving him alone, as they say, to 
 face the music." 
 
 " If that's the case," replied the young girl, " why 
 didn't my father speak ? " 
 
 " What was he to say ? " 
 
 " Name his accomplices." 
 
 " And suppose he had no proofs of their complicity 
 to offer? He was the cashier of the Mutual Credit; 
 and it is from his cash that the millions are gone." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte's conjectures had run far ahead of that 
 sentence. Looking straight at Marius, 
 
 " Then," she said, " you believe, as M. Chapelain 
 does, that M. de Thaller "
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 223 
 
 "Ah! M. Chapelain thinks" 
 
 " That the manager of the Mutual Credit must have 
 known the fact of the frauds." 
 
 " And that he had his share of them? " 
 
 " A larger share than his cashier, yes.'* 
 
 A singular smile curled M. de Tregars' lips. 
 
 " Quite possible," he replied : " that's quite possible." 
 
 For the past few moments Mile. Gilberte's embar- 
 rassment was quite evident in her look. At last, over- 
 coming her hesitation, 
 
 " Pardon me," said she, " I had imagined that M. de 
 Thaller was one of those men whom you wished to 
 strike ; and I had indulged in the hope, that, whilst hav- 
 ing justice done to your father, you were thinking, per- 
 haps, of avenging mine." 
 
 M. de Tregars stood up, as if moved by a spring. 
 
 " Well, yes ! " he exclaimed. " Yes, you have cor- 
 rectly guessed. But how can we obtain this double re- 
 sult? A single misstep at this moment might lose all. 
 Ah, if I only knew your father's real situation; if I 
 could only see him and speak to him ! In one word he 
 might, perhaps, place in my hands a sure weapon, the 
 weapon that I have as yet been unable to find." 
 
 " Unfortunately," replied Mile. Gilberte with a ges- 
 ture of despair, " w.e are without news of my father ; 
 and he even refused to tell us where he expected to take 
 refuge." 
 
 " But he will write, perhaps. Besides, we might 
 look for him, quietly, so as not to excite the suspicions of 
 the police ; and if your brother Maxence was only will- 
 ing to help me " 
 
 " Alas ! I fear that Maxence may have other cares. 
 He insisted upon going out this morning, in spite of 
 mother's request to the contrary."
 
 224 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 But Marius stopped her, and, in the tone of a man 
 who knows much more than he is willing to say, 
 
 " Do not calumniate Maxence," he said : " it is 
 through him, perhaps, that we will receive the help that 
 we need." 
 
 Eleven o'clock struck. Mile. Gilberte started. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed, " mother will be home 
 directly." 
 
 M. de Tregars might as well have waited for her. 
 Henceforth he had nothing to conceal. Yet, after duly 
 deliberating with the young girl, they decided that he 
 should withdraw, and that he would send M. de Vil- 
 legre to declare his intentions. He then left, and, five 
 minutes later, Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain ap- 
 peared. 
 
 The ex-attorney was furious ; and he threw, the pack- 
 age of bank-notes upon the table with a movement of 
 rage. 
 
 " In order to return them to M. de Thaller," he ex- 
 claimed, "it was at least necessary to see him. But 
 the gentleman is invisible ; keeps himself under lock and 
 key, guarded by a perfect cloud of servants in livery." 
 
 Meantime, Mme. Favoral had approached her 
 daughter. 
 
 " Your brother ? " she asked in a whisper. 
 
 " He has not yet come home." 
 
 " Dear me ! " sighed the poor mother : " at such a 
 time he forsakes us, and for whose sake ? " 
 
 XXV. 
 
 MME. FAVORAL, usually so indulgent, was too severe 
 this time; arid it was very unjustly that she accused her
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 225 
 
 son. She forgot, and what mother does not forget, that 
 he was twenty-five years of age, that he was a man, and 
 that, outside of the family and of herself, he must have 
 his own interests and his passions, his affections and his 
 duties. Because he happened to leave the house for a 
 few hours, Maxence was surely not forsaking either his 
 mother or his sister. It was not without a severe in- 
 ternal struggle that he had made up his mind to go out, 
 and, as he was going down the steps, 
 
 " Poor mother," he thought. " I am sure I am mak- 
 ing her very unhappy ; but how can I help it ? " 
 
 This was the first time that he had been in the street 
 since his father's disaster had been known ; and the im- 
 pression produced upon him w.as painful in the extreme. 
 Formerly, when he walked through the Rue St. Gilles, 
 that street where he was born, and where he used to 
 play as a boy, every one met him with a friendly nod or 
 a familiar smile. True he was then the son of a man 
 rich and highly esteemed; whereas this morning not a 
 hand was extended, not a hat raised, on his passage. 
 People whispered among themselves, and pointed him 
 out with looks of hatred and irony. That was because 
 he was now the son of the dishonest cashier tracked by 
 the police, of the man whose crime brought disaster 
 upon so many innocent parties. 
 
 Mortified and ashamed, Maxence was hurrying on, 
 his head down, his cheek burning, his throat parched, 
 when, in front of a wine-shop, 
 
 "Halloo!" said a man; "that's the son. What 
 cheek!" 
 
 And farther on, in front of the grocer's. 
 
 " I tell you what," said a woman in the midst of a 
 group, " they still have more than we have." 
 
 Then, for the first time, he understood with what
 
 226 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 crushing weight his father's crime would weigh upon 
 his whole life ; and, whilst going up the Rue Turenne, 
 
 " It's all over," he thought : " I can never get over it." 
 
 And he was thinking of changing his name, of emi- 
 grating to America, and hiding himself in the deserts 
 of the Far West, when, a little farther on, he noticed a 
 group of some thirty persons in front of a newspaper- 
 stand. The vender, a fat little man with a red face and 
 an impudent look, was crying in a hoarse voice, 
 
 " Here are the morning papers ! The last editions ! 
 All about the robbery of twelve millions by a poor 
 cashier. Buy the morning papers ! " 
 
 And, to stimulate the sale of his wares, he added all 
 sorts of jokes of his own invention, saying that the 
 thief belonged to the neighborhood; that it was quite 
 nattering, etc. 
 
 The crowd laughed ; and he went on, 
 
 " The cashier Favoral's robbery ! twelve millions ! 
 Buy the paper, and see how it's done." 
 
 And so the scandal was public, irreparable. Max- 
 ence was listening a few steps off. He felt like going ; 
 but an imperative feeling, stronger than his will, made 
 him anxious to see what the papers said. 
 
 Suddenly he made up his mind, and, stepping up 
 briskly, he threw down three sous, seized a paper, and 
 ran as if they had all known him. 
 
 " Not very polite, the gentleman," remarked two 
 idlers whom he had pushed a little roughly. 
 
 Quick as he had been, a shopkeeper of the Rue Tu- 
 renne had had time to recognize him. 
 
 " Why, that's the cashier's son ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 ''Is it possible?" 
 
 " Why don't they arrest him? " 
 
 Half a dozen curious fellows, more eager than the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 227 
 
 rest, ran after him to try and see his face. But he was 
 already far off. 
 
 Leaning against a gas-lamp on the Boulevard, he un- 
 folded the paper he had just bought. He had no trouble 
 looking for the article. In the middle of the first page, 
 in the most prominent position, he read in large 
 letters, 
 
 " ANOTHER FINANCIAL DISASTER. 
 
 " At the moment of going to press, the greatest agita- 
 tion prevails among the stock-brokers and operators at 
 the bourse generally, owing to the news that one of our 
 great banking establishments has just been the victim of 
 a theft of unusual magnitude. 
 
 " At about five o'clock in the afternoon, the manager 
 of the Mutual Credit Society, having need of some 
 documents, went to look for them in the office of the 
 head cashier, who was then absent. A memorandum 
 forgotten on the table excited his suspicions. Sending 
 at once for a locksmith, he had all the drawers broken 
 open, and soon acquired the irrefutable evidence that 
 the Mutual Credit had been defrauded of sums, which, 
 as far as now. known, amount to upwards of twelve 
 millions. 
 
 " At once the police was notified ; and M. Brosse, 
 commissary of police, duly provided with a warrant, 
 called at the guilty cashier's house. 
 
 " That cashier, named Favoral, we do not hesitate 
 to name him, since his name has already been made pub- 
 lic, had just sat down to dinner with some friends. 
 Warned, no one knows how, he succeeded in escaping 
 through a window into the yard of the adjoining house, 
 and up to this hour has succeeded in eluding all search. 
 
 " It seems that these embezzlements had been going 
 on for years, but had been skilfully concealed by false 
 entries. 
 
 " M. Favoral had managed to secure the esteem of 
 all who knew him. He led at home a more than modest 
 existence. But that was only, as it were, his official 
 life. Elsewhere, and under another name, he indulged
 
 228 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 in the most reckless expenses for the benefit of a woman 
 with whom he was madly in love. 
 
 " Who this woman is, is not yet exactly known. 
 
 " Some mention a very fascinating young actress, 
 who performs at a theatre not a hundred miles from the 
 Rue Vivienne; others, a lady of the financial high life, 
 whose equipages, diamonds, and dresses are justly 
 famed. 
 
 " We might easily, in this respect, give particulars 
 w.hich would astonish many people; for we know all; 
 but, at the risk of seeming less well informed than some 
 others of our morning contemporaries, we will observe 
 a silence which our readers will surely appreciate. We 
 do not wish to add, by a premature indiscretion, any 
 thing to the grief of a family already so cruelly 
 stricken ; for M. Favoral leaves behind him in the deep- 
 est sorrow a wife and tw.o children, a son of twenty- 
 five, employed in a railroad office, and a daughter of 
 twenty, remarkably handsome, who, a few months ago, 
 came very near marrying M. C. 
 
 " Next " 
 
 Tears of rage obscured Maxence's sight whilst read- 
 ing the last few lines of this terrible article. To find 
 himself thus held up to public curiosity, though inno- 
 cent, was more than he could bear. 
 
 And yet he was, perhaps, still more surprised than in- 
 dignant. He had just learned in that paper more than 
 his father's most intimate friends knew, more than he 
 knew himself. Where had it got its information? 
 And what could be these other details which the writer 
 pretended to know, but did not wish to publish as yet? 
 Maxence felt like running to the office of the paper, 
 fancying that they could tell htm there exactly where 
 and under what name M. Favoral led that existence of 
 pleasure and luxury, and who the woman was to whom 
 the article alluded, '
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 229 
 
 But in the mean time he had reached his hotel, the 
 Hotel des Folies. After a moment of hesitation, 
 
 " Bash ! " he thought, " I have the whole day to call 
 at the office of the paper." 
 
 And he started in the corridor of the hotel, a corridor 
 that was so long, so dark, and so narrow, that it gave an 
 idea of the shaft of a mine, and that it was prudent, be- 
 fore entering it, to make sure that no one was coming 
 in the opposite direction. It was from the neighboring 
 theatre, des Folies-Nouvelles (now the Theatre De- 
 jazet), that the hotel had taken its name. 
 
 It consists of the rear building of a large old house, 
 and has no frontage on the Boulevard, where nothing 
 betrays its existence, except a lantern hung over a low 
 and narrow door, between a cafe and a confectionery- 
 shop. It is one of those hotels, as there are a good 
 many in Paris, somewhat mysterious and suspicious, 
 ill-kept, and whose profits remain a mystery for simple- 
 minded folks. Who occupy the apartments of the first 
 and second story? No one knows. Never have the 
 most curious of the neighbors discovered the face of a 
 tenant. And yet they are occupied; for often, in the 
 afternoon, a curtain is drawn aside, and a shadow is 
 seen to move. In the evening, lights are noticed 
 within ; and sometimes the sound of a cracked old piano 
 is heard. 
 
 Above the second story, the mystery ceases. All the 
 upper rooms, the price of which is relatively modest, 
 are occupied by tenants who may be seen and heard, 
 clerks like Maxence, shop-girls from the neighborhood, 
 a few restaurant-waiters, and sometimes some poor 
 devil of an actor or chorus-singer from the Theatre 
 Dejazet, the Circus, or the Chateau d'Eau. One of the 
 reat advantages of the Hotel des Fglies and Mme..
 
 230 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Fortin, the landlady, never failed to point it out to the 
 new tenants, an inestimable advantage, she declared 
 was a back entrance on the Rue Beranger. 
 
 " And everybody knows," she concluded, " that there 
 is no chance of being caught, when one has the good 
 luck of living in a house that has two outlets." 
 
 When Maxence entered the office, a small, dark, and 
 dirty room, the proprietors, M. and Mme. Fortin were 
 just finishing their breakfast with an immense bowl of 
 coffee of doubtful color, of which an enormous red cat 
 was taking a share. 
 
 " Ah, here is M. Favoral ! " they exclaimed. 
 
 There w.as no mistaking their tone. They knew the 
 catastrophe; and the newspaper lying on the table 
 showed how they had heard it. 
 
 " Some one called to see you last night," said Mme. 
 Fortin, a large fat woman, whose nose was always be- 
 smeared with snuff, and whose honeyed voice made a 
 marked contrast with her bird-of-prey look. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " A gentleman of about fifty, tall and thin, with a long 
 overcoat, coming down to his heels." 
 
 Maxence imagined, from this description, that he rec- 
 ognized his own father. And yet it seemed impossible, 
 after what had happened, that he should dare to show 
 himself on the Boulevard du Temple, where everybody 
 knew him, within a step of the Cafe Turc, of which he 
 was one of the oldest customers. 
 
 " At what o'clock was he here? " he inquired. 
 
 " I really can't tell," answered the landlady. " I was 
 half asleep at the time ; but Fortin can tell us." 
 
 M. Fortin, who looked about twenty years younger 
 than his wife, was one of those small men, blonde, with 
 scanty beard, a suspicious glance, and uneasy smile,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 231 
 
 such as the Madame Fortins know how to find, Heaven 
 knows where. 
 
 " The confectioner had just put up his shutters," he 
 replied : " consequently, it must have been between 
 eleven and a quarter-past eleven." 
 
 " And didn't he leave any word ? " said Maxence. 
 
 " Nothing, except that he was very sorry not to find 
 you in. And, in fact, he did look quite annoyed. We 
 asked him to leave his name ; but he said it wasn't worth 
 while, and that he would call again." 
 
 At the glance which the landlady was throwing 
 toward him from the corner of her eyes, Maxence un- 
 derstood that she had on the subject of that late visitor 
 the same suspicion as himself. 
 
 And, as if she had intended to make it more apparent 
 still, 
 
 " I ought, perhaps, to have given him your key," she 
 said. 
 
 " And why so, pray ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know, an idea of mine, that's all. Be- 
 sides, Mile. Lucienne can probably tell you more about 
 it; for she was there when the gentleman came, and I 
 even think that they exchanged a few words in the 
 yard." 
 
 Maxence, seeing that they were only seeking a pre- 
 text to question him, took his key, and inquired, 
 
 " Is Mile. Lucienne at home? " 
 
 " Can't tell. She has been going and coming all the 
 morning, and I don't know whether she finally staid in 
 or out. One thing is sure, she waited for you last 
 night until after twelve; and she didn't like it much, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 Maxence started up the steep stairs; and, as he 
 reached the upper stories, a woman's voice, fresh and
 
 232 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 beautifully toned, reached his ears more and more dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 She was singing a popular tune, one of those songs 
 which are monthly put in circulation by the singing 
 cafes: 
 
 " To hope ! O charming word, 
 Which, during all life, 
 Husband and children and wife 
 Repeat in common accord! 
 When the moment of success 
 From us ever further slips, 
 "Tis Hope from its rosy lips 
 Whispers, To-morrow you will bless. 
 'Tis very nice to run, 
 But to have is better fun." 
 
 " She is in," murmured Maxence, breathing mere 
 freely. 
 
 Reaching the fourth story, he stopped before the door 
 which faced the stairs, and knocked lightly. 
 
 At once, the voice, which had just commenced an- 
 other verse stopped short, and inquired, " Who's; 
 there?" 
 
 "I, Maxence!" 
 
 " At this hour ! " replied the voice with an ironical 
 laugh. " That's lucky. You have probably forgotten 
 that we were to go to the theatre last night, and start 
 for St. Germain at seven o'clock this morning." 
 
 " Don't you know then ? " Maxence began, as soon as 
 he could put in a word. 
 
 " I know that you did not come home last night." 
 
 " Quite true. But when I have told you " 
 
 " What? the lie you have imagined? Save yourself 
 the trouble." 
 
 " Lucienne, I beg of you, open the door."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 233 
 
 " Impossible, I am dressing. Go to your own room : 
 as soon as I am dressed, I'll join you." 
 
 And, to cut short all these explanations, she took up 
 her song again : 
 
 " Hope, I've waited but too long 
 For thy manna divine! 
 I've drunk enough of thy wine, 
 And I know thy siren song: 
 Waiting for a lucky turn, 
 I have wasted my best days: 
 Take up thy magic-lantern 
 And elsewhere display its rays. 
 'Tis very nice to run, 
 But to have is better fun ! " 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 IT was on the opposite side of the landing that what 
 Mme. Fortin pompously called " Maxence's apartment " 
 was situated. 
 
 It consisted of a sort of antechamber, almost as large 
 as a handkerchief (decorated by the Fortins with the 
 name of dining-room), a bedroom, and a closet called a 
 dressing-room in the lease. Nothing could be more 
 gloomy than this lodging, in which the ragged paper 
 and soiled paint retained the traces of all the wanderers 
 who had occupied it since the opening of the Hotel des 
 Folies. The dislocated ceiling was scaling off in large 
 pieces ; the floor seemed affected with the dry-rot ; and 
 the doors and windows were so much warped and 
 sprung, that it required an effort to close them. The 
 furniture was on a par with the rest. 
 
 " How everything does wear out ! " sighed Mme.
 
 234 ' OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Fortin. " It isn't ten years since I bought that furni- 
 ture." 
 
 In point of fact it was over fifteen, and even then she 
 had bought it secondhanded, and almost unfit for use. 
 The curtains retained but a vague shade of their orig- 
 inal color. The veneer was almost entirely off the bed- 
 stead. Not a single lock was in order, whether in the 
 bureau or the secretary. The rug had become a name- 
 less rag; and the broken springs of the sofa, cutting 
 through the threadbare stuff, stood up threateningly 
 like knife-blades. 
 
 The most sumptuous object was an enormous China 
 stove, which occupied almost one-half of the hall-dining- 
 room. It could not be used to make a fire ; for it had 
 no pipe. Nevertheless, Mme. Fortin refused obsti- 
 nately to take it out, under the pretext that it gave 
 such a comfortable appearance to the apartment. All 
 this elegance cost Maxence forty-five francs a month, 
 and five francs for the service; the whole payable 
 in advance from the ist to the 3d of the month. If, 
 on the 4th, a tenant came in without money, Mme. For- 
 tin squarely refused him his key, and invited him to 
 seek shelter elsewhere. 
 
 " I have been caught too often," she replied to those 
 who tried to obtain twenty-four hours' grace from her. 
 " I wouldn't trust my own father till the 5th, he who 
 was a superior officer in Napoleon's armies, and the 
 very soul of honor." 
 
 It was chance alone which had brought Maxence, 
 after the Commune, to the Hotel des Folies ; and he had 
 not been there a week, before he had fully made up his 
 mind not to wear out Mme. Fortin's furniture very long. 
 He had even already found another and more suitable 
 lodging, when, about a year ago, a certain meeting on
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 235 
 
 the stairs had modified all his views, and lent a charm 
 to his apartment which he did not suspect. 
 
 As he was going out one morning to his office, he met 
 on the very landing a rather tall and very dark girl, who 
 had just come running up stairs. She passed before 
 him like a flash, opened the opposite door, and disap- 
 peared. But, rapid as the apparition had been, it had 
 left in Maxence's mind one of those impressions which 
 are never obliterated. He could not think of any thing 
 else the whole day; and after business-hours, instead 
 of going to dine in Rue St. Gilles, as usual, he sent a 
 despatch to his mother to tell her not to wait for him, 
 and bravely went home. 
 
 But it was in vain, that, during the whole evening, 
 he kept watch behind his door, left slyly ajar: he did 
 not get a glimpse of the neighbor. Neither did she 
 show herself on the next or the three following days; 
 and Maxence was beginning to despair, when at last, 
 on Sunday, as he w.as going down stairs, he met her 
 again face to face. He had thought her quite pretty at 
 the first glance: this time he was dazzled to that ex- 
 tent, that he remained for over a minute, standing like 
 a statue against the wall. 
 
 And certainly it was not her dress that helped setting 
 off her beauty. She wore a poor dress of black merino, 
 a narrow collar, and plain cuffs, and a bonnet of the 
 utmost simplicity. She had nevertheless an air of in- 
 comparable dignity, a grace that charmed,, and yet in- 
 spired respect, and the carriage of a queen. This was 
 on the 3Oth of July. As he was handing in his key, 
 before leaving, 
 
 " My apartment suits me well enough," said Maxence 
 to Mme. Fortin : " I shall keep it. And here are fifty 
 francs for the month of August."
 
 236 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And, while the landlady was making out a receipt, 
 
 " You never told me," he began with his most indif- 
 ferent look, " that I had a neighbor." 
 
 Mme. Fortin straightened herself up like an old war- 
 horse that hears the sound of the bugle. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " she said, " Mademoiselle Lucienne." 
 
 " Lucienne," repeated Maxence : " that's a pretty 
 name." 
 
 " Have you seen her ? " 
 
 " I have just seen her. She's rather good looking." 
 
 The worthy landlady jumped on her chair. 
 
 " Rather good looking ! " she interrupted. " You 
 must be hard to please, my dear sir; for I, who am a 
 judge, I affirm that you might hunt Paris over for four 
 whole days without finding such a handsome girl. 
 Rather good looking ! A girl who has hair that comes 
 down to her knees, a dazzling complexion, eyes as big 
 as this, and teeth whiter than that cat's. All right, my 
 friend. You'll wear out more than one pair of boots 
 running after women before you catch one like her." 
 
 That was exactly Maxence's opinion ; and yet with his 
 coldest look, 
 
 " Has she been long your tenant, dear Mme. Fortin ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " A little over a year. She was here during the 
 siege; and just then, as she could not pay her rent, I 
 was, of course, going to send her off; but she went 
 straight to the commissary of police, who came here, 
 and forbade me to turn out either her or anybody else. 
 As if people were not masters in their own house ! " 
 
 " That was perfectly absurd ! " objected Maxence, 
 who was determined to gain the good graces of the 
 landlady. 
 
 " Never heard of such a thing ! " she went on.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 237 
 
 " Compel you to lodge people free ! Why not feed them 
 too? In short, she remained so long, that, after the 
 Commune, she owed me a hundred and eighty francs. 
 Then she said, that, if I would let her stay, she would 
 pay me each month in advance, besides the rent, ten 
 francs on the old account. I agreed, and. she has al- 
 ready paid up twenty francs." 
 
 " Poor girl ! " said Maxence. 
 
 But Mme. Fortin shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Really," she replied, " I don't pity her much ; for, 
 if she only wanted, in forty-eight hours I should be paid, 
 and she would have something else on her back besides 
 that old black rag. I tell her every day, ' In these days, 
 my child, there is but one reliable friend, which is better 
 than all others, and which must be taken as it comes, 
 without making any faces if it is a little dirty: that's 
 money.' But all my preaching goes for nothing. I 
 might as well sing/' 
 
 Maxence was listening with intense delight. 
 
 " In short, what does she do? " he asked. 
 
 " That's more than I know," replied Mme. Fortin. 
 " The young lady has not much to say. All I know is, 
 that she leaves every morning bright and early, and 
 rarely gets home before eleven. On Sunday she stays 
 home, reading ; and sometimes, in the evening, she goes 
 out, always alone, to ^ome theatre or ball. Ah ! she is 
 an odd one, I tell you ! " 
 
 A lodger who came in interrupted the landlady ; and 
 Maxence walked off, dreaming how he could manage to 
 make the acquaintance of his pretty and eccentric 
 neighbor. 
 
 Because he had once spent some hundreds of napo- 
 leons in the company of young ladies with yellow chig- 
 nons, Maxence fancied himself a man of experience.
 
 238 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and had but little faith in the virtue of a girl of twenty, 
 living alone in a hotel, and left sole mistress of her own 
 fancy. He began to watch for every occasion of meet- 
 ing her ; and, towards the last of the month, he had got 
 so far as to bow to her, and to inquire after her health. 
 But, the first time he ventured to make love to her, she 
 looked at him head to foot, and turned her back upon 
 him with so much contempt, that he remained, his 
 mouth wide open, perfectly stupefied. 
 
 " I am losing my time like a fool," he thought. 
 
 Great, then, was his surprise, when the following 
 week, on a fine afternoon, he saw Mile. Lucienne leave 
 her room, no longer clad in her eternal black dress, but 
 wearing a brilliant and extremely rich toilet. With a 
 beating heart he followed her. 
 
 In front of the Hotel des Folies stood a handsome 
 carriage and horses. 
 
 As soon as Mile. Lucienne appeared, a footman 
 opened respectfully the carriage-door. She went in ; 
 and the horses started at a full trot. 
 
 Maxence watched the carriage disappear in the dis- 
 tance, like a child who sees the bird fly upon which he 
 hoped to lay hands. 
 
 " Gone," he muttered, " gone ! " 
 
 But, when he turned around, he found himself face to 
 face with the Fortins, man and wife, who were laughing 
 a sinister laugh. 
 
 " What did I tell you ? " exclaimed Mme Fortin. 
 " There she is, started at last. Get up, horse ! She'll 
 do well, the child." 
 
 The magnificent equipage and elegant dress had al- 
 ready produced quite an effect among the neighbors. 
 The customers sitting in front of the cafe were laughing 
 among themselves. The confectioner and his wife were
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 239 
 
 casting indignant glances at the proprietors of the Hotel 
 des Folies. 
 
 " You see, M. Favoral," replied Mme. Fortin, " such 
 a girl as that was not made for our neighborhood. You 
 must make up your mind to it; you won't see much 
 more of her on the Boulevard du Temple." 
 
 Without saying a word, Maxence ran to his room, 
 the hot tears streaming from his eyes. He felt ashamed 
 of himself; for, after all, what was this girl to him? 
 " She is gone ! " he repeated to himself. " Well, 
 good-by, let her go ! " 
 
 But, despite all his efforts at philosophy, he felt an 
 immense sadness invading his heart : ill-defined regrets 
 and spasms of anger agitated him. He was thinking 
 what a fool he had been to believe in the grand airs of 
 the young lady, and that, if he had had dresses and 
 horses to give her, she might not have received him so 
 harshly. At last he made up his mind to think no more 
 of her, one of those fine resolutions which are always 
 taken, and never kept; and in the evening he left his 
 room to go and dine in the Rue St. Gilles. 
 
 But, as was often his custom, he stopped at the cafe 
 next door, and called for a drink. He was mixing his 
 absinthe when he saw the carriage that had carried off 
 Mile. Lucienne in the morning returning at a rapid gait, 
 and stopping short in front of the hotel. Mile. Luci- 
 enne got out slowly, crossed the sidewalk, and entered 
 the narrow corridor. Almost immediately, the carriage 
 turned around, and drove off. 
 
 " What does it mean ? " thought Maxence, who was 
 actually forgetting to swallow his absinthe. 
 
 He was losing himself in absurd conjectures, when, 
 some fifteen minutes later, he saw the girl coming out 
 again. Already she had taken off her elegant clothes,
 
 240 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and resumed her cheap black dress. She had a basket 
 on her arm, and was going towards the Rue Chariot. 
 Without further reflections, Maxence rose suddenly, 
 and started to follow her, being very careful that she 
 should not see him. After walking for five or six min- 
 utes, she entered a shop, half-eating house, and half 
 wine-shop, in the window of which a large sign could be 
 read: "Ordinary at all hours for forty centimes. 
 Hard boiled eggs, and salad of the season." 
 
 -Maxence, having crept up as close as he could, saw 
 Mile. Lucienne take a tin box out of her basket, and 
 have what is called an " ordinaire " poured into it ; that 
 is, half a pint of soup, a piece of beef as large as the fist, 
 and a few vegetables. She then had a small bottle half- 
 filled with wine, paid, and walked out with that same 
 look of grave dignity which she always wore. 
 
 " Funny dinner," murmured Maxence, " for a woman 
 who was spreading herself just now in a ten-thousand- 
 franc carriage." 
 
 From that moment she became the sole and only ob- 
 ject of his thoughts. A passion, which he no longer 
 attempted to resist, was penetrating like a subtle poison 
 to the innermost depths of his being. He thought him- 
 self happy, when, after watching for hours, he caught a 
 glimpse of this singular creature, who, after that extra- 
 ordinary expedition, seemed to have resumed her usual 
 mode of life. Mme. Fortin was dumfounded. 
 
 " She has been too exacting," she said to Maxence, 
 " and the thing has fallen through." 
 
 He made no answer. He felt a perfect horror for the 
 honorable landlady's insinuations; and yet he never 
 ceased to repeat to himself that he must be a great sim- 
 pleton to have faith for a moment in that young lady's 
 virtue. What would he not have given to be able to
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 241 
 
 question her? But he dared not. Often he would 
 gather up his courage, and wait for her on the stairs; 
 but, as soon as she fixed upon him her great black eye, 
 all the phrases he had prepared took flight from his 
 brain, his tongue clove to his mouth, and he could 
 barely succeed in stammering out a timid, 
 
 " Good-morning, mademoiselle." 
 
 He felt so angry with himself, that he was almost on 
 the point of leaving the Hotel des Folies, when one 
 evening : 
 
 " Well," said Mme. Fortin to him, " all is made up 
 again, it seems. The beautiful carriage called again to- 
 day." 
 
 Maxence could have beaten her. 
 
 " What good would it do you," he replied, " if Luci- 
 enne were to turn out badly ? " 
 
 " It's always a pleasure," she grumbled, " to have one 
 more woman tc torment the men. Those are the girls, 
 you see, who avenge us poor honest women ! " 
 
 The sequel seemed at first to justify her worst pre- 
 visions. Three times during that week, Mile. Lucienne 
 rode out in grand style ; but as she always returned, and 
 always resumed her eternal black woolen dress, 
 
 " I can't make head or tail of it," thought Maxence. 
 " But, never mind, I'll clear the matter up yet." 
 
 He applied, and obtained leave of absence ; and from 
 the very next day he took up a position behind the 
 window of the adjoining cafe. On the first day he lost 
 his time ; but on the second day, at about three o'clock, 
 the famous equipage made its appearance; and, a few 
 moments later, Mile. Lucienne took a seat in it. Her 
 toilet was richer, and more showy still, than the first 
 time. Maxence jumped into a cab. 
 
 " You see that carriage," he said to the coachman.
 
 242 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Wherever it goes, you must follow it. I give ten 
 francs extra pay." 
 
 " All right ! " replied the driver, whipping up his 
 horses. 
 
 And much need he had, too, of whipping them; for 
 the carriage that carried off Mile. Lucienne started at 
 full trot down the Boulevards, to the Madeleine, then 
 along the Rue Royale, and through the Place de la 
 Concorde, to the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, where 
 the horses were brought down to a walk. It was the 
 end of September, and one of those lovely autumnal 
 days which are a last smile of the blue sky and the last 
 caress of the sun. 
 
 There were races in the Bois de Boulogne; and the 
 equipages were five and six abreast on the avenue. The 
 side-alleys were crowded with idlers. Maxence, from 
 the inside of his cab, never lost sight of Mile. Lucienne. 
 
 She was evidently creating a sensation. The men 
 stopped to look at her with gaping admiration: the 
 women leaned out of their carriages to see her better. 
 
 " Where can she be going ? " Maxence wondered. 
 
 She was going to the Bois; and soon her carriage 
 joined the interminable line of equipages which were 
 following the grand drive at a walk. It became easier 
 now to follow on foot. Maxence sent off his cab to 
 wait for him at a particular spot, and took the pedes- 
 trians' road, that follows the edge of the lakes. He had 
 not gone fifty steps, however, before he heard some one 
 call him. He turned around, and, within two lengths 
 of his cane, saw M. Saint Pavin and M. Costeclar. 
 Maxence hardly knew M. Saint Pavin, whom he had 
 only seen two or three times in the Rue St. Gilles, and 
 execrated M. Costeclar. Still he advanced towards 
 them.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 243 
 
 Mile. Lucienne's carriage was now caught in the file ; 
 and he was sure of joining it whenever he thought 
 proper. 
 
 " It is a miracle to see you here, my dear Maxence ! " 
 exclaimed M. Costeclar, loud enough to attract the at- 
 tention of several persons. 
 
 To occupy the attention of others, anyhow and at 
 any cost, was M. Costeclar's leading object in life. That 
 was evident from the style of his dress, the shape of his 
 hat, the bright stripes of his shirt, his ridiculous shirt- 
 collar, his cuffs, his boots, his gloves, his cane, every 
 thing, in fact. 
 
 " If you see us on foot," he added, " it is because we 
 wanted to walk a little. The doctor's prescription, my 
 dear. My carriage is yonder, behind those trees. Do 
 you recognize my dapple-grays ? " And he extended 
 his cane in that direction, as if he were addressing him- 
 self, not to Maxence alone, but to all those who were 
 passing by. 
 
 " Very well, very well ! everybody knows you have a 
 carriage," interrupted M. Saint Pavin. 
 
 The editor of " The Financial Pilot " was the living 
 contrast of his companion. More slovenly still than 
 M. Costeclar was careful of his dress, he exhibited cyni- 
 cally a loose cravat rolled over a shirt worn two or three 
 days, a coat white with lint and plush, muddy boots, 
 though it had not rained for a week, and large red 
 hands, surprisingly filthy. 
 
 He was but the more proud ; and he wore, cocked up 
 to one side, a hat that had not known a brush since the 
 day it had left the hatter's. 
 
 " That fellow Costeclar," he went on, " he won't 
 believe that there are in France a number of people who 
 live and die without ever having owned a horse or a
 
 244 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 coupe; which is a fact, nevertheless. Those fellow.s 
 who were born with fifty or sixty thousand francs' in- 
 come in their baby-clothes are all alike." 
 
 The unpleasant intention was evident ; but M. Coste- 
 clar was not the man to get angry for such a trifle. 
 
 " You are in bad humor to-day, old fellow," he said. 
 
 The editor of " The Financial Pilot " made a threat- 
 ening gesture. 
 
 " Well, yes," he answered, " I am in bad humor, like 
 a man who for ten years past has been beating the drum 
 
 in front of your d d financial shops, and who does 
 
 not pay expenses. Yes, for ten years I have shouted 
 myself hoarse for your benefit : ' Walk in, ladies and 
 gentlemen, and, for every twenty-cent-piece you deposit 
 with us, we will return you a five-franc-piece. Walk 
 in, follow the crowd, step up to the office: this is the 
 time.' They go in. You receive mountains of twenty- 
 cent-pieces: you never return anything, neither a five- 
 franc-piece, nor even a centime. The trick is done, the 
 public is sold. You drive your own carriage ; you sus- 
 pend diamonds to your mistress' ears ; and I, the organ- 
 izer of success, whose puffs open the tightest closed 
 pockets, and start up the old louis from the bottom of 
 the old woolen stocking, I am driven to have my boots 
 half-soled. You stint me my existence; you kick as 
 soon as I ask you to pay for the big drums bursted in 
 your behalf." 
 
 He spoke so loud, that three or four idlers had 
 stopped. Without being very shrew.d, Maxence under- 
 stood readily that he had happened in in the midst of an 
 acrimonious discussion. Closely pressed, and desirous 
 of gaining time, M. Costeclar had called him in the 
 hopes of effecting a diversion. 
 
 Bowing, therefore, politely,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 245 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen," he said : " I fear I have in- 
 terrupted you." 
 
 But M. Costeclar detained him. 
 
 " Don't go," he declared ; " you must come down 
 and take a class of Madeira with us, down at the Cas- 
 cade." 
 
 And, turning to the editor of " The Pilot " 
 
 " Come, now, shut up," he said : " you shall have what 
 you want." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 " Upon my word." 
 
 " I'd rather have two or three lines in black and 
 white." 
 
 " I'll give them to you to-night." 
 
 " All right, then ! Forward the big guns ! Look 
 out for next Sunday's number ! " 
 
 Peace being made, the gentlemen continued their walk 
 in the most friendly manner, M. Costeclar pointing out 
 to Maxence all the celebrities who were passing by them 
 in their carriages. 
 
 He had just designated to his attention Mme. and 
 Mile, de Thaller, accompanied by two gigantic foot- 
 men, when, suddenly interrupting himself, and rising 
 on tiptoe, 
 
 "Sacre bleu!" he exclaimed: "what a handsome 
 woman ! " 
 
 Without too much affectation, Maxence fell back a 
 step or two. He felt himself blushing to his very ears, 
 and trembled lest his sudden emotion were noticed, and 
 he were questioned ; for it was Mile. Lucienne who thus 
 excited M. Costeclar's noisy enthusiasm. Once already 
 she had been around the lake; and she was continuing 
 her circular drive. 
 
 " Positively," approved the editor of " The Financial
 
 246 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Pilot," " she is somewhat better than the rest of those 
 ladies we have just seen going by." 
 
 M. Costeclar was on the point of pulling out what lit- 
 tle hair he had left. 
 
 " And I don't know her ! " he went on. " A lovely 
 woman rides in the Bois, and I don't know who she is ! 
 That is ridiculous and prodigious ! Who can post us ? " 
 
 A little ways off stood a group of gentlemen, who had 
 also just left their carriages, and were looking on this 
 interminable procession of equipages and this amazing 
 display of toilets. 
 
 " They are friends of mine," said M. Costeclar : " let 
 us join them." 
 
 They did so ; and, after the usual greetings, 
 
 " Who is that? " inquired M. Costeclar, " that dark 
 person, whose carriage follows Mme. de Thaller's ? " 
 
 An old young man, with scanty hair, dyed beard, and 
 a most impudent smile, answered him, 
 
 " That's just what we are trying to find out. None 
 of us have ever seen her." 
 
 " I must and shall find out," interrupted M. Costeclar. 
 " I have a very intelligent servant " 
 
 Already he was starting in the direction of the spot 
 where his carriage was waiting for him. The old beau 
 stopped him. 
 
 " Don't bother yourself, my dear friend," he said. 
 " I have also a servant who is no fool ; and he has had 
 my orders for over fifteen minutes." 
 
 The others burst out laughing. 
 
 " Distanced, Costeclar ! " exclaimed M. Saint Pavin, 
 who, notwithstanding his slovenly dress and cynic man- 
 ners, seemed perfectly well received. 
 
 No one was now paying any attention to Maxence; 
 and he slipped off without the slightest care as to what
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 247 
 
 M. Costeclar might* think. Reaching the spot where 
 his cab awaited him, 
 
 " Which way, boss? " inquired the driver. 
 
 Maxence hesitated. What better had he to do than to 
 go home ? And yet 
 
 " We'll wait for that same carriage," he answered ; 
 " and we'll follow it on the return." 
 
 But he learned nothing further. Mile. Lucienne 
 drove straight to the Boulevard du Temple, and, as be- 
 fore, immediately resumed her eternal black dress ; and 
 Maxence saw. her go to the little restaurant for her 
 modest dinner. 
 
 But he saw something else too. 
 
 Almost on the heels of the girl, a servant in livery 
 entered the hotel corridor, and only went off after re- 
 maining a full quarter of an hour in busy conference 
 with Mme. Fortin. 
 
 " It's all over," thought the poor fellow. " Lucienne 
 will not be much longer my neighbor." 
 
 He was mistaken. A month went by without bring- 
 ing about any change. As in the past, she went out 
 early, came home late, and on Sundays remained alone 
 all day in her room. Once or twice a week, when the 
 weather was fine, the carriage came for her at about 
 three o'clock, and brought her home at nightfall. Max- 
 ence had exhausted all conjectures, when one evening, 
 it was the 3ist of October, as he was coming in to go 
 to bed, he heard a loud sound of voices in the office of 
 the hotel. Led by an instinctive curiosity, he ap- 
 proached on tiptoe, so as to see and hear every thing. 
 The Fortins and Mile. Lucienne were having a great 
 discussion. 
 
 " That's all nonsense," shrieked the worthy landlady ; 
 " and I mean to be paid."
 
 248 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Mile. Lucienne was quite calm. 
 
 " Well," she replied : " don't I pay you ? Here are 
 forty francs, thirty in advance for my room, and ten 
 on the old account." 
 
 " I don't want your ten francs ! " 
 
 " What do you want, then? " 
 
 " All, the hundred and fifty francs which you owe 
 me still." 
 
 The girl shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " You forget our agreement," she uttered. 
 
 " Our agreement? " 
 
 " Yes. After the Commune, it was understood that I 
 would give you ten francs a month on the old account ; 
 as long as I give them to you, you have nothing to 
 ask." 
 
 Crimson with rage, Mme. Fortin had risen from her 
 seat. 
 
 " Formerly," she interrupted, " I presumed I had to 
 deal with a poor working-girl, an honest girl." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne took no notice of the insult. 
 
 " I have not the amount you ask," she said coldly. 
 
 " Well, then," vociferated the other, " you must go 
 and ask it of those who pay for your carriages and your 
 dresses." 
 
 Still impassible, the girl, instead of answering, 
 stretched her hand towards her key; but M. Fortin 
 stopped her arm. 
 
 " No, no ! " he said with a giggle. " People who 
 don't pay their hotel-bill sleep out, my darling." 
 
 Maxence, that very morning, had received his 
 month's pay, and he felt, as it were, his two hundred 
 francs trembling in his pockets. 
 
 Yielding to a sudden inspiration, he threw open the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 249 
 
 office-door, and, throwing down one hundred and fifty 
 francs upon the table, 
 
 " Here is your money, wretch ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 And he withdrew at once. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 MAXENCE had not spoken to Mile. Lucienne for 
 nearly a month. He tried to persuade himself that she 
 despised him because he was poor. He kept watching 
 for her, for he could not help it ; but as much as possible 
 he avoided her. 
 
 " I shall be miserable," he thought, " the day when 
 she does not come home ; and yet it would be the very 
 best thing that could happen for me." 
 
 Nevertheless, he spent all his time trying to find some 
 explanations for the conduct of this strange girl, who, 
 beneath her woolen dress, had the haughty manners of 
 a great lady. Then he delighted to imagine between her 
 and himself some of those subjects of confidence, some 
 of those facilities which chance never fails to supply to 
 attentive passion, or some event which would enable 
 him to emerge from his obscurity, and to acquire some 
 rights by virtue of some great service rendered. 
 
 But never had he dared to hope for an occasion as 
 propitious as the one he had just seized. And yet, after 
 he had returned to his room, he hardly dared to con- 
 gratulate himself upon the promptitude of his decision. 
 He knew too well Mile. Lucienne's excessive pride and 
 sensitive nature. 
 
 " I should not be surprised if she were angry with 
 me for what I've done," he thought.
 
 250 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 The evening being quite chilly, he had lighted a few 
 sticks ; and, sitting by the fireside, he was waiting, his 
 mind filled with Vague hopes. It seemed to him that 
 his neighbor could not absolve herself from coming to 
 thank him ; and he was listening intently to all the noises 
 of the house, starting at the sound of footsteps on the 
 stairs, and at the slamming of doors. Ten times, at 
 least, he went out on tiptoe to lean out of the window 
 on the landing, to make sure that there was no light in 
 Mile. Lucienne's room. At eleven o'clock she had not 
 yet come home; and he was deliberating whether he 
 would not start out in quest of information, when there 
 was a knock at the door. 
 
 " Come in ! " he cried, in a voice choked with emotion. 
 
 Mile. Lucienne came in. She was somewhat paler 
 than usual, but calm and perfectly self-possessed. Hav- 
 ing bowed without the slightest shade of embarrassment, 
 she laid upon the mantel-piece the thirty five-franc-notes 
 which Maxence had thrown down to the Fortins ; and, 
 in her most natural tone, 
 
 " Here are your hundred and fifty francs, sir," she 
 uttered. " I am more grateful than I can express for 
 your prompt kindness in lending them to me ; but I did 
 not need them." 
 
 Maxence had risen from his seat, and was making 
 every effort to control his own feelings. 
 
 " Still," he began, " after what I heard " 
 
 " Yes," she interrupted, " Mme. Fortin and her hus- 
 band were trying to frighten me. But they were losing 
 their time. When, after the Commune, I settled with 
 them the manner in which I would discharge my debt 
 towards them, having a just estimate of their worth, I 
 made them write out and sign our agreement. Being in 
 the right, I could resist them, and was resisting them
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 25! 
 
 when you threw them those hundred and fifty francs. 
 Having laid hands upon them, they had the pretension to 
 keep them. That's what I could not suffer. Not being 
 able to recover them by main force, I went at once to the 
 commissary of police. He was luckily at his office. He 
 is an honest man, who already, once before, helped me 
 out of a scrape. He listened to me kindly, and was 
 moved by my explanations. Notwithstanding the late- 
 ness of the hour, he put on his overcoat, and came with 
 me to see our landlord. After compelling them to return 
 me your money, he signified to them to observe strictly 
 our agreement, under penalty of incurring his utmost 
 severity." 
 
 Maxence was wonderstruck. 
 
 " How could you dare? " he said. 
 
 "Wasn't I in the right?" 
 
 " Oh, a thousand times yes ! Still " 
 
 " What ? Should my right be less respected because I 
 am but a woman? And, because I have no one to pro- 
 tect me, am I outside the law, and condemned in ad- 
 vance to suffer the iniquitous fancies of every scoun- 
 drel ? No, thank Heaven ! Henceforth I shall feel easy. 
 People like the Fortins, who live of I know not what 
 shameful traffic, have too much to fear from the police 
 to dare to molest me further." 
 
 The resentment of the insult could be read in her 
 great black eyes ; and a bitter disgust contracted her lips. 
 
 " Besides," she added, " the commissary had no need 
 of my explanations to understand what abject inspira- 
 tions the Fortins were following. The wretches had in 
 their pocket the wages of their infamy. In refusing me 
 my key, in throwing me out in the street at ten o'clock 
 at night, they hoped to drive me to seek the assistance 
 of the base coward who paid their odious treason. And
 
 252 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 we know the price which men demand for the slightest 
 service they render to a woman." 
 
 Maxence turned pale. The idea flashed upon his mind 
 that it was to him, perhaps, that these last words were 
 addressed. 
 
 " Ah, I swear it ! " he exclaimed, " it is without after- 
 thought that I tried to help you. You do not owe me 
 any thanks even." 
 
 " I do not thank you any the less, though," she said 
 gently, " and from the bottom of my heart " 
 
 " It was so little ! " 
 
 " Intention alone makes the value of a service, neigh- 
 bor. And, besides, do not say that a hundred and fifty 
 francs are nothing to you: perhaps you do not earn 
 much more each month." 
 
 " I confess it," he said, blushing a little. 
 
 " You see, then ? No, it was not to you that my words 
 were addressed, but to the man who has paid the Fortins. 
 He was waiting on the Boulevard, the result of the ma- 
 noeuvre, which, they thought, was about to place me at 
 his mercy. He ran quickly to me when I went out, and 
 followed me all the way to the office of the commissary 
 of police, as he follows me everywhere for the past 
 month, with his sickening gallantries and his degrading 
 propositions." 
 
 The eye flashing with anger, 
 
 " Ah, if I had known ! " exclaimed Maxence. " If 
 you had told me but a word ! " 
 
 She smiled at his vehemence. 
 
 " What would you have done ? " she said. " You can- 
 not impart intelligence to a fool, heart to a coward, or 
 delicacy of feeling to a boor." 
 
 " I could have chastised the miserable insulter." 
 
 She had a superb gesture of indifference.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 253 
 
 " Bash ! " she interrupted. " What are insults to me ? 
 I am so accustomed to them, that they no longer have 
 any effect upon me. I am eighteen : I have neither fam- 
 ily, relatives, friends, nor any one in the world who even 
 knows my existence ; and I live by my labor. Can't you 
 see what must be the humiliations of each day ? Since I 
 was eight years old, I have been earning the bread I eat, 
 the dress I wear, and the rent of the den where I sleep. 
 Can you understand what I have endured, to what ig- 
 nominies I have been exposed, what traps have been set 
 for me, and how it has happened to me sometimes to 
 owe my safety to mere physical force ? And yet I do not 
 complain, since through it all I have been able to retain 
 the respect of myself, and to remain virtuous in spite 
 of all." 
 
 She was laughing a laugh that had something wild in 
 it. 
 
 And, as Maxence was looking at her with immense 
 surprise, 
 
 " That seems strange to you, doesn't it ? " she re- 
 sumed. " A girl of eighteen, without a sou, free as air, 
 very pretty, and yet virtuous in the midst of Paris. 
 Probably you don't believe it, or, if you do, you just 
 think, ' What on earth does she make by it ? ' 
 
 " And really you are right ; for, after all, who cares, 
 and who thinks any the more of me, if I work sixteen 
 hours a day to remain virtuous ? But it's a fancy of my 
 own ; and don't imagine for a moment that I am deterred 
 by any scruples, or by timidity, or ignorance. No, no ! 
 I believe in nothing. I fear nothing; and I know as 
 much as the oldest libertines, the most vicious, and the 
 most depraved. And I don't say that I have not been 
 tempted sometimes, when, coming home from work, I'd 
 see some of them coming out of the restaurants, splen-
 
 254 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 didly dressed, on their lover's arm, and getting into car- 
 riages to go to the theatre. There were moments when 
 I was cold and hungry, and when, not knowing where 
 to sleep, I wandered all night through the streets like 
 a lost dog. There were hours when I felt sick of all 
 this misery, and when I said to myself, that, since it was 
 my fate to end in the hospital, I might as well make the 
 trip gayly. But what ! I should have had to traffic my 
 person, to sell myself ! " 
 
 She shuddered, and in a hoarse voice, 
 
 " I would rather die," she said. 
 
 It was difficult to reconcile words such as these with 
 certain circumstances of Mile. Lucienne's existence, 
 her rides around the lake, for instance, in that carriage 
 that came for her two or three times a week ; her ever 
 renewed costumes, each time more eccentric and more 
 showy. But Maxence was not thinking of that. What 
 she told him he accepted as absolutely true and indis- 
 putable. And he felt penetrated with an almost religious 
 admiration for this young and beautiful girl, possessed 
 of so much vivid energy, who alone, through the 
 hazards, the perils, and the temptations of Paris, had 
 succeeded in protecting and defending herself. 
 
 " And yet," he said, " without suspecting it, you had 
 a friend near you." 
 
 She shuddered ; and a pale smile flitted upon her lips. 
 She knew well enough what friendship means between 
 a youth of twenty-five and a girl of eighteen. 
 
 " A friend ! " she murmured. 
 
 Maxence guessed her thought; and, in all the sin- 
 cerity of his soul, 
 
 " Yes, a friend," he repeated, " a comrade, a brother." 
 
 And thinking to touch her, and gain her confidence,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 255 
 
 "I could understand you," he added; "for I, to 
 have been very unhappy." 
 
 But he was singularly mistaken. She looked at him 
 with an astonished air, and slowly, 
 
 " You unhappy ! " she uttered, " you who have a 
 family, relations, a mother who adores you, a sister." 
 
 Less excited, Maxence might have wondered how she 
 had found this out, and would have concluded that she 
 must feel some interest in him, since she had doubtless 
 taken the trouble of getting information. 
 
 " Besides, you are a man," she went on ; " and I do 
 not understand how a man can complain. Have you not 
 the freedom, the strength, and the right to undertake 
 and to dare any thing? Isn't the world open to your 
 activity and to your ambition? Woman submits to her 
 fate : man makes his." 
 
 This was hurting the dearest pretensions of Maxence, 
 who seriously thought that he had exhausted the rigors 
 of adversity. 
 
 " There are circumstances," he began. 
 
 But she shrugged her shoulders gently, and, inter- 
 rupting him, 
 
 " Do not insist," she said, " or else I might think that 
 you lack energy. What are you talking of circum- 
 stances? There are none so adverse but that can be 
 overcome. What would you like, then ? To be born with 
 a hundred thousand francs a year, and have nothing to 
 do but to live according to your whim of each day, idle, 
 satiated, a burden upon yourself, useless, or offensive to 
 others? Ah! If I were a man, I would dream of an- 
 other fate. I should like to start from the Foundling 
 Asylum, without a name, and by my will, my intelli- 
 gence, my daring, and my labor, make something and
 
 256 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 somebody of myself. I would start from nothing, and 
 become every thing ! " 
 
 With flashing eyes and quivering nostrils, she drew 
 herself up proudly. But almost at once, dropping her 
 head, 
 
 " The misfortune is," she added, " that I am but a 
 woman ; and you who complain, if you only knew " 
 
 She sat down, and with her elbow on the little table, 
 her head resting upon her hand, she remained lost in 
 her meditations, her eyes fixed, as if following through 
 space all the phases of the eighteen years of her life. 
 
 There is no energy but unbends at some given mo- 
 ment, no will but has its hour of weakness ; and, strong 
 and energetic as was Mile. Lucienne, she had been 
 deeply touched by Maxence's act. Had she, then, found 
 at last upon her path the companion of whom she had 
 often dreamed in the despairing hours of solitude and 
 wretchedness? After a few moments, she raised her 
 head, and, looking into Maxence's eyes with a gaze that 
 made him quiver like the shock of an electric battery, 
 
 " Doubtless," she said, in a tone of indifference some- 
 what forced, " you think you have in me a strange 
 neighbor. Well, as between neighbors, it is well to know 
 each other. Before you judge me, listen." 
 
 The recommendation was useless. Maxence was 
 listening with all the powers of his attention. 
 
 " I was brought up," she began, " in a village of the 
 neighborhood of Paris, in Louveciennes. My mother 
 had put me out to nurse with some honest gardeners, 
 poor, and burdened with a large family. After two 
 months, hearing nothing of my mother, they wrote to 
 her : she made no answer. They then went to Paris, and 
 called at the address she had given them. She had just
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 257 
 
 moved out; and no one knew what had become of her. 
 They could no longer, therefore, expect a single sou for 
 the cares they would bestow upon me. They kept me, 
 nevertheless, thinking that one child the more would not 
 make much difference. I know nothing of my parents, 
 therefore, except what I heard through these kind gar- 
 deners ; and, as I was still quite young when I had the 
 misfortune to lose them, I have but a very vague remem- 
 brance of what they told me. I remember very well, 
 however, that according to their statements, my mother 
 was a young working-woman of rare beauty, and that, 
 very likely, she was not my father's wife. If I was ever 
 told the name of my mother or my father, if I ever knew 
 it, I have quite forgotten it. I had myself no name. My 
 adopted parents called me the Parisian. I was happy, 
 nevertheless, with these kind people, and treated exactly 
 like their own children. In winter, they sent me to 
 school; in summer, I helped weeding the garden. I 
 drove a sheep or two along the road, or else I went to 
 gather violets and strawberries through the woods. 
 
 " This was the happiest, indeed, the only happy time 
 of my life, towards which my thoughts may turn when I 
 feel despair and discouragement getting the better of 
 me. Alas ! I was but eight, when, within the same week, 
 the gardener and his wife were both carried off by the 
 same disease, inflammation of the lungs. 
 
 " On a freezing December morning, in that house 
 upon which the hand of death had just fallen, we found 
 ourselves, six children, the oldest of whom was not 
 eleven, crying with grief, fright, cold, and hunger. 
 
 " Neither the gardener nor his wife had any rela- 
 tives ; and they left nothing but a few wretched pieces 
 of furniture, the sale of which barely sufficed to pay
 
 258 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the expenses of their funeral. The two younger children 
 were taken to an asylum : the others were taken charge 
 of by the neighbors. 
 
 " It was a laundress of Marly who took me. I was 
 quite tall and strong for my age. She made an appren- 
 tice of me. She was not unkind by nature ; but she was 
 violent and brutal in the extreme. She compelled me to 
 do an excessive amount of work, and often of a kind 
 above my strength. 
 
 " Fifty times a day, I had to go from the river to the 
 house, carrying on my shoulders enormous bundles of 
 wet napkins or sheets, wring them, spread them out, 
 and then run to Rueil to get the soiled clothes from the 
 customers. I did not complain (I was already too proud 
 to complain) ; but, if I was ordered to do something 
 that seemed to me too unjust, I refused obstinately to 
 obey, and then I was unmercifully beaten. In spite of 
 all, I might, perhaps, have become attached to the 
 woman, had she not had the disgusting habit of drink- 
 ing. Every week regularly, on the day when she took 
 the clothes to Paris (it was on Wednesdays), she came 
 home drunk. And then, according as, with the fumes 
 of the wine, anger or gayety rose to her brain, there 
 were atrocious scenes or obscene jests. 
 
 " When she was in that condition, she inspired me 
 with horror. And one Wednesday, as I showed my 
 feelings too plainly, she struck me so hard, that she 
 broke my arm. I had been with her for twenty months. 
 The injury she had done me sobered her at once. She 
 became frightened, overpowered me with caresses, beg- 
 ging me to say nothing to any one. I promised, and 
 kept faithfully my word. 
 
 " But a physician had to be called in. There had been 
 witnesses who spoke. The story spread along the river,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 259 
 
 as far as Bougival and Rueil. And one morning an offi- 
 cer of gendarmes called at the house; and I don't ex- 
 actly know what would have happened, if I had not ob- 
 stinately maintained that I had broken my arm in falling 
 down stairs." 
 
 What surprised Maxence most was Mile. Lucienne's 
 simple and natural tone. No emphasis, scarcely an ap- 
 pearance of emotion. One might have thought it was 
 somebody's else life that she was narrating. 
 
 Meantime she was going on, 
 
 " Thanks to my obstinate denials the woman was not 
 disturbed. But the truth was known ; and her reputation, 
 which was not good before, became altogether bad. I 
 became an object of interest. The very same people who 
 had seen me twenty times staggering painfully under a 
 load of wet clothes, which was terrible, began to pity me 
 prodigiously because I had had an arm broken, which 
 was nothing. 
 
 " At last a number of our customers arranged to take 
 me out of a house, in which, they said, I must end by 
 perishing under bad treatment. 
 
 " And, after many fruitless efforts, they discovered, 
 at last, at La Jonchere, an old Jewess lady, very rich, 
 and a widow without children, who consented to take 
 charge of me. 
 
 " I hesitated at, first to accept these offers ; but noticing 
 that the laundress, since she had hurt me, had conceived 
 a still greater aversion for me, I made up my mind to 
 leave her. 
 
 " It was on the day when I was introduced to my new 
 mistress that I first discovered I had no name. After 
 examining me at length, turning me around and around, 
 making me walk, and sit down, 
 
 " ' Now,' she inquired, ' what is your name ? '
 
 260 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " I stared at her in surprise ; for indeed I was then 
 like a savage, not having the slightest notions of the 
 things of life. 
 
 " ' My name is the Parisian,' I replied. 
 
 " She burst out laughing, as also another old lady, a 
 friend of hers, who assisted at my presentation; and I 
 remember that my little pride was quite offended at 
 their hilarity. I thought they were laughing at me. 
 
 " ' That's not a name,' they said at last. ' That's a 
 nickname.' 
 
 " ' I have no other.' 
 
 " They seemed dumfounded, repeating over and 
 over that such a thing was unheard of ; and on the spot 
 they began to look for a name for me. 
 
 " ' Where were you born ! ' inquired my new mistress. 
 
 " ' At Louveciennes.' 
 
 " ' Very well,' said the other : ' let us call her Louve- 
 cienne/ 
 
 " A long discussion followed, which irritated me so 
 much that I felt like running away; and it was agreed 
 at last, that I should be called, not Louvecienne, but 
 Lucienne; and Lucienne I have remained. 
 
 " There was nothing said about baptism, since my new 
 mistress was a Jewess. 
 
 " She was an excellent woman, although the grief 
 she had felt at the loss of her husband had somewhat de- 
 ranged her faculties. 
 
 " As soon as it was decided that I was to remain, she 
 desired to inspect my trousseau. I had none to show 
 her, possessing nothing in the world but the rags on my 
 back. As long as I had remained with the laundress, I 
 had finished wearing out her old dresses; and I had 
 never worn any other under-clothing save that which I
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 261 
 
 borrowed, ' by authority,' from the clients, an eco- 
 nomical system adopted by many laundresses. 
 
 " Dismayed at my state of destitution, my new mis- 
 tress sent for a seamstress, and at once ordered where- 
 with to dress and change me. 
 
 " Since the death of the poor gardeners, this was the 
 first time that any one paid any attention to me, ex- 
 cept to exact some service of me. I was moved to 
 tears ; and, in the excess of my gratitude, I would gladly 
 have died for that kind old lady. 
 
 " This feeling gave me the courage and the con- 
 stancy required to bear with her whimsical nature. She 
 had singular manias, disconcerting fancies, ridiculous 
 and often exorbitant exactions. I lent myself to it all as 
 best I could. 
 
 " As she already had two servants, a cook and a 
 chambermaid, I had myself no special duties in the 
 house. I accompanied her when she went out riding. I 
 helped to wait on her at table, and to dress her. I picked 
 up her handkerchief when she dropped it; and, above 
 all, I looked for her snuff-box, which she was continu- 
 ally mislaying. 
 
 " She was pleased with my docility, took much in- 
 terest in me, and, that I might read to her, she made 
 me learn to read, for I hardly knew my letters. And the 
 old man whom she gave me for a teacher, finding me in- 
 telligent, taught me all he knew, I imagine, of French, 
 of geography, and of history. 
 
 " The chambermaid, on the other hand, had been 
 commissioned to teach me to sew, to embroider, and to 
 execute all sorts of fancy-work ; and she took the more 
 interest in her lessons, that little by little she shifted 
 upon me the most tedious part of her work.
 
 262 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " I would have been happy in that pretty house at La 
 Jonchere, if I had only had some society better suited to 
 my age than the old women with whom I was compelled 
 to live, and who scolded me for a loud word or a some- 
 what abrupt gesture. What would I not have given to 
 have been allowed to play with the young girls whom I 
 saw on Sundays passing in crowds along the road ! 
 
 " As time went on, my old mistress became more and 
 more attached to me, and endeavored in every way to 
 give me proofs of her affection. I sat at table with her, 
 instead of waiting on her, as at first. She had given me 
 clothes, so that she could take me and introduce me 
 anywhere. 
 
 " She went about repeating everywhere that she was 
 as fond of me as of a daughter; that she intended to 
 set me up in life ; and that certainly she would leave a 
 part of her fortune to me. 
 
 " Alas ! She said it too loud, for my misfortune, so 
 loud, that the news reached at last the ears of some 
 nephews of hers in Paris, who came once in a while to 
 La Jonchere. 
 
 " They had never paid much attention to me up to this 
 time. Those speeches opened their eyes: they noticed 
 what progress I had made in the heart of their relative ; 
 and their cupidity became alarmed. 
 
 " Trembling lest they should lose an inheritance 
 which they considered as theirs, they united against me, 
 determined to put a stop to their aunt's generous inten- 
 tions by having me sent off. 
 
 " But it was in vain, that, for nearly a year, their 
 hatred exhausted itself in skilful manoeuvres. 
 
 " The instinct of preservation stimulating my perspi- 
 cacity I had penetrated their intentions, and I was strug-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 263 
 
 gling with all my might. Every day, to make myself 
 more indispensable, I invented some novel attention. 
 
 " They only came once a week to La Jonchere : I 
 was there all the time. I had the advantage. I struggled 
 successfully, and was probably approaching the end of 
 my troubles, when my poor old mistress was taken sick. 
 After forty-eight hours, she was very low. She was 
 fully conscious, but for that very reason she could ap- 
 preciate the danger; and the fear of death made her 
 crazy. 
 
 " Her nieces had come to sit by her bedside ; and I 
 was expressly forbidden to enter the room. They had 
 understood that this was an excellent opportunity to 
 get rid of me forever. 
 
 " Evidently gained in advance, the physicians declared 
 to my poor benefactress that the air of La Jonchere was 
 fatal to her, and that her only chance of recovery was to 
 establish herself in Paris. One of her nephews offered 
 to have her taken to his house in a litter. She would 
 soon get well, they said ; and she could then go to finish 
 her convalescence in some southern city. 
 
 " Her first word was for me. She did not wish to be 
 separated from me, she protested, and insisted abso- 
 lutely upon taking me with her. Her nephews repre- 
 sented gravely to her that this was an impossibility; 
 that she must not think of burdening herself with me ; 
 that the simplest thing was to leave me at La Jonchere ; 
 and that, moreover, they would see that I should get a 
 good situation. 
 
 " The sick woman struggled for a long time, and 
 with an energy of which I would not have thought her 
 capable. 
 
 " But the others were pressing. The physicians kept
 
 264 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 repeating that they could not answer for any thing, if 
 she did not follow their advice. She was afraid of death. 
 She yielded, weeping. 
 
 " The very next morning, a sort of litter, carried by 
 eight men, stopped in front of the door. My poor 
 mistress was laid into it; and they carried her off, 
 without even permitting me to kiss her for the last 
 time. 
 
 " Two hours later, the cook and the chambermaid 
 were dismissed. As to myself, the nephew who had 
 promised to look after me put a twenty- franc-piece in 
 my hand saying, ' Here are your eight days in advance. 
 Pack up your things immediately, and clear out ! ' ' 
 
 It was impossible that Mile. Lucienne should not be 
 deeply moved whilst thus stirring the ashes of her past. 
 She showed no evidence of it, however, except, now and 
 then, a slight alteration in her voice. 
 
 As to Maxence, he w r ould vainly have tried to conceal 
 the passionate interest with which he was listening to 
 these unexpected confidences. 
 
 " Have you, then, never seen your benefactress 
 again ? " he asked. 
 
 " Never," replied Mile. Lucienne. " All my efforts 
 to reach her have proved fruitless. She does not live in 
 Paris now. I have written to her: my letters have re- 
 mained without answer. Did she ever get them? I 
 think not. Something tells me that she has not forgotten 
 me." 
 
 She remained silent for a few moments, as if collecting 
 herself before resuming the thread of her narrative. And 
 then, 
 
 " It was thus brutally," she resumed, " that I was 
 sent off. It would have been useless to beg, I knew; 
 and, moreover, I have never known how to beg. I piled
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 265 
 
 up hurriedly in two trunks and in some bandboxes all 1 
 had in the world, all I had received from the gener- 
 osity of my poor mistress; and, before the stated hour, 
 I was ready. The cook and the chambermaid had al- 
 ready gone. The man who was treating me so cruelly 
 was waiting for me. He helped me carry out my boxes 
 and trunks, after which he locked the door, put the key 
 in his pocket; and, as the American omnibus was pass- 
 ing, he beckoned to it to stop. And then, before entering 
 
 it 
 
 " ' Good luck, my pretty girl ! ' he said with a laugh. 
 
 " This was in the month of January, 1866. I was just 
 thirteen. I have had since more terrible trials, and I 
 have found myself in much more desperate situations: 
 but I do not remember ever feeling such intense dis- 
 couragement as I did that day, when I found myself 
 alone upon that road, not knowing which way to go. 
 I sat down on one of my trunks. The weather was cold 
 and gloomy : there were few persons on the road. They 
 looked at me, doubtless wondering what I was doing 
 there. I wept. I had a vague feeling that the well-meant 
 kindness of my poor benefactress, in bestowing upon 
 me the blessings of education, would in reality prove a 
 serious impediment in the life-struggle which I was 
 about to begin again. I thought of what I suffered with 
 the laundress ; and, at the idea of the tortures which the 
 future still held in store for me, I desired death. The 
 Seine was near : why not put an end at once to the mis- 
 erable existence which I foresaw ? 
 
 " Such were my reflections, when a woman from 
 Rueil, a vegetable-vender, whom I knew by sight, hap- 
 pened to pass, pushing her hand-cart before her over 
 the muddy pavement. She stopped when she saw me; 
 and, in the softest voice she could command.
 
 266 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " ' What are you doing there, my darling ? ' she 
 asked. 
 
 " In a few words I explained to her my situation. She 
 seemed more surprised than moved. 
 
 " ' Such is life,' she remarked, ' sometimes up, 
 sometimes down/ 
 
 " And, stepping up nearer, 
 
 " ' What do you expect to do now ? ' she interrogated 
 in a tone of voice so different from that in which she 
 had spoken at first, that I felt more keenly the horror of 
 my altered situation. 
 
 ' ' I have no idea,' I replied. 
 
 " After thinking for a moment, 
 
 " ' You can't stay there,' she resumed : ' the gend- 
 armes would arrest you. Come with me. We will talk 
 things over at the house; and I'll give you my advice.' 
 
 " I was so completely crushed, that I had neither 
 strength nor will. Besides, what was the use of think- 
 ing? Had I any choice of resolutions? Finally, the 
 woman's offer seemed to me a last favor of destiny. 
 
 " ' I shall do as you say, madame,' I replied. 
 
 " She proceeded at once to load up my little baggage 
 on her cart. We started ; and soon we arrived ' home.' 
 
 " What she called thus was a sort of cellar, at least 
 twelve inches lower than the street, receiving its only 
 light through the glass door, in which several broken 
 panes had been replaced by sheets of paper. It was re- 
 voltingly filthy, and filled with a sickening odor. On all 
 sides were heaps of vegetables, cabbagesj potatoes, 
 onions. In one corner a nameless heap of decaying rags, 
 which she called her bed; in the centre, a small cast- 
 iron stove, the worn-out pipe of which allowed the 
 smoke to escape in the room. 
 
 " ' Anyway,' she said to me, ' you have a home now ! '
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 267 
 
 " I helped her to unload the cart. She filled the stove 
 with coal, and at once declared that she wanted to in- 
 spect my things. 
 
 " My trunks were opened ; and it was with exclama- 
 tions of surprise that the woman handled my dresses, my 
 skirts, my stockings. 
 
 " ' The mischief ! ' she exclaimed, ' you dressed well, 
 didn't you ? ' 
 
 " Her eyes sparkled so, that a strong feeling of mis- 
 trust arose in my mind. She seemed to consider all my 
 property as an unexpected godsend to herself. Her 
 hands trembled as she handled some piece of jewelry; 
 and she took me to the light that she might better esti- 
 mate the value of my ear-rings. 
 
 " And so, when she asked me if I had any money, de- 
 termined to hide at least my twenty-franc-piece, which 
 was my sole fortune, I replied boldly, ' No.' 
 
 " ' That's a pity,' she grumbled. 
 
 " But she wished to know my history, and I was com- 
 pelled to tell it to her. One thing only surprised her, 
 my age ; and in fact, though only thirteen, I looked fully 
 sixteen. 
 
 " When I had done, 
 
 " ' Never mind ! ' she said. ' It was lucky for you that 
 you met me. You are at least certain now of eating 
 every day ; for I am going to take charge of you. I am 
 getting old : you'll help me to drag my cart. If you are 
 as smart as you are pretty, we'll make money.' 
 
 " Nothing could suit me less. But how could I resist ? 
 She threw a few rags upon the floor ; and on them I had 
 to sleep. The next day, wearing my meanest dress, and 
 a pair of wooden shoes which she had bought for me, 
 and which bruised my feet horribly, I had to harness 
 myself to the cart by means of a leather strap, which cut
 
 268 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 my shoulders and my chest. She was an abominable 
 creature, that woman; and I soon found out that her 
 repulsive features indicated but too well her ignoble in- 
 stincts. After leading a life of vice and shame, she had, 
 with the approach of old age, fallen into the most abject 
 poverty, and had adopted the trade of vegetable-vender, 
 which she carried on just enough to escape absolute 
 starvation. Enraged at her fate, she found a detestable 
 pleasure in ill-treating me, or in endeavoring to stain 
 my imagination by the foulest speeches. 
 
 " Ah, if I had only known where to fly, and where 
 to take refuge ! But, abusing my ignorance, that execra- 
 ble woman had persuaded me, that, if I attempted to go 
 out alone, I would be arrested. And I knew no one to 
 whom I could apply for protection and advice. And 
 then I began to learn that beauty, to a poor girl, is a 
 fatal gift. One by one, the woman had sold every thing 
 I had, dresses, underclothes, jewels ; and I was now re- 
 duced to rags almost as mean as when I was with thQ 
 laundress. 
 
 " Every morning, rain or shine, hot or cold, we 
 started, wheeling our cart from village to village, all 
 along the Seine, from Courbevoie to Pont-Marly. I 
 could see no end to this wretched existence, when one 
 evening the commissary of police presented himself at 
 our hovel, and ordered us to follow him. 
 "We were taken to prison; and there I found myself 
 thrown among some hundred women, whose faces, 
 words, and gestures frightened me. The vegetable- 
 woman had committed a theft; and I was accused of 
 complicity. Fortunately I was easily able to demonstrate 
 my innocence; and, at the end of two weeks, a jailer 
 opened the door to me, saying, ' Go : you are free ! ' : 
 
 Maxence understood now the gently ironical smile
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY , 269 
 
 with which Mile. Lucienne had heard him assert that he, 
 too, had been very unhappy. What a life hers had been ! 
 And how could such things be within a step of Paris, 
 in the midst of a society which deems its organization 
 too perfect to consent to modify it ! 
 
 Mile. Lucienne went on, speaking somewhat faster, 
 
 " I was indeed free ; but of what use could my free- 
 dom be to me? I knew not which way to go. A me- 
 chanical instinct took me back to Rueil. I fancied 
 I would be safer among people who all knew me, and 
 that I might find shelter in our old lodgings. But this 
 last hope was disappointed. Immediately after our ar- 
 rest, the owner of the building had thrown out every 
 thing it contained, and had rented it to a hideous beggar, 
 who offered me, with a giggle, to become his house- 
 keeper. I ran off as fast as I could. 
 
 " The situation was certainly more horrible now than 
 the day when I had been turned out of my benefactress' 
 house. But the eight months I had just spent with the 
 horrible woman had taught me anew how to bear misery, 
 and had nerved up my energy. 
 
 " I took out from a fold of my dress, where I had 
 kept it constantly hid, the twenty-franc-piece I had re- 
 ceived ; and, as I was hungry, I entered a sort of eating 
 and lodging house, where I had occasionally taken a 
 meal. The proprietor was a kind-hearted man. When 1 
 had told him my situation, he invited me to remain with 
 him until I could find something better. On Sundays 
 and Mondays the customers were plenty; and he was 
 obliged to take an extra servant. He offered me that 
 work to do, promising, in exchange, my lodging and one 
 meal a day. I accepted. The next day being Sunday, 
 I commenced the arduous duties of a bar-maid in a low 
 drinking house. My pourboires amounted sometimes to
 
 270 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 five or ten francs ; I had my board and lodging free ; and 
 at the end of three months I had been able to provide 
 myself with some decent clothing, and was commencing 
 to accumulate a little reserve, when the lodging-house 
 keeper, whose business had unexpectedly developed 
 itself to a considerable extent, concluded to engage a 
 man-waiter, and urged me to look elsewhere for work. I 
 did so. An old neighbor of ours told me of a situation 
 at Bougival, where she said I would be very comfortable. 
 Overcoming my repugnance, I applied, and was ac- 
 cepted. I was to get thirty francs a month. 
 
 " The place might have been a good one. There were 
 only three in the family, the gentleman and his wife, 
 and a son of twenty-five. Every morning, father and 
 son left for Paris by the first train, and only came home 
 to dinner at about six o'clock. I was therefore alone 
 all day with the woman. Unfortunately, she was a 
 cross and disagreeable person, who, never having had 
 a servant before, felt an insatiable desire of showing 
 and exercising her authority. She was, moreover, ex- 
 tremely suspicious, and found some pretext to visit regu- 
 larly my trunks once or twice a week, to see if I 
 had not concealed some of her napkins or silver spoons. 
 Having told her that I had once been a laundress, she 
 made me wash and iron all the clothes in the house, and 
 was forever accusing me of using too much soap and too 
 much coal. Still I liked the place well enough; and I 
 had a little room in the attic, which I thought charming, 
 and where I spent delightful evenings reading or sew- 
 ing. 
 
 " But luck was against me. The young gentleman 
 of the house took a fancy to me, and determined to make 
 me his mistress. I discouraged him in a way; but he 
 persisted in his loathsome attention, until one night he
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 271 
 
 broke into my room, and I was compelled to shout for 
 help with all my might, before I could get rid of him. 
 
 " The next day I left that house ; but I tried in vain 
 to find another situation in Bougival. I resolved then to 
 seek a place in Paris. I had a big trunk full of good 
 clothes, and about a hundred francs of savings; and I 
 felt no anxiety. 
 
 " When I arrived in Paris, I went straight to an in- 
 telligence-office. I was extremely well received by a 
 very affable old woman who promised to get me a good 
 place, and, in the mean time, solicited me to board with 
 her. She kept a sort of boarding-house for servants 
 out of place; and there were there some fifty or sixty 
 of us, who slept at night in long dormitories. 
 
 " Time went by, and still I did not find that famous 
 place. The board was expensive, too, for my scanty 
 means; and I determined to leave. I started in quest 
 of new lodgings, followed by a porter, carrying my 
 trunk ; but as I was crossing the Boulevard, not getting 
 quick enough out of the way of a handsome private 
 carriage which was coming at full trot, I was knocked 
 down, and trampled under the horses's feet." 
 
 Without allowing Maxence to interrupt her, 
 
 " I had lost consciousness," went on Mile. Lucienne. 
 " When I came to my senses, I was sitting in a drug- 
 store; and three or four persons were busy around me. 
 I had no fracture, but only some severe contusions, and 
 a deep cut on the head. 
 
 " The physician who had attended me requested me 
 to try and walk ; but I could not even stand on my feet. 
 Then he asked me where I lived, that I might be taken 
 there; and I was compelled to own that I was a poor 
 servant out of place, without a home or a friend to care 
 for me.
 
 272 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " ' In that case/ said the doctor to the druggist, ' we 
 must send her to the hospital.' 
 
 " And they sent for a cab. 
 
 " In the mean time, quite a crowd had gathered out- 
 side, and the conduct of the person who was in the car- 
 riage that had run over me was being indignantly criti- 
 cised. It was a woman; and I had caught a glimpse of 
 her at the very moment I was falling under the horses' 
 feet. She had not even condescended to get out of her 
 carriage ; but, calling a policeman, she had given him her 
 name and address, adding, loud enough to be heard by 
 the crowd, ' I am in too great a hurry to stop. My coach- 
 man is an awkward fellow, whom I shall dismiss as soon 
 as I get home. I am ready to pay any thing that may be 
 asked/ 
 
 " She had also sent one of her cards for me. A po- 
 liceman handed it to me ; and I read the name, Baronne 
 de Thaller. 
 
 " ' That's lucky for you/ said the doctor. ' That lady 
 is the wife of a very rich banker; and she will be able 
 to help you when you get well.' 
 
 " The cab had now come. I was carried into it ; and, 
 an hour later, I was admitted at the hospital, and laid 
 on a clean, comfortable bed. 
 
 " But my trunk ! my trunk, which contained all 
 my things, all I had in the world, and, worse still, all 
 the money I had left. I asked for it, my heart filled with 
 anxiety. No one had either seen or heard of it. Had 
 the porter missed me in the crowd? or had he basely 
 availed himself of the accident to rob me? This was 
 hard to decide. 
 
 " The good sisters promised that they would have it 
 looked after, and that the police would certainly be able 
 to find that man whom I had engaged near the intelli-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 273 
 
 gence-office. But all these assurances failed to console 
 me. This blow was the finishing one. I was taken 
 with fever; and for more than two weeks my life was 
 despaired of. I was saved at last: but my convales- 
 cence was long and tedious ; and for over two months I 
 lingered with alternations of better and of worse. 
 
 " Yet such had been my misery for the past two years, 
 that this gloomy stay in a hospital was for me like an 
 oasis in the desert. The good sisters were very kind 
 to me ; and, when I was able, I helped them with their 
 lighter work, or went to the chapel with them. I shud- 
 dered at the thought that I must leave them as soon as 
 I was entirely well; and then what would become of 
 me ? For my trunk had not been found, and I was des- 
 titute of all. 
 
 " And yet I had, at the hospital, more than one sub- 
 ject for gloomy reflections. Twice a week, on Thurs- 
 days and Sundays, visitors were admitted; and there 
 was not on those days a single patient who did not re- 
 ceive a relative or a friend. But I, no one, nothing, 
 never ! 
 
 " But I am mistaken. I was commencing to get well, 
 when one Sunday I saw by my bedside an old man, 
 dressed all in black, of alarming appearance, wearing 
 blue spectacles, and holding under his arm an enormous 
 portfolio, crammed full of papers. 
 
 " ' You are Mile. Lucienne, I believe,' he asked. 
 
 " ' Yes/ I replied, quite surprised. 
 
 " ' You are the person who was knocked down by 
 a carriage on the corner of the Boulevard and the Fau- 
 bourg St. Martin ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes sir/ 
 ' ' Do you know whose equipage that was ? ' 
 
 " ' The Baronne de Thaller's, I was told/
 
 274 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " He seemed a little surprised, but at once, 
 
 " ' Have you seen that lady, or caused her to be seen 
 >n your behalf ? ' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Have you heard from her in any manner ? ' 
 
 "'No.' 
 
 " A smile came back upon his lips. 
 
 " ' Luckily for you I am here,' he said. ' Several 
 times already I have called ; but you were too unwell to 
 hear me. Now that you are better, listen.' 
 
 " And thereupon, taking a chair, he commenced to 
 explain his profession to me. 
 
 " He was a sort of broker ; and accidents were his 
 specialty. As soon as one took place, he was notified 
 by some friends of his at police headquarters. At once 
 he started in quest of the victim, overtook her at home 
 or at the hospital, and offered his services. For a mod- 
 erate commission he undertook, if needs be, to recover 
 damages. He commenced suit when necessary; and, 
 if he thought the case tolerably safe, he made advances. 
 He stated, for instance, that my case was a plain one, and 
 that he would undertake to obtain four or five thousand 
 francs, at least, from Mme. de Thaller. All he wanted 
 was my power of attorney. But, in spite of his pressing 
 instances, I declined his offers; and he withdrew, very 
 much displeased, assuring me that I would soon repent. 
 
 " Upon second thought, indeed, I regretted to have 
 followed the first inspiration of my pride, and the more 
 so, that the good sisters whom I consulted on the sub- 
 ject told me that I was wrong, and that my reclamation 
 would be perfectly proper. At their suggestion, I then 
 adopted another line of conduct, which, they thought, 
 would as surely bring about the same result. 
 "As briefly as possible, I wrote out the history of
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 275 
 
 my life from the day I had been left with the gardeners 
 at Louveciennes. I added to it a faithful account of my 
 present situation; and I addressed the whole to Mme. 
 de Thaller. 
 
 " ' You'll see if she don't come before a day or two,' 
 said the sisters. 
 
 " They were mistaken. Mme. de Thaller came neither 
 the next nor the following days ; and I was still awaiting 
 her answer, when, one morning, the doctor announced 
 that I was well enough to leave the hospital. 
 
 " I cannot say that I was very sorry. I had lately 
 made the acquaintance of a young workwoman, who had 
 been sent to the hospital in consequence of a fall, and 
 who occupied the bed next to mine. She was a girl of 
 about twenty, very gentle, very obliging, and whose 
 amiable countenance had attracted me from the first. 
 
 " Like myself, she had no parents. But she was rich, 
 very rich. She owned the furniture of the room, a 
 sewing-machine, which had cost her three hundred 
 francs, and, like a true child of Paris, she understood 
 five or six trades, the least lucrative of which yielded 
 her twenty-five or thirty cents a day. In less than a 
 week, we had become good friends ; and, when she left 
 the hospital, 
 
 " ' Believe me/ she said : ' when you come out your- 
 self, don't waste your time looking for a place. Come 
 to me: I can accommodate you. I'll teach you what I 
 know; and, if you are industrious, you'll make your 
 living, and you'll be free/ 
 
 " It was to her room that I went straight from the 
 hospital, carrying, tied in a handkerchief, my entire bag- 
 gage, one dress, and a few undergarments that the 
 good sisters had given me. 
 
 " She received me like a sister, and after showing
 
 276 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 me her lodging, two little attic-rooms shining with clean- 
 liness, 
 
 " ' You'll see,' she said, kissing me, ' how happy we'll 
 be here.' " 
 
 It was .getting late. M. Fortin had long ago come 
 up and put out the gas on the stairs. One by one, every 
 noise had died away in the hotel. Nothing now dis- 
 turbed the silence of the night save the distant sound of 
 some belated cab on the Boulevard. But neither Max- 
 ence nor Mile. Lucienne were noticing the flight of 
 time, so interested were they, one in telling, and the other 
 in listening to, this story of a wonderful existence. 
 However, Mile. Lucienne's voice had become hoarse 
 with fatigue. She poured herself a glass of water, 
 which she emptied at a draught, and then at once, 
 
 " Never yet," she resumed, " had I been agitated by 
 such a sweet sensation. My eyes were full of tears; 
 but they were tears of gratitude and joy. After so 
 many years of isolation, to meet with such a friend, so 
 generous, and so devoted: it was like finding a family. 
 For a few weeks, I thought that fate had relented at 
 last. My friend was an excellent workwoman; but 
 with some intelligence, and the will to learn, I soon knew 
 as much as she did. 
 
 " There was plenty of work. By working twelve 
 hours, with the help of the thrice-blessed sewing-ma- 
 chine, we succeeded in making six, seven, and even 
 eight francs a day. It was a fortune. 
 
 " Thus several months elapsed in comparative com- 
 fort. 
 
 " Once more I was afloat, and I had more clothes than 
 I had lost in my trunk. I liked the life I was leading; 
 and I would be leading it still, if my friend had not one 
 day fallen desperately in love with a young man she had
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 277 
 
 met at a ball. I disliked him very much, and took no 
 trouble to conceal my feelings: nevertheless, my friend 
 imagined that I had designs upon him, and became 
 fiercely jealous of me. Jealousy does not reason; and I 
 soon understood that we would no longer be able to live 
 in common, and that I must look elsewhere for shelter. 
 But my friend gave me no time to do so. 
 
 " Coming home one Monday night at about eleven, 
 she notified me to clear out at once. I attempted to ex- 
 postulate: she replied with abuse. Rather than enter 
 upon a degrading struggle, I yielded, and went out. 
 
 " That night I spent on a chair in a neighbor's room. 
 But the next day, when I went for my things, my former 
 friend refused to give them, and presumed to keep every 
 thing. I was compelled, though reluctantly, to resort 
 to the intervention of the commissary of police. 
 
 " I gained my point. But the good days had gone. 
 Luck did not follow me to the wretched furnished house 
 where I hired a room. I had no sewing-machine, and 
 but few acquaintances. By working fifteen or sixteen 
 hours a day, I made thirty or forty cents. That was not 
 enough to live on. Then work failed me altogether, 
 and, piece by piece, every thing I had went to the pawn- 
 broker's. On a gloomy December morning, I was turned 
 out of my room, and left on the pavement with a ten- 
 cent-piece for my fortune. 
 
 " Never had I been so low ; and I know not to what 
 extremities I might have come at last, when I happened 
 to think of that wealthy lady whose horses had upset 
 me on the Boulevard. I had kept her card. Without 
 hesitation, I went into a grocery, and calling for some 
 paper and a pen, I wrote, overcoming the last struggle 
 of my pride, 
 
 " ' Do you remember, madame, a poor girl whom
 
 278 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 your carriage came near crushing to death? Once be- 
 fore she applied to you, and received no answer. She 
 is to-day without shelter and without bread ; and you are 
 her supreme hope.' 
 
 " I placed these few lines in an envelope, and ran to 
 the address indicated on the card. It was a magnificent 
 residence, with a vast court-yard in front. In the por- 
 ter's lodge, five or six servants were talking as I came 
 in, and looked at me impudently, from head to foot, 
 when I requested them to take my letter to Mme. de 
 Thaller. One of them, however, took pity on me, 
 
 : ' Come with me,' he said, ' come along ! ' 
 
 " He made me cross the yard, and enter the vestibule ; 
 and then, 
 
 " ' Give me your letter,' he said, ' and wait here for 
 me.' " 
 
 Maxence was about to express the thoughts which 
 Mme. de Thaller's name naturally suggested to his 
 mind, but Mile. Lucienne interrupted him, 
 
 " In all my life," she went on, " I had never seen any 
 thing so magnificent as that vestibule with its tall col- 
 umns, its tessellated floor, its large bronze vases filled 
 with the rarest flowers, and its red velvet benches, upon 
 which tall footmen in brilliant livery were lounging. 
 
 " I was, I confess, somewhat intimidated by all of 
 this splendor; and I remained awkwardly standing, 
 when suddenly the servants stood up respectfully. 
 
 " A door had just opened, through which appeared 
 a man already past middle age, tall, thin, dressed in the 
 extreme of fashion, and wearing long red whiskers fall- 
 ing over his chest." 
 
 " The Baron de Thaller," murmured Maxence. 
 
 Mile. Lucienne took no notice of the interruption. 
 
 " The attitude of the servants," she went on, " had
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 279 
 
 made me easily guess that he was the master. I was 
 bowing to him, blushing and embarrassed, when, notic- 
 ing me, he stopped short, shuddering from head to foot. 
 
 " ' Who are you ? ' he asked me roughly, 
 
 " I attributed his manner to the sad condition of my 
 dress, which appeared more miserable and more dilapi- 
 dated still amid the surrounding splendors; and, 
 in a scarcely intelligible voice, I began, 
 
 " ' I am a poor girl, sir ' 
 
 " But he interrupted me. 
 
 " ' To the point ! What do you want? ' 
 
 " ' I am awaiting an answer, sir, to a request which I 
 have just forwarded to the baroness.' 
 
 "'What about?' 
 
 " ' Once sir, I was run over in the street by the bar- 
 oness's carriage: I was severely wounded, and had to 
 be taken to the hospital.' 
 
 " I fancied there was something like terror in the 
 man's look. 
 
 " ' It is you, then, who once before sent a long letter 
 to my wife, in which you told the story of your life ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir, it was I. ' 
 
 " ' You stated in that letter that you had no parents, 
 having been left by your mother with some gardeners 
 at Louveciennes ? ' 
 
 " ' That is the truth.' 
 
 " ' What has become of these gardeners ? ' 
 
 " ' They are dead.' 
 
 " ' What was your mother's name ? ' 
 
 " ' I never knew.' 
 
 " To M. de Thaller's first surprise had succeeded 
 a feeling of evident irritation; but, the more haughty 
 and brutal his manners, the cooler and the more self- 
 possessed I became.
 
 280 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ( ' And you are soliciting assistance ? ' he said. 
 
 " I drew myself up, and, looking at him straight in 
 the eyes, 
 
 ' I beg your pardon,' I replied : ' it is a legitimate 
 indemnity which I claim.' 
 
 " Indeed, it seemed to me that my firmness alarmed 
 him. With a feverish haste, he began to feel in his pock- 
 ets. He took out their contents of gold and bank-notes 
 all in a heap, and, thusting it into my hands without 
 counting, 
 
 ' ' Here,' he said, ' take this. Are you satisfied ? ' 
 
 " I observed to him, that, having sent a letter to Mme. 
 de Thaller, it would perhaps be proper to await her an- 
 swer. But he replied that it was not necessary, and, 
 pushing me towards the door, 
 
 " ' You may depend upon it,' he said, ' I shall tell my 
 wife that I saw you.' 
 
 " I started to go out ; but I had not gone ten steps 
 across the yard, when I heard him crying excitedly to 
 his servants, 
 
 " ' You see that beggar, don't you ? Well, the first 
 one who allows her to cross the threshold of my door 
 shall be turned out on the instant.' 
 
 " A beggar, I ! Ah the wretch ! I turned round to cast 
 his alms into his face ; but already he had disappeared, 
 and I only found before me the footman, chuckling 
 stupidly. 
 
 " I went out ; and, as my anger gradually passed off, 
 I felt thankful that I had been unable to follow the dic- 
 tates of my wounded pride. 
 
 " ' Poor girl,' I thought to myself, ' where would you 
 be at this hour ? You would only have to select between 
 suicide and the vilest existence; whereas now you are 
 above want.'
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 281 
 
 " I was passing before a small restaurant. I went 
 in; for I was very hungry, having, so to speak, eaten 
 nothing for several days past. Besides, I felt anxious 
 to count my treasure. The Baron de Thaller had given 
 me nine hundred and thirty francs. 
 
 " This sum, which exceeded the utmost limits of my 
 ambition, seemed inexhaustible to me: I was dazzled 
 by its possession. 
 
 " ' And yet,' I thought, ' had M. de Thaller happened 
 to have ten thousand francs in his pockets he would 
 have given them to me all the same.' 
 
 " I was at a loss to explain this strange generosity. 
 Why his surprise when he first saw me, then his anger, 
 and his haste to get rid of me ? How was it that a man 
 whose mind must be filled with the gravest cares had 
 so distinctly remembered me, and the letter I had writ- 
 ten to his wife? Why, after showing himself so gen- 
 erous, had he so strictly excluded me from his house? 
 
 " After vainly trying for some time to solve this rid- 
 dle, I concluded that I must be the victim of my own im- 
 agination; and I turned my attention to making the 
 best possible use of my sudden fortune. On the same 
 day, I took a little room in the Faubourg St. Denis ; and 
 I bought myself a sewing-machine. Before the week 
 was over, I had work before me for several months. Ah ! 
 this time it seemed indeed that I had nothing more to 
 apprehend from destiny; and I looked forward, with- 
 out fear, to the future. At the end of a month, I was 
 earning four to five francs a day, when, one afternoon, 
 a stout man, very well dressed, looking honest and good- 
 natured, and speaking French with some difficulty, 
 made his appearance at my room. He was an American, 
 he stated, and had been sent to me by the woman for 
 whom I worked. Having need of a skilled Parisian
 
 282 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 work-woman, he came to propose to me to follow him 
 to New York, where he would insure me a brilliant po- 
 sition. 
 
 " But I knew several poor girls, who, on the faith of 
 dazzling promises, had expatriated themselves. Once 
 abroad, they had been shamefully abandoned, and had 
 been driven, to escape starvation, to resort to the vilest 
 expedients. I refused, therefore, and frankly gave him 
 my reasons for doing so. 
 
 " My visitor at once protested indignantly. Whom 
 did I take him for? It was a fortune that I was refus- 
 ing. He guaranteed me in New York board, lodging, 
 and two hundred francs a month. He would pay all 
 travelling and moving expenses. And, to prove to me 
 the fairness of his intentions, he was ready, he said, to 
 sign an agreement, and pay me a thousand down. 
 
 " These offers were so brilliant, that I was staggered 
 in my resolution. 
 
 " ' Well/ I said, ' give me twenty-four hours to decide. 
 I wish to see my employer.' 
 
 " He seemed very much annoyed ; but, as I remained 
 firm in my purpose, he left, promising to return the next 
 day to receive my final answer. 
 
 " I ran at once to my employer. She did not know 
 what I was talking about. She had sent no one, and was 
 not acquainted with any American. 
 
 " Of course, I never saw him again ; and I couldn't 
 help thinking of this singular adventure, when, one 
 evening during the following week, as I was coming 
 home at about eleven o'clock, two policemen arrested 
 me, and, in spite of my earnest protestations, took me 
 to the station-house, where I was locked up with a dozen 
 unfortunates who had just been taken up on the Boule- 
 vards. I spent the night crying with shame and an-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 283 
 
 ger ; and I don't know what would have become of me, 
 if the justice of the peace, who examined me the next 
 morning, had not happened to be a just and kind man. 
 A.S soon as I had explained to him that I was the victim 
 of a most humiliating error, he sent an agent in quest of 
 information, and having satisfied himself that I was an 
 honest girl, working for my living, he discharged me. 
 But, before permitting me to go, 
 
 " ' Beware, my child,' he said to me : ' it is upon a for- 
 mal and well-authenticated declaration that you were 
 arrested. Therefore you must have enemies. People 
 have an interest in getting rid of you ' ' 
 
 Mademoiselle Lucienne was evidently almost ex- 
 hausted with fatigue: her voice was failing her. But 
 it was in vain that Maxence begged her to take a few 
 moments of rest. 
 
 " No," she answered, " I'd rather get through as quick 
 as possible." 
 
 And, making an effort, she resumed her narrative, 
 hurrying more and more. 
 
 " I returned home, my mind all disturbed by the 
 judge's warnings. I am no coward; but it is a terrible 
 thing to feel one's self incessantly threatened by an un- 
 known and mysterious danger, against which nothing 
 can be done. 
 
 " In vain did I search my past life : I could think of 
 no one who could have any interest in effecting my ruin. 
 Those alone have enemies who have had friends. I had 
 never had but one friend, the kind-hearted girl who had 
 turned me out of her home in a fit of absurd jealousy. 
 But I knew her well enough to knew that she was incap- 
 able of malice, and that she must long since have for- 
 gotten the unlucky cause of our rupture. 
 
 " Weeks after weeks.passed without any new incident.
 
 284 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 I had plenty of work and was earning enough money 
 to begin saving. So I felt comfortable, laughed at my 
 former fears, and neglected the precautions which I had 
 taken at first ; when, one evening, my employer, having 
 a very important and pressing order, sent for me. We 
 did not get through our work until long after midnight. 
 
 " She wished me to spend the rest of the night with 
 her; but it would have been necessary to make up a 
 bed for me, and disturb the whole household. 
 
 " ' Bash ! ' I said, ' this will not be the first time I 
 cross Paris in the middle of the night/ 
 
 " I started ; and I was going along, walking as fast 
 as I could, when, from the angle of a dark, narrow 
 street, a man sprang upon me, threw me down, struck 
 me, and would doubtless have killed me, but for two 
 brave gentlemen who heard my screams and rushed to 
 my assistance. The man ran off ; and I was able to walk 
 the rest of the way home, having received but a very 
 slight wound. 
 
 " But the very next morning I ran to see my friend, 
 the justice of the peace. He listened to me gravely, and, 
 when I had concluded, 
 
 " ' How were you dressed ? ' he inquired. 
 
 " ' All in black/ I replied, ' very modestly, like a 
 workwoman/ 
 
 " ' Had you nothing on your person that could tempt 
 a thief?' 
 
 " ' Nothing. No watch-chain, no jewelry, no ear- 
 rings even/ 
 
 " ' Then/ he uttered, knitting his brows, ' it is not a 
 fortuitous crime: it is another attempt on the part of 
 your enemies/ 
 
 " Such was also my opinion. And yet 
 
 " * But, sir,' I exclaimed, ' who can have any interest
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 285 
 
 to destroy me, a poor obscure girl as I am? I have 
 thought carefully and well, and I have not a single ene- 
 my that I can think of.' And, as I had full confidence in 
 his kindness, I went on telling him the story of my life. 
 ' You are a natural child,' he said as soon as I had 
 done, ' and you have been basely abandoned. That 
 fact alone would be sufficient to justify every supposi- 
 tion. You do not know your parents; but it is quite 
 possible that they may know you, and that they may 
 never have lost sight of you. Your mother was a work- 
 ing-girl, you think? That may be. But your father? 
 Do you know what interests your existence may 
 threaten ? Do you know what elaborate edifice of false- 
 hood and infamy your sudden appearance might tumble 
 to the ground ? ' 
 
 " I was listening dumfounded. 
 
 " Never had such conjectures crossed my mind ; and, 
 whilst I doubted their probability, I had, at least, to ad- 
 mit their possibility. 
 
 " ' What must I do, then ? ' I inquired. 
 
 The peace-officer shook his head. 
 
 " ' Indeed, my poor child, I hardly know what to 
 advise. The police is not omnipotent. It can do noth- 
 ing to anticipate a crime conceived in the brain of an 
 unknown scoundrel.' 
 
 " I was terrified. He saw it, and took pity on me. 
 
 " ' In your place,' he added, ' I would change my 
 domicile. You might, perhaps, thus make them lose 
 your track. And, above all, do not fail to give me your 
 new address. Whatever I can do to protect you, and in- 
 sure your safety, I shall do.' 
 
 " That excellent man has kept his word ; and once 
 again I owed my safety to him. 'Tis he who is now com- 
 missary of police in this district, and who protected me
 
 286 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 against Mme. Fortin. I hastened to follow his advice, 
 and two days later I had hired the room in this house 
 in which I am still living. In order to avoid every 
 chance of discovery, I left my employer, and requested 
 her to say, if any one came to inquire after me, that I 
 had gone to America. 
 
 " I soon found work again in a very fashionable 
 dress-making establishment, the name of which you 
 must have heard, Van Klopen's. Unfortunately, war 
 had just been declared. Every day announced a new 
 defeat. The Prussians were coming ; then the siege be- 
 gan. Van Klopen had closed his shop, and left Paris. 
 I had a few savings, thank heaven; and I husbanded 
 them as carefully as shipwrecked mariners do their last 
 ration of food, when I unexpectedly found some work. 
 
 " It was one Sunday, and I had gone out to see some 
 battalions of National Guards passing along the Boule- 
 vard, when suddenly I saw one of the vivandteres, who 
 was marching behind the band, stop, and run towards 
 me with open arms. It was my old friend from the 
 Batignolles, who had recognized me. She threw her 
 arms around my neck, and, as we had at once become 
 the centre of a group of at least five hundred idlers, 
 
 " ' I must speak to you,' she said. ' If you live in the 
 neighborhood, let's go to your room. The service can 
 wait.' 
 
 " I brought her here ; and at once she commenced 
 to excuse herself for her past conduct, begging me to 
 restore her my friendship. As I expected, she had long 
 since forgotten the young man, cause of our rupture. 
 But she was now in love, and seriously this time, she 
 declared, with a furniture-maker, who was a captain in 
 the National Guards. It was through him that she had 
 become a vivanditre; and she offered me a similar po-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 287 
 
 sition, if I wished it. But I did not wish it; and, as 
 I was complaining that I could find no work, she swore 
 that she would get me some through her captain, who 
 was a very influential man. 
 
 " Through him, I did in fact obtain a few dozen 
 jackets to make. This work was very poorly paid ; but 
 the little I earned was that much less to take from my 
 humble resources. In that way I managed to get through 
 the siege without suffering too much. 
 
 " After the armistice, unfortunately, M. Van Klopen 
 had not yet returned. I was unable to procure any 
 work ; my resources were exhausted ; and I would have 
 starved during the Commune, but for my old friend, 
 who several times brought me a little money, and some 
 provisions. Her captain was now a colonel, and was 
 about to become a member of the government ; at least, 
 so she assured me. The entrance of the troops into 
 Paris put an end to her dream. One night she came 
 to me livid with fright. She supposed herself gravely 
 compromised, and begged me to hide her. For four 
 days she remained with me. On the fifth, just as we 
 were sitting down to dinner, my room was invaded by 
 a number of police-agents, who showed us an order of 
 arrest, and commanded us to follow them. 
 
 " My friend sank down upon a chair, stupid with 
 fright. But I retained my presence of mind, and per- 
 suaded one of the agents to go and notify my friend 
 the justice. He happened luckily to be at home, and at 
 once hastened to my assistance. He could do nothing, 
 however, for the moment ; the agents having positive or- 
 ders to take us straight to Versailles. 
 
 " ' Well,' said he, ' I shall accompany you.' 
 
 " From the very first steps he took the next morn- 
 ing, he discovered that my position was indeed grave.
 
 288 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 But he also and very clearly recognized a new device of 
 the enemy to bring aboiit my destruction. The informa- 
 tion filed against me stated that I had remained in the 
 service of the Commune to the last moment ; that I had 
 been seen behind the barricades with a gun in my hand ; 
 and that I had formed one of a band of vile incendiaries. 
 This infamous scheme had evidently been suggested by 
 my relations with my friend from the Batignolles, who 
 was still more terribly compromised than she thought, 
 the poor girl ; her colonel having been captured, and 
 convicted of pillage and murder, and herself charged 
 with complicity. 
 
 " Isolated as I was, without resources, and without 
 relatives, I would certainly have perished, but for the de- 
 voted efforts of my friend the justice, whose official po- 
 sition gave him access everywhere, and enabled him to 
 reach my judges. He succeeded in demonstrating my 
 entire innocence ; and after forty-eight hours' detention, 
 which seemed an age to me, I was set at liberty. 
 
 " At the door, I found the man who had just saved 
 me. He was waiting for me, but would not suffer me 
 to express the gratitude with which my heart over- 
 flowed. 
 
 " ' You will thank me,' he said, ' when I have deserved 
 it better. I have done nothing as yet that any honest 
 man wouldn't have done in my place. What I wish is 
 to discover what interests you are threatening without 
 knowing it, and which must be considerable, if I may 
 judge by the passion and the tenacity of those who are 
 pursuing you. What I desire to do is to lay hands upon 
 the cowardly rascals in whose way you seem to stand.' 
 
 " I shook my head. 
 
 " ' You will not succeed/ I said to him.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 289 
 
 " ' Who knows ? I've done harder things than that 
 in my life.' 
 
 " And taking a large envelope from his pocket, 
 
 " ' This/ he said, ' is the letter which caused your ar- 
 rest. I have examined it attentively; and I am certain 
 that the handwriting is not disguised. That's something 
 to start with, and may enable me to verify my suspi- 
 cions, should any occur to my mind. In the mean time, 
 return quietly to Paris, resume your ordinary occupa- 
 tions, answer vaguely any questions that may be asked 
 about this matter, and above all, never mention my 
 name. Remain at the Hotel des Folies : it is in my dis- 
 trict, in my legitimate sphere of action; besides, the 
 proprietors are in a position where they dare not disobey 
 my orders. Never come to my office, unless something 
 grave and unforeseen should occur. Our chances of 
 success would be seriously compromised, if they could 
 suspect the interest I take in your welfare. Keep your 
 eyes open on every thing that is going on around you, 
 and, if you notice any thing suspicious, write to me. I 
 will myself organize a secret surveillance around you. If 
 I can bag one of the rascals who are watching you, that's 
 all I want. 
 
 " ' And now,' added this good man, ' good-by. Pa- 
 tience and courage.' 
 
 " Unfortunately he had not thought of offering me a 
 little money: I had not dared to ask him for any, and 
 I had but eight sous left. It was on foot, therefore, that 
 I was compelled to return to Paris. 
 
 " Mme. Fortin received me with open arms. With 
 me returned the hope of recovering the hundred and odd 
 francs which I owed her, and which she had given up 
 for lost. Moreover, she had excellent news for me. M.
 
 290 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Van Klopen had sent for me during my absence, re- 
 questing me to call at his shop. Tired as I was, I went 
 to see him at once. I found him very much downcast 
 by the poor prospects of business. Still he was deter- 
 mined to go on, and offered to employ me, not as work- 
 woman, as heretofore, but to try on garments for cus- 
 tomers, at a salary of one hundred and twenty francs a 
 month. I was not in a position to be very particular, 
 I accepted; and there I am still. 
 
 " Every morning, when I get to the shop, I take off 
 this simple costume, and I put on a sort of livery that 
 belongs to M. Van Klopen, wide skirts, and a black 
 silk dress. 
 
 " Then whenever a customer comes who wants a 
 cloak, a mantle, or some other ' wrapping/ I step up, 
 and put on the garment, that the purchaser may see how 
 it looks. I have to walk, to turn around, sit down, etc. 
 It is absurdly ridiculous, often humiliating ; and many a 
 time, during the first days, I felt tempted to give back 
 to M. Van Klopen his black silk aress. 
 
 " But the conjectures of my friend the peace-officer 
 were constantly agitating my brain. Since I thought I 
 had discovered a mystery in my existence, I indulged in 
 all sorts of fancies, and was momentarily expecting 
 some extraordinary occurrence, some compensation of 
 destiny. And I remained. 
 
 " But I was not yet at the nd of my troubles." 
 
 Since she had been speaking of M. Van Klopen, Mile. 
 Lucienne seemed to have lost her tone of haughty assur- 
 ance and imperturbable coolness ; and it was with a look 
 of mingled confusion and sadness that she went on. 
 
 " What I was doing at Van Klopen's was exceedingly 
 painful to me; and yet he very soon asked me to do 
 something more painful still. Gradually Paris was fill-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 291 
 
 ing up again. The hotels had re-opened; foreigners 
 were pouring in ; and the Bois Boulogne was resuming 
 its wonted animation. Still but few orders came in, and 
 those for dresses of the utmost simplicity, of dark color 
 and plain material, on which it was hard to make twenty- 
 five per cent profit. Van Klopen was disconsolate. He 
 kept speaking to me of the good old days, when some 
 of his customers spent as much as thirty thousand francs 
 a month for dresses and trifles, until one day, 
 
 " ' You are the only one,' he told me, ' who can help 
 me out just now. You are really good looking; and I 
 am sure that in full dress, spread over the cushions of 
 a handsome carriage, you would create quite a sensation, 
 and that all the rest of the women would be jealous of 
 you, and would wish to look like you. There needs but 
 one, you know, to give the good example.' " 
 
 Maxence started up suddenly, and, striking his head 
 with hand, 
 
 " Ah, I understand now ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " I thought that Van Klopen was jesting." went on 
 the young girl. " But he had never been more in ear- 
 nest ; and, to prove it, he commenced explaining to me 
 what he wanted. He proposed to get up for me some of 
 those costumes which are sure to attract attention ; and 
 two or three times a week he would send me a fine car- 
 riage, and I would go and show myself in the Bois. 
 
 " I felt disgusted at the proposition. 
 
 " ' Never ! ' I said. 
 
 "'Why not?' 
 
 " ' Because I respect myself too much to make a liv- 
 ing advertisement of myself.' 
 
 " He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " ' You are wrong,' he said. ' You are not rich, and 
 I would give you twenty francs for each ride. At the
 
 292 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 rate of eight rides a month, it would be one hundred 
 and sixty francs added to your wages. Besides,' he 
 added with a wink, ' it would be an excellent opportunity 
 to make your fortune. Pretty as you are, who knows 
 but what some millionaire might take a fancy to you ! ' 
 
 " I felt indignant. 
 
 " ' For that reason alone, if for no other,' I exclaimed, 
 ' I refuse.' 
 
 " ' You are a little fool,' he replied. ' If you do not 
 accept, you cease being in my employment. Reflect ! ' 
 
 " My mind was already made up, and I was thinking 
 of looking out for some other occupation, when I re- 
 ceived a note from my friend the peace-officer, request- 
 ing me to call at his office. 
 
 " I did so, and, after kindly inviting me to a seat, 
 
 " ' Well,' he said, ' what is there new ? ' 
 
 " ' Nothing. I have noticed no one watching me ' 
 
 " He looked annoyed. 
 
 " ' My agents have not detected any thing, either/ he 
 grumbled. ' And yet it is evident that your enemies 
 cannot have given it up so. They are sharp ones: if 
 they keep quiet, it is because they are preparing some 
 good trick. What it is I must and shall find out. Al- 
 ready I have an idea which would be an excellent one, 
 if I could discover some way of throwing you among 
 what is called good society.' 
 
 " I explained to him, that, being employed at Van 
 Klopen's, I had an opportunity to see there many ladies 
 of the best society. 
 
 " ' That is not enough,' he said. 
 
 " Then M. Van Klopen's propositions came back to 
 my mind, and I stated them to him. 
 
 " ' Just the thing ! ' he exclaimed, starting upon his
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 293 
 
 chair : ' a manifest proof that luck is with us. You must 
 accept.' 
 
 " I felt bound to tell him my objections, which re- 
 flection had much increased. 
 
 " ' I know but too well/ I said, ' what must happen if 
 I accept this odious duty. Before I have been four times 
 to the Bois, I shall be noticed, and every one will im- 
 agine that they know for what purpose I come there. 
 I shall be assailed with vile offers. True, I have no 
 fears for myself. I shall always be better guarded by my 
 pride than by the most watchful of parents. But my 
 reputation will be lost.' 
 
 " I failed to convince him. 
 
 " ' I know very well that you are an honest girl/ he 
 said to me ; ' but, for that very reason, what do you care 
 what all these people will think, whom you do not know ? 
 Your future is at stake. I repeat it, you must accept/ 
 
 " ' If you command me to do so/ I said. 
 
 " ' Yes, I command you ; and I'll explain to you 
 why/" 
 
 For the first time, Mile. Lucienne manifested some 
 reticence, and omitted to repeat the explanations of the 
 peace-officer. And, after a few moments' pause, 
 
 " You know the rest, neighbor," she said, " since you 
 have seen me yourself in that inept and ridiculous role 
 of living advertisement, of fashionable lay-figure; and 
 the result has been just as I expected. Can you find 
 any one who believes in my honesty of purpose? You 
 have heard Mme. Fortin to-night? Yourself, neigh- 
 bor what did you take me for? And yet you should 
 have noticed something of my suffering and my humilia- 
 tion the day that you were watching me so closely in the 
 Bois de Boulogne."
 
 294 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Maxence with a start, " you 
 know?" 
 
 " Have I not just told you that I always fear being 
 watched and followed, and that I am always on the look- 
 out? Yes, I know that you tried to discover the secret 
 of my rides." 
 
 Maxence tried to excuse himself. 
 
 " That will do for the present," she uttered. " You 
 wish to be my friend, you say ? Now that you know my 
 whole life almost as well as I do myself, reflect, and to- 
 morrow you will tell me the result of your thoughts." 
 
 Whereupon she went out. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 FOR about a minute Maxence remained stupefied at 
 this sudden denouement; and, when he had recovered 
 his presence of mind and his voice, Mile. Lucienne had 
 disappeared, and he could hear her bolting her door, 
 and striking a match against the wall. 
 
 He might also have thought that he was awaking from 
 a dream, had he not had, to attest the reality, the vague 
 perfume which filled his room, and the light shawl, 
 which Mile. Lucienne wore as she came in, and which 
 she had forgotten, on a chair. 
 
 The night was almost ended: six o'clock had just 
 struck. Still he did not feel in the least sleepy. His 
 head was heavy, his temples throbbing, his eyes smart- 
 ing. Opening his window, he leaned out to breathe the 
 morning air. The day was dawning pale and cold. A 
 furtive and livid light glanced along the damp walls 
 of the narrow court of the Hotel des Folies, as at the 
 bottom of a well. Already arose those confused noises
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 295 
 
 which announce the waking of Paris, and above which 
 can be heard the sonorous rolling of the milkmen's carts, 
 the loud slamming of doors, and the sharp sound of 
 hurrying steps on the hard pavement. 
 
 But soon Maxence felt a chill coming over him. He 
 closed the window, threw some wood in the chimney, 
 and stretched himself on his chair, his feet towards the 
 fire. It was a most serious event which had just oc- 
 curred in his existence; and, as much as he could, he 
 endeavored to measure its bearings, and to calculate its 
 consequences in the future. 
 
 He kept thinking of the story" of that strange girl, her 
 haughty frankness when unrolling certain phases of her 
 life, of her wonderful impassibility, and of the impla- 
 cable contempt for humanity which her every word be- 
 trayed. Where had she learned that dignity, so simple 
 and so noble, that measured speech, that admirable re- 
 spect of herself, which had enabled her to pass through 
 so much filth without receiving a stain? 
 
 " What a woman ! " he thought. 
 
 Before knowing her, he loved her. Now he was con- 
 vulsed by one of those exclusive passions which master 
 the whole being. Already he felt himself so much under 
 the charm, subjugated, dominated, fascinated; he un- 
 derstood so well that he was going to cease being his own 
 master ; that his free will was about escaping from him ; 
 that he would be in Mile. Lucienne's hands like wax 
 under the modeller's fingers; he saw himself so thor- 
 oughly at the discretion of an energy superior to his 
 own, that he was almost frightened. 
 
 " It's my whole future that I am going to risk," he 
 thought. 
 
 And there was no middle path. Either he must fly at 
 once, without waiting for Mile. Lucienne to awake, fly
 
 296 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 without looking behind, or else stay, and then accept all 
 the chances of an incurable passion for a woman who, 
 perhaps, might never care for him. And he remained 
 wavering, like the traveller who finds himself at the 
 intersection of two roads, and, knowing that one leads to 
 the goal, and the other to an abyss, hesitates which to 
 take. 
 
 With this difference, however, that if the traveller 
 errs, and discovers his error, he is always free to retrace 
 his steps; whereas man, in life, can never return to his 
 starting-point. Every step he takes is final; and if he 
 has erred, if he has taken the fatal road, there is no 
 remedy. 
 
 " Well, no matter ! " exclaimed Maxence. " It shall 
 not be said that through cowardice I have allowed that 
 happiness to escape which passes within my reach. I 
 shall stay." And at once he began to examine what 
 reasonably he might expect ; for there was no mistaking 
 Mile. Lucienne's intentions. When she had said, " Do 
 you wish to be friends ? " she had meant exactly that, 
 and nothing else, friends, and only friends. 
 
 " And yet," thought Maxence, " if I had not inspired 
 her with a real interest, would she have so wholly con- 
 fided unto me? She is not ignorant of the fact that I 
 love her; and she knows life too well to suppose that I 
 will cease to love her when she has allowed me a certain 
 amount of intimacy." 
 
 His heart filled with hope at the idea. 
 
 " My mistress," he thought, " never, evidently, but 
 my wife. Why not ? " 
 
 But the very next moment he became a prey to the 
 bitterest discouragement. He thought that perhaps Mile. 
 Lucienne might have some capital interest in thus mak- 
 ing a confidant of him. She had not told him the ex-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 297 
 
 planation given her by the peace-officer. Had she not, 
 perhaps, succeeded in lifting a corner of the veil which 
 covered the secret of her birth? Was she on the track 
 of her enemies? and had she discovered the motive of 
 their animosity? 
 
 " Is it possible," thought Maxence, " that I should be 
 but one of the powers in the game she is playing ? How 
 do I know, that, if she wins, she will not cast me off ? " 
 
 In the midst of these thoughts, he had gradually fallen 
 asleep, murmuring to the last the name of Lucienne. 
 
 The creaking of his opening door woke him up sud- 
 denly. He started to his feet, and met Mile. Lucienne 
 coming in. 
 
 " How is this ? " said she. " You did not go to bed ? " 
 
 " You recommended me to reflect," he replied. " I've 
 been reflecting." 
 
 He looked at his watch : it was twelve o'clock. 
 
 " Which, however," he added, " did not keep me from 
 going to sleep." 
 
 All the doubts that besieged him at the moment when 
 he had been overcome by sleep now came back to his 
 mind with painful vividness. 
 
 " And not only have I been sleeping," he went on, 
 " but I have been dreaming too." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne fixed upon him her great black eyes. 
 
 " Can you tell me your dream ? " she asked. 
 
 He hesitated. Had he had but one minute to reflect, 
 perhaps he would not have spoken; but he was taken 
 unawares. 
 
 " I dreamed," he replied, " that we were friends in 
 the noblest and purest acceptance of that word. Intel- 
 ligence, heart, will, all that I am, and all that I can, 
 I laid every thing at your feet. You accepted the most 
 entire devotion the most respectful and the most tender
 
 298 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 that man is capable of. Yes, we were friends indeed; 
 and upon a glimpse of love, never expressed, I planned 
 a whole future of love." He stopped. 
 
 "Well?" she asked. 
 
 " Well, when my hopes seemed on the point of being 
 realized, it happened that the mystery of your birth was 
 suddenly revealed to you. You found a noble, powerful, 
 and wealthy family. You resumed the illustrious name 
 of which you had been robbed; your enemies were 
 crushed ; and your rights were restored to you. It was 
 no longer Van Klopen's hired carriage that stopped in 
 front of the Hotel des Folies, but a carriage bearing 
 a gorgeous coat of arms. That carriage was yours; 
 and it came to take you to your own residence in the 
 Faubourg St. Germain, or to your ancestral manor." 
 
 " And yourself ? " inquired the girl. 
 
 Maxence repressed one of those nervous spasms which 
 frequently break out in tears, and, with a gloomy look, 
 
 " I," he answered, " standing on the edge of the pave- 
 ment, I waited for a word or a look from you. You had 
 forgotten my very existence. Your coachman whipped 
 his horses ; they started at a gallop ; and soon I lost sight 
 of you. And then a voice, the inexorable voice of fate, 
 cried to me, ' Never more shalt thou see her ! ' : 
 
 With a superb gesture Mile. Lucienne drew herself 
 up. 
 
 " It is not with your heart, I trust, that you judge 
 me, M. Maxence Favoral," she uttered. 
 
 He trembled lest he had offended her. 
 
 " I beseech you," he began. 
 
 But she went on in a voice vibrating with emotion, 
 
 " I am not of those who basely deny their past. Your 
 dream will never be realized. Those things are only
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 299 
 
 seen on the stage. If it did realize itself, however, if 
 the carriage with the coat-of-arms did come to the door, 
 the companion of the evil days, the friend who offered 
 me his month's salary to pay my debt, would have a 
 seat by my side." 
 
 That was more happiness than Maxence would have 
 dared to hope for. He tried, in order to express his 
 gratitude, to find some of those words which always 
 seem to be lacking at the most critical moments. But 
 he was suffocating; and the tears, accumulated by so 
 many successive emotions, were rising to his eyes. 
 
 With a passionate impulse, he seized Mile. Lucienne's 
 hand, and, taking it to his lips, he covered it with kisses. 
 
 Gently but resolutely she withdrew her hand, and, 
 fixing upon him her beautiful clear gaze, 
 
 " Friends," she uttered. 
 
 Her accent alone would have been sufficient to dis- 
 sipate the presumptuous illusions of Maxence, had he 
 had any. But he had none. 
 
 " Friends only," he replied, " until the day when you 
 shall be my wife. You cannot forbid me to hope. You 
 love no one ? " 
 
 " No one." 
 
 " Well since we are going to tread the path of life, 
 let me think that we may find love at some turn of the 
 road." 
 
 She made no answer. And thus was sealed between 
 them a treaty of friendship, to which they were to re- 
 main so strictly faithful, that the word " love " never 
 once rose to their lips. 
 
 In appearance there was no change in their mode of 
 life. 
 
 Every morning, at seven o'clock, Mile. Lucienne went
 
 300 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to M. Van Klopen's, and an hour later Maxence started 
 for his office. They returned home at night, and spent 
 their evenings together by the fireside. 
 
 But what was easy to foresee now took place. 
 
 Weak and undecided by nature, Maxence began very 
 soon to feel the influence of the obstinate and energetic 
 character of the girl. She infused, as it were, in his 
 veins, a warmer and more generous blood. Gradually 
 she imbued him with her ideas, and from her own will 
 gave him one. 
 
 He had told her in all sincerity his history, the mis- 
 eries of his home, M. Favoral's parsimony and exagger- 
 ated severity, his mother's resigned timidity, and Mile. 
 Gilberte's resolute nature. 
 
 He had concealed nothing of his past life, of his er- 
 rors and his follies, confessing even the worst of his ac- 
 tions ; as, for instance, having abused his mother's and 
 sister's affection to extort from them all the money they 
 earned. 
 
 He had admitted to her that it was onlv with great 
 reluctance and under pressure of necessity, that he 
 worked at all ; that he was far from being rich ; that al- 
 though he took his dinner with his parents, his salary 
 barely sufficed for his wants ; and that he had debts. 
 
 He hoped, however, he added, that it would not be 
 always thus, and that, sooner or later, he would see the 
 termination of all this misery and privation; for his 
 father had at least fifty thousand francs a year and some 
 day he must be rich. 
 
 Far from smiling, Mile. Lucienne frowned at such a 
 prospect. 
 
 " Ah ! your father is a millionaire, is Ke ? " she inter- 
 rupted. " Well, I understand now how, at twenty-five, 
 after refusing all the positions which have been offered
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 301 
 
 to you, you have no position. You relied on your father, 
 instead of relying on yourself. Judging that he worked 
 hard enough for two, you bravely folded your arms, 
 waiting for the fortune which he is amassing, and which 
 you seem to consider yours." 
 
 Such morality seemed a little steep to Maxence. 
 
 " I think," he began, " that, if one is the son of a rich 
 man " 
 
 " One has the right to be useless, I suppose ? " added 
 the girl. 
 
 " I do not mean that ; but " 
 
 " There is no but about it. And the proof that your 
 views are wrong, is that they have brought you where 
 you are, and deprived you of your own free will. To 
 place one's self at the mercy of another, be that other 
 your own father, is always silly; and one is always at 
 the mercy of the man from whom he expects money that 
 he has not earned. Your father would never have been 
 so harsh, had he not believed that you could not do 
 without him." 
 
 He wanted to discuss: she stopped him. 
 
 " Do you wish the proof that you are at M. Favoral's 
 mercy ? " she said. " Very well. You spoke of marry- 
 ing me." 
 
 " Ah, if you were willing ! " 
 
 " Very well. Go and speak of it to your father." 
 
 " I suppose " 
 
 " You don't suppose any thing at all : you are abso- 
 lutely certain that he will refuse you his consent." 
 
 " I could do without it." 
 
 " I admit that you could. But do you know what he 
 would do then ? He would arrange things in such a way 
 that you would never get a centime of his fortune." 
 
 Maxence had never thought of that.
 
 302 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Therefore," the young girl went on gayly, " though 
 there is as yet no question of marriage, learn to secure 
 your independence ; that is, the means of living. And to 
 that effect let us work." 
 
 It was from that moment, that Mme. Favoral had no- 
 ticed in her son the change that had surprised her so 
 much. 
 
 Under the inspiration, under the impulsion, of Mile. 
 Lucienne, Maxence had been suddenly taken with a 
 zeal for work, and a desire to earn money, of which he 
 could not have been suspected. 
 
 He was no longer late at his office, and had not, at 
 the end of each month, ten or fifteen francs' fines to pay. 
 
 Every morning, as soon as she was up, Mile. Lucienne 
 came to knock at his door. " Come, get up ! " she cried 
 to him. 
 
 And quick he jumped out of bed and dressed, so that 
 he might bid her good-morning before she left. 
 
 In the evening, the last mouthful of his dinner was 
 hardly swallowed, before he began copying the docu- 
 ments which he procured from M. Chapelain's suc- 
 cessor. 
 
 And often he worked quite late in the night whilst by 
 his side Mile. Lucienne applied herself to some work of 
 embroidery. 
 
 The girl was the cashier of the association; and she 
 administered the common capital with such skilful and 
 such scrupulous economy, that Maxence soon succeeded 
 in paying off his creditors. 
 
 " Do you know," she was saying at the end of De- 
 cember, " that, between us, we have earned over six 
 hundred francs this month ? " 
 
 On Sundays only, after a week of which not a minute 
 had been lost, they indulged in some little recreation.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 303 
 
 If the weather was not too bad, they went out to- 
 gether, dined in some modest restaurant, and finished 
 the day at the theatre. 
 
 Having thus a common existence, both young, free, 
 and having their rooms divided only by a narrow pas- 
 sage it was difficult that people should believe in the in" 
 nocence of their intercourse. The proprietors of the 
 Hotel des Folies believed nothing of the kind ; and they 
 were not alone in that opinion. 
 
 Mile. Lucienne having continued to show herself in 
 the Bois on the afternoons when the weather was fine, 
 the number of fools who annoyed her with their atten- 
 tions had greatly increased. Among the most obstinate 
 could be numbered M. Costeclar, who was pleased to 
 declare, upon his word of honor, that he had lost his 
 sleep, and his taste for business, since the day when, 
 together with M. Saint Pavin, he had first seen Mile. 
 Lucienne. 
 
 The efforts of his valet, and the letters which he had 
 written, having proved useless, M. Costeclar had made 
 up his mind to act in person ; and gallantly he had come 
 to put himself on guard in front of the Hotel des Folies. 
 
 Great was his surprise, when he saw Mile. Lucienne 
 coming out arm in arm with Maxence ; and greater still 
 was his spite. 
 
 " That girl is a fool," he thought, " to prefer to me a 
 fellow who has not two hundred francs a month to 
 spend. But never mind! He laughs best who laltghs 
 last." 
 
 And, as he was a man fertile in expedients, he vent 
 the next day to take a walk in the neighborhood of the 
 Mutual Credit ; and, having met M. Favoral by chance, 
 he told him how his son Maxence was ruining himself 
 for a young lady whose toilets were a scandal, insinu-
 
 304 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ating delicately that it was his duty, as the head of the 
 family, to put a stop to such a thing. 
 
 This was precisely the time when Maxence was en- 
 deavoring to obtain a situation in the office of the 
 Mutual Credit. 
 
 It is true that the idea was not original with him, and 
 that he had even vehemently rejected it, when, for the 
 first time, Mile. Lucienne had suggested it. 
 
 " What ! " had he exclaimed, " be employed in the 
 same establishment as my father? Suffer at the office 
 the same intolerable despotism as at home? I'd rather 
 break stones on the roads." 
 
 But Mile. Lucienne was not the girl to give up so 
 easily a project conceived and carefully matured by her- 
 self. 
 
 She returned to the charge with that infinite art qf 
 women, who understand so marvellously well how to 
 turn a position which they cannot carry in front. She 
 kept the matter so well before him, she spoke of it so 
 often and so much, on every occasion, and under all 
 pretexts, that he ended by persuading himself that it 
 was the only reasonable and practical thing he could do, 
 the only way in which he had any chance of making 
 his fortune; and so, one evening overcoming his last 
 hesitations, 
 
 " I am going to speak about it to my father," he said 
 to Mile. Lucienne. 
 
 But whether he had been influenced by M. Costeclar's 
 insinuations, or for some other reason, M. Favoral had 
 rejected indignantly his son's request, saying that it 
 was impossible to trust a young man who was ruining 
 himself for the sake of a miserable creature. 
 
 Maxence had become crimson with rage on hearing
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 305 
 
 the woman spoken of thus, whom he loved to madness, 
 and who, far from ruining him, was making him. 
 
 He returned to the Hotel des Folies in an indescriba- 
 ble state of exasperation. 
 
 " There's the result," he said to Mile. Lucienne, " of 
 the step which you have urged me so strongly to take." 
 
 She seemed neither surprised nor irritated. 
 
 " Very well," she replied simply. 
 
 But Maxence could not resign himself so quietly to 
 such a cruel disappointment ; and, not having the slight- 
 est suspicion of Costeclar's doings, 
 
 " And such is," he added, " the result of all the gossip 
 of these stupid shop-keepers who run to see you every 
 time you go out in the carriage." 
 
 The girl shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. 
 
 " I expected it," she said, " the day when I accepted 
 M. Van Klopen's offers." 
 
 " Everybody believes that you are my mistress." 
 
 " What matters it, since it is not so ? " 
 
 Maxence did not dare to confess that this was pre- 
 cisely what made him doubly angry; and he shuddered 
 at the thought of the ridicule that would certainly be 
 heaped upon him, if the true state of the case was 
 known. 
 
 " We ought to move," he suggested. 
 
 " What's the use ? Wherever we should go, it would 
 be the same thing. Besides, I don't want to leave this 
 neighborhood." 
 
 " And I am too much your friend not to tell you, that 
 your reputation in it is absolutely lost." 
 
 " I have no accounts to render to any one." 
 
 " Except to your friend the commissary of police, 
 however."
 
 306 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 A pale smile flitted upon her lips. 
 
 " Ah ! " she uttered, " he knows the truth." 
 
 " You have seen him again, then ? " 
 
 " Several times." 
 
 " Since we have known each other ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you never told me anything about it ? " 
 
 " I did not think it necessary." 
 
 Maxence insisted no more; but, by the sharp pang 
 that he felt, he realized how dear Mile. Lucienne had be- 
 come to him. 
 
 " She has secrets from me/' thought he, " from me 
 who would deem it a crime to have any from her." 
 
 What secrets? Had she concealed from him that she 
 was pursuing an object which had become, as it were, 
 that of her whole life. Had she not told him, that with 
 the assistance of her friend the peace-officer, who had 
 now become commissary of police of the district, she 
 hoped to penetrate the mystery of her birth, and to re- 
 venge herself on the villains, who, three times, had at- 
 tempted to do away with her? 
 
 She had never mentioned her projects again; but it 
 was evident that she had not abandoned them, for she 
 would at the same time have given up her rides to the 
 bois, which were to her an abominable torment. 
 
 But passion can neither reason nor discuss. 
 
 " She mistrusts me, who would -give my life for her," 
 repeated Maxence. 
 
 And the idea was so painful to him, that he resolved to 
 clear his doubts at any cost, preferring the worst misery 
 to the anxiety which was gnawing at his heart. 
 
 And as soon as he found himself alone with Mile. Lu- 
 cienne, arming himself with all his courage, and looking 
 her straight in the eyes,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 307 
 
 " You never speak to me any more of your enemies ? " 
 he said. 
 
 She doubtless understood what was passing within 
 him. 
 
 " It's because I don't hear any thing of them myself," 
 she answered gently. 
 
 " Then you have given up your purpose ? " 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 " What are your hopes, then, and what are your pros- 
 pects ? " 
 
 " Extraordinary as it may seem to you, I must confess 
 that I know nothing about it. My friend the commis- 
 sary has his plan, I am certain; and he is following it 
 with an indefatigable obstinacy. I am but an instru- 
 ment in his hands. I never do any thing without con- 
 sulting him ; and what he advises me to do I do." 
 
 Maxence started upon his chair. 
 
 " Was it he, then," he said in a tone of bitter irony, 
 " who suggested to you the idea of our fraternal associa- 
 tion?" 
 
 A frown appeared upon the girl's countenance. She 
 evidently felt hurt by the tone of this species of inter- 
 rogatory. 
 
 " At least he did not disapprove of it," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 But that answer was just evasive enough to excite 
 Maxence's anxiety. 
 
 " Was it from him too," he went on, " that came the 
 lovely idea of having me enter the Mutual Credit ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was from him." 
 
 " For what purpose ? " 
 
 " He did not explain." 
 
 "Why did you not tell me?" 
 
 " Because he requested me not to do so."
 
 308 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 From being red at the start, Maxence had now be- 
 come very pale. 
 
 " And so," he resumed, " it is that man, that police- 
 agent, who is the real arbiter of my fate ; and if to-mor- 
 row he commanded you to break off with me " 
 
 Mile. Lucienne drew herself up. 
 
 " Enough ! " she interrupted in a brief tone, 
 " enough ! There is not in my whole existence a single 
 act which would give to my bitterest enemy the right to 
 suspect my loyalty ; and now you accuse me of the basest 
 treason. What have you to reproach me with ? Have I 
 not been faithful to the pact sworn between us. Have I. 
 not always been for you the best of comrades and the 
 most devoted of friends ? I remained silent, because the 
 man in whom I have the fullest confidence requested me 
 to do so; but he knew, that, if you questioned me, I 
 would speak. Did you question me? And now what 
 more do you want ? That I should stoop to quiet the sus- 
 picions of your morbid mind? That I do not mean to 
 do." 
 
 She was not, perhaps, entirely right; but Maxence 
 was certainly wrong. He acknowledged it, wept, im- 
 plored her pardon, which was granted ; and this expla- 
 nation only served to rivet more closely the fetters that 
 bound him. 
 
 It is true, that, availing himself of the permission that 
 had been granted him, he kept himself constantly in- 
 formed of Mile. Lucienne's doings. He learnt from her 
 that her friend the commissary had held a most minute 
 investigation at Louveciennes, and that the footman who 
 went to the bois with her was now, in reality, a detective. 
 And at last, one day, 
 
 " My friend the commissary," she said, " thinks he is 
 on the right track now."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 309 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 SUCH was the exact situation of Maxence and Mile. 
 Lucienne on that eventful Saturday evening in the 
 month of April, 1872, when the police came to arrest M. 
 Vincent Favoral, on the charge of embezzlement and 
 forgery. 
 
 It will be remembered, how, at his mother's request, 
 Maxence had spent that night in the Rue St. Gilles, and 
 how, the next morning, unable any longer to resist his 
 eager desire to see Mile. Lucienne, he had started for 
 the Hotel des Folies, leaving his sister alone at home. 
 
 He retired to his room, as she had requested him, 
 and, sinking upon his old arm-chair in a fit of the deep- 
 est distress, 
 
 " She is singing," he murmured : " Mme. Fortin has 
 not told her any thing." 
 
 And at the same moment Mile. Lucienne had re- 
 sumed her song, the words of which reached him like a 
 bitter raillery, 
 
 " Hope ! O sweet, deceiving word ! 
 Mad indeed is he, 
 Who does think he can trust thee, 
 And take thy coin can afford. 
 Over his door every one 
 Will hang thee to his sorrow, 
 Then saying of days begone, 
 ' Cash to-day, credit to-morrow ! ' 
 "Tis very nice to run; 
 But to have is better fun ! " 
 
 " What will she say," thought Maxence, " when she 
 learns the horrible truth ? " 
 
 And he felt a cold perspiration starting on his tem- 
 ples when he remembered Mile. Lucienne's pride, and
 
 310 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 that honor has her only faith, the safety-plank to which 
 she had desperately clung in the midst of the storms of 
 her life. What if she should leave him, now that the 
 name he bore was disgraced ! 
 
 A rapid and light step on the landing drew him from 
 his gloomy thoughts. Almost immediately, the door 
 opened, and Mile. Lucienne came in. 
 
 She must have dressed in haste; for she was just 
 finishing hooking her dress, the simplicity of which 
 seemed studied, so marvellously did it set off the ele- 
 gance of her figure, the splendors of her waist, and the 
 rare perfections of her shoulders and of her neck. 
 
 A look of intense dissatisfaction could be read upon 
 her lovely features; but, as soon as she had seen Max- 
 ence, her countenance changed. 
 
 And, in fact, his look of utter distress, the disorder of 
 his garments, his livid paleness, and the sinister look of 
 his eyes, showed plainly enough that a great misfortune 
 had befallen him. In a voice whose agitation betrayed 
 something more than the anxiety and the sympathy of a 
 friend, 
 
 " What is the matter ? What has happened ? " in- 
 quired the girl. 
 
 " A terrible misfortune," he replied. 
 
 He was hesitating: he wished to tell every thing at 
 once, and knew not how to begin. 
 
 " I have told you," he said, " that my family was very 
 rich." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, we have nothing left, absolutely nothing." 
 
 She seemed to breathe more freely, and, in a tone of 
 friendly irony, 
 
 " And it is the loss of your fortune," she said, " that 
 distresses you thus ? "
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 311 
 
 He raised himself painfully to his feet, and, in a low 
 hoarse voice, 
 
 " Honor is lost too," he uttered. 
 
 "Honor?" 
 
 " Yes. My father has stolen : my father has forged ! " 
 
 She had become whiter than her collar. 
 
 " Your father ! " she stammered. 
 
 " Yes. For years he has been using the money that 
 was intrusted to him, until the deficit now amounts to 
 twelve millions." 
 
 " Great heavens ! " 
 
 " And, notwithstanding the enormity of that sum, he 
 was reduced, during the latter months, to the most 
 miserable expedients, going from door to door in the 
 neighborhood, soliciting deposits, until he actually basely 
 swindled a poor newspaper-vender out of five hundred 
 francs." 
 
 " Why, this is madness ! And how did you find out? " 
 
 " Last night they came to arrest him. Fortunately we 
 had been notified ; and I helped him to escape through a 
 window of my sister's room, which opens on the yard of 
 an adjoining house." 
 
 " And where is he now ? " 
 
 "Who knows?" 
 
 " Had he any money ? " 
 
 " Everybody thinks that he carries off millions. I do 
 not believe it. He even refused to take the few thousand 
 francs which M. de Thaller had brought him to facili- 
 tate his flight." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne shuddered. 
 
 " Did you see M. de Thaller ? " she asked. 
 
 " He got to the house a few moment in advance of 
 the commissary of police; and a terrible scene took 
 place between him and my father."
 
 312 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " What was he saying ? " 
 
 " That my father had ruined him." 
 
 " And your father ? " 
 
 " He stammered incoherent phrases. He was like a 
 man who has received a stunning blow. But we have 
 discovered incredible things. My father, so austere and 
 so parsimonious at home, led a merry life elsewhere, 
 spending money without stint. It was for a woman that 
 he robbed." 
 
 " And do you know who that woman is ? " 
 
 " No. But I can find out from the writer of the arti- 
 cle in this paper, who says that he knows her. See ! " 
 
 Mile. Lucienne took the paper which Maxence was 
 holding out to her : but she hardly condescended to look 
 at it. 
 
 " But what's your idea now ? " 
 
 " I do not believe that my father is innocent ; but I 
 believe that there are people more guilty than he, skil- 
 ful and prudent knaves, who have made use of him as a 
 man of straw, villains who will quietly digest their 
 share of the millions (the biggest one, of course), while 
 he will be sent to prison." 
 
 A fugitive blush colored Mile. Lucienne's cheeks. 
 
 " That being the case," she interrupted, " what do you 
 expect to do ? " 
 
 " Avenge my father, if possible, and discover his ac- 
 complices, if he has any." 
 
 She held out her hand to him. 
 
 " That's right," she said. " But how will you go about 
 it?" 
 
 " I don't know yet. At any rate, I must first of all 
 run to the newspaper office, and get that woman's ad- 
 dress." 
 
 But Mile. Lucienne stopped him.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 313 
 
 " No," she uttered : " it isn't there that you must go. 
 You must come with me to see my friend the commis- 
 sary." 
 
 Maxence received this suggestion with a gesture of 
 surprise, almost of terror. 
 
 " Why, how can you think of such a thing? " he ex- 
 claimed. " My father is fleeing from justice; and you 
 1 want me to take for my confidant a commissary of po- 
 lice, the very man whose duty it is to arrest him, if he 
 can find him ! " 
 
 But he interrupted himself for a moment, staring and 
 gaping, as if the truth had suddenly flashed upon his 
 mind in dazzling evidence. 
 
 " For my father has not gone abroad," he went on. 
 " It is in Paris that he is hiding : I am sure of it. You 
 have seen him ? " 
 
 Mile. Lucienne really thought that Maxence was 
 losing his mind. 
 
 " I have seen your father I ? " she said. 
 
 " Yes, last evening. How could I have forgotten it ? 
 While you were waiting for me down stairs, between 
 eleven and half-past eleven a middle-aged man, thin, 
 wearing a long overcoat, came and asked for me." 
 
 " Yes, I remember." 
 
 " He spoke to you in the yard." 
 
 " That's a fact." 
 
 "What did he tell you?" 
 
 She hesitated for a moment, evidently trying to tax 
 her memory ; then, 
 
 " Nothing," she replied, " that he had not already 
 said before the Fortins; that he wanted to see you on 
 important business, and was sorry not to find you in. 
 What surprised me, though, is, that he was speaking as 
 if he knew me, and knew that I was a friend of yours."
 
 314 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Then, striking her forehead, 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," she went on. " Perhaps 
 that man was indeed your father. Wait a minute. Yes, 
 he seemed quite excited, and at every moment he looked 
 around towards the door. He said it would be impossi- 
 ble for him to return, but that he would write to you, 
 and that probably he would require your assistance and 
 your services." 
 
 " You see," exclaimed Maxence, almost crazy with 
 subdued excitement, " it was my father. He is going to 
 write, to return, perhaps ; and, under the circumstances, 
 to apply to a commissary of police would be sheer folly, 
 almost treason." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " So much the more reason," she uttered, " why you 
 chould follow my advice. Have you ever had occasion to 
 repent doing so ? " 
 
 " No, but you may be mistaken." 
 
 " I am not mistaken." 
 
 She expressed herself in a tone of such absolute cer- 
 tainty, that Maxence, in the disorder of his mind, was 
 at a loss to know what to imagine, what to believe. 
 
 " You must have some reason to urge me thus," he 
 said. 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Why not tell it to me then ? " 
 
 " Because I should have no proofs to furnish you of 
 my assertions. Because I should have to go into details 
 which you would not understand. Because, above all, I 
 am following one of those inexplicable presentiments 
 which never deceive." 
 
 It was evident that she was not willing to unveil her 
 whole mind ; and yet Maxence felt himself terribly stag- 
 gered.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 315 
 
 " Think of my agony," he said, " if I were to cause 
 my father's arrest.'' 
 
 " Would my own be less ? Can any misfortune strike 
 you without reaching me ? Let us reason a little. What 
 were you saying a moment since? That certainly your 
 father is not as guilty as people think ; at any rate, that 
 he is not alone guilty; that he has been but the instru- 
 ment of rascals more skilful and more powerful than 
 himself; and that he has had but a small share of the 
 twelve millions ? " 
 
 " Such is my absolute conviction." 
 
 " And that you would like to deliver up to justice 
 the villains who have benefited by your father's crime, 
 and who think themselves sure of impunity ? " 
 
 Tears of anger fell from Maxence's eyes. 
 
 " Do you wish to take away all my courage ? " he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " No ; but I wish to demonstrate to you the necessity 
 of the step which I advise you to take. The end justifies 
 the means ; and we have not the choice of means. Come, 
 'tis to an honest man and a tried friend that I shall take 
 you. Fear nothing. If he remembers that he is com- 
 missary of police, it will be to serve us, not to injure 
 you. You hesitate ? Perhaps at this moment he already 
 knows more than we do ourselves."' 
 
 Maxence took a sudden resolution. 
 
 " Very well," he said : " let us go." 
 
 In less than five minutes they were off ; and, as they 
 went out, they had to disturb Mme. Fortin, who stood 
 at the door, gossiping with two or three of the neigh- 
 boring shop-keepers. 
 
 As soon as Maxence and Mile. Lucienne were out of 
 hearing, 
 
 " You see that young man," said the honorable pro-
 
 316 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 prietress of the Hotel des Folies to her interlocutors. 
 " Well, he is the son of that famous cashier who has 
 just run off with twelve millions, after ruining a thou- 
 sand families. It don't seem to trouble him, either; for 
 there he is, going out to spend a pleasant day with his 
 mistress, and to treat her to a fine dinner with the old 
 man's money." 
 
 Meantime, Maxence and Lucienne reached the com- 
 missary's house. He was at home ; they walked in. And. 
 as soon as they appeared, 
 
 " I expected you," he said. 
 
 He was a man already past middle age, but active and 
 vigorous still. With his white cravat and long frock- 
 coat, he looked like a notary. Benign was the expression 
 of his countenance ; but the lustre of his little gray eyes, 
 and the mobility of his nostrils, showed that it should 
 not be trusted too far. 
 
 " Yes, I expected you," he repeated, addressing him- 
 self as much to Maxence as to Mile. Lucienne. " It is 
 the Mutual Credit matter which brings you here ? " 
 
 Maxence stepped forward, 
 
 " I am Vincent Favoral's son, sir," he replied. " I 
 have still my mother and a sister. Our situation is hor- 
 rible. Mile. Lucienne suggested that you might be 
 willing to give me some advice ; and here we are." 
 
 The commissary rang, and, on the bell being an- 
 swered, 
 
 " I am at home for no one," he said. 
 
 And then turning to Maxence, 
 
 " Mile. Lucienne did well to bring you," he said ; 
 " for it may be, that, whilst rendering her an important 
 service, I may also render you one. But I have no time 
 to lose. Sit down, and tell me all about it." 
 
 With the most scmpulous exactness Maxence told the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 317 
 
 history of his family, and the events of the past twenty - 
 four hours. 
 
 Not once did the commissary interrupt him; but, 
 when he had done, 
 
 " Tell me your father's interview with M. de Thaller 
 all over again," he requested, " and, especially, do not 
 omit any thing that you have heard or seen, not a word, 
 not a gesture, not a look." 
 
 And, Maxence having complied, 
 
 " Now," said the commissary, " repeat every thing 
 your father said at the moment of going." 
 
 He did so. The commissary took a few notes, and 
 then, 
 
 " What were," he inquired, " the relations of your 
 family with the Thaller family ? " 
 
 " There were none." 
 
 " What ! Neither Mme. nor Mile, de Thaller ever 
 visited you ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Do you know the Marquis de Tregars? " 
 
 Maxence stared in surprise. 
 
 " Tregars ! " he repeated. " It's the first time that I 
 hear that name." 
 
 The usual clients of the commissary would have hesi- 
 tated to recognize him, so completely had he set aside his 
 professional stiffness, so much had his freezing reserve 
 given way to the most encouraging kindness. 
 
 " Now, then," he resumed, " never mind M. de Tre- 
 gars : let us talk of the woman, who, you seem to think, 
 has been the cause of M. Favoral's ruin. 
 
 On the table before him lay the paper in which Max- 
 ence had read in the morning the terrible article headed : 
 " Another Financial Disaster." 
 
 " I know nothing of that woman," he replied ; " but
 
 3i8 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 it must be easy to find out, since the writer of this ar- 
 ticle pretends to know." 
 
 The commissary smiled, not having quite as much 
 faith in newspapers as Maxence seemed to have. 
 
 " Yes, I read that," he said. 
 
 " We might send to the office of that paper," sug- 
 gested Mile. Lucienne. 
 
 " I have already sent, my child." 
 
 And, without noticing the surprise of Maxence and 
 of the young girl, he rang the bell, and asked whether 
 his secretary had returned. The secretary answered by 
 appearing in person. 
 
 " Well ? " inquired the commissary. 
 
 " I have attended to the matter, sir," he replied. " I 
 saw the reporter who wrote the article in question ; and, 
 after beating about the bush for some time, he finally 
 confessed that he knew nothing more than had been pub- 
 lished, and that he had obtained his information from 
 two intimate friends of the cashier, M. Costeclar and M. 
 Saint Pavin." 
 
 " You should have gone to see those gentlemen." 
 
 " I did." 
 
 "Very well. What then?" 
 
 " Unfortunately, M. Costeclar had just gone out. As 
 to M. Saint Pavin, I found him at the office of his paper, 
 ' The Financial Pilot.' He is a coarse and vulgar per- 
 sonage, and received me like a pickpocket. I had even a 
 notion to " 
 
 " Never mind that ! Go on." 
 
 " He was closeted with another gentleman, a banker, 
 named Jottras, of the house of Jottras and Brother. They 
 were both in a terrible rage, swearing like troopers, and 
 saying that the Favoral defalcation would ruin them; 
 that they had been taken in like fools, but that they were
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 319 
 
 not going to take things so easy, and they were prepar- 
 ing a crushing article." 
 
 But he stopped, winking, and pointing to Maxence 
 and Mile. Lucienne, who were listening as attentively as 
 they could. 
 
 " Speak, speak ! " said the commissary. " Fear noth- 
 ing." 
 
 " Well," he went on, " M. Saint Pavin and M. Jottras 
 were saying that M. Favoral was only a poor dupe, but 
 that they would know how to find the others." 
 
 "What others?" 
 
 "Ah! they didn't say." 
 
 The commissary shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, " you find yourself in pres- 
 ence of two men furious to have been duped, who swear 
 and threaten, and you can't get from them a name that 
 you want ? You are not very smart, my dear ! " 
 
 And as the poor secretary, somewhat put out of coun- 
 tenance, looked down, and said nothing, 
 
 " Did you at least ask them," he resumed, " who the 
 woman is to whom the article refers, and whose exist- 
 ence they have revealed to the reporter ? " 
 
 " Of course I did, sir." 
 
 " And what did they answer ? " 
 
 " That they were not spies, and had nothing to say. 
 M. Saint Pavin added, however, that he had said it 
 without much thought, and only because he had once 
 seen M. Favoral buying a three thousand francs brace- 
 let, and also because it seemed impossible to him that a 
 man should do away with millions without the aid of a 
 woman." 
 
 The commissary could not conceal his ill humor. 
 
 " Of course ! " he grumbled. " Since Solomon said, 
 ' Look for the woman ' (for it was King Solomon who
 
 320 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 first said it), every fool thinks it smart to repeat with 
 a cunning look that most obvious of truths. What 
 next?" 
 
 " M. Saint Pavin politely invited me to go to well, 
 not here." 
 
 The commissary wrote rapidly a few lines, put them 
 in an envelope, which he sealed with his private seal, 
 and handed it to his secretary, saying, 
 
 " That will do. Take this to the prefecture yourself." 
 
 And, after the secretary had gone out, 
 
 " Well, M. Maxence," he said, " you have heard? " 
 
 Of course he had. Only Maxence was thinking much 
 less of what he had just heard than of the strange inter- 
 est this commissary had taken in his affairs, even before 
 he had seen him. 
 
 " I think," he stammered, " that it is very unfortunate 
 the woman cannot be found." 
 
 With a gesture full of confidence, 
 
 " Be easy," said the commissary : " she shall be found. 
 A woman cannot swallow millions at that rate, without 
 attracting attention. Believe me, we shall find her, un- 
 less " 
 
 He paused for a moment, and, speaking slowly and 
 emphatically, 
 
 " Unless," he added, " she should have behind her a 
 very skilful and very prudent man. Or else that she 
 should be in a situation where her extravagance could 
 not have created any scandal." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne started. She fancied she understood 
 the commissary's idea, and could catch a glimpse of the 
 truth. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " she murmured. 
 
 Bui- Maxence didn't notice any thing, his mind being
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 321 
 
 wholly bent upon following the commissary's deduc- 
 tions. 
 
 " Or unless," he said, " my father should have re- 
 ceived almost nothing for his share of the enormous 
 sums subtracted from the Mutual Credit, in which case 
 he could have given relatively but little to that woman. 
 M. Saint Pavin himself acknowledges that my father 
 has been egregiously taken in." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 " Maxence hesitated for a moment. 
 
 " I think," he said at last, " and several friends of my 
 family (among whom M. Chapelain, an old lawyer) 
 think as I do, that it is very strange that my father 
 should have drawn millions from the Mutual Credit 
 without any knowledge of the fact on the part of the 
 manager." 
 
 " Then, according to you, M. de Thaller must be an 
 accomplice." 
 
 Maxence made no answer. 
 
 " Be it so," insisted the commissary. " I admit M. de 
 Thaller's complicity; but then we must suppose that he 
 had over your father some powerful means of action." 
 
 " An employer always has a great deal of influence 
 over his subordinates." 
 
 " An influence sufficiently powerful to make them run 
 the risk of the galleys for his benefit ! That is not likely. 
 We must try and imagine something else." 
 
 " I am trying ; but I don't find any thing." 
 
 "And yet it is not all. How do you explain your 
 father's silence when M. de Thaller was heaping upon 
 him the most outrageous insults ? " 
 
 " My father was stunned, as it were." 
 
 " And at the moment of escaping, if he did have anr
 
 322 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 accomplices, how is it that he did not mention their 
 names to you, to your mother, or to your sister ? " 
 
 " Because, doubtless, he had no proofs of their com- 
 plicity to offer." 
 
 " Would you have asked him for any ? " 
 
 "O sir!" 
 
 " Therefore such is not evidently the motive of his 
 silence ; and it might better be attributed to some secret 
 hope that he still had left." 
 
 The commissary now had all the information, which, 
 voluntarily or otherwise, Maxence was able to give him. 
 He rose, and in the kindest tone, 
 
 " You have come," he said to him, " to ask me for ad- 
 vice. Here it is : say nothing, and wait. Allow justice 
 and the police to pursue their work. Whatever may be 
 your suspicions, hide them. I shall do for you as I would 
 for Lucienne, whom I love as if she were my own 
 child ; for it so happens, that, in helping you, I shall help 
 her." 
 
 He could not help laughing at the astonishment, 
 which at those words depicted itself upon Maxence's 
 face ; and gayly, 
 
 " You don't understand," he added. " Well, never 
 mind. It is not necessary that you should." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Two o'clock struck as Mile. Lucienne and Maxence 
 left the office of the commissary of police, she pensive 
 and agitated, he gloomy and irritated. They reached the 
 Hotel des Folies without exchanging a word. Mme. 
 Fortin was again at the door, speechifying in the midst 
 of a group with indefatigable volubility. Indeed, it was
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 323 
 
 d perfect godsend for her, the fact of lodging the son of 
 that cashier who had stolen twelve millions, and had 
 thus suddenly become a celebrity. Seeing Maxence and 
 Mile. Lucienne coming, she stepped toward them, and, 
 with her most obsequious smile, 
 
 " Back already ? " she said. 
 
 But they made no answer; and, entering the narrow 
 corridor, they hurried to their fourth story. As he en- 
 tered his room, Maxence threw his hat upon his bed 
 with a gesture of impatience ; and, after walking up and 
 down for a moment, he returned to plant himself in 
 front of Mile. Lucienne. 
 
 " Well," he said, " are you satisfied now? " 
 
 She looked at him with an air of profound commis- 
 seration, knowing his weakness too well to be angry at 
 his injustice. 
 
 " Of what should I be satisfied ? " she asked gently. 
 
 " I have done what you wished me to." 
 
 " You did what reason dictated, my friend." 
 
 " Very well : we won't quarrel about words. I have 
 seen your friend the commissary. Am I any better off ? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly. 
 
 " What did you expect of him, then ? " she asked. 
 " Did you think that he could undo what is done ? Did 
 you suppose, that, by the sole power of his will, he would 
 make up the deficit in the Mutual Credit's cash, and re- 
 habilitate your father ? " 
 
 " No, I am not quite mad yet." 
 
 " Well, then, could he do more than promise you his 
 most ardent and devoted co-operation ? " 
 
 But he did not allow her to proceed. 
 
 " And how do I know," he exclaimed, " that lie. is not 
 {rifling with me? If he was sincere, why his reticence 
 and his enigmas ? He pretends that I may rely on him.
 
 324 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 because to serve me is to serve you. What does that 
 mean? What connection is there between your situa- 
 tion and mine, between your enemies and those of my 
 father? And I I replied to all his questions like a 
 simpleton. Poor fool ! But the man who drowns catches 
 at straws ; and I am drowning, I am sinking, I am foun- 
 dering." 
 
 He sank upon a chair, and, hiding his face in his 
 hands, 
 
 " Ah, how I do suffer ! " he groaned. 
 
 Mile. Lucienne approached him, and in a severe tone, 
 despite her emotion, 
 
 " Are you, then, such a coward ? " she uttered. 
 " What ! at the first misfortune that strikes you, and 
 this is the first real misfortune of your life, Maxence, 
 you despair. An obstacle rises, and, instead of gathering 
 all your energy to overcome it, you sit down and weep 
 like a woman. Who, then, is to inspire courage in your 
 mother and in your sister, if you give up so? " 
 
 At the sound of these words, uttered by that voice 
 which was all-powerful over his soul, Maxence looked 
 up. 
 
 " I thank you, my friend," he said. " I thank you for 
 reminding me of what I owe to my mother and sister. 
 Poor women ! They are wondering, doubtless, what has 
 become of me." 
 
 " You must return to them," interrupted the girl. 
 
 He got up resolutely. 
 
 " I will," he replied. " I should be unworthy of you 
 if I could not raise my own energy to the level of 
 yours." 
 
 And, having pressed her hand, he left. But it was not 
 by the usual route that he readier 1 , the Rue St. Gilles.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 325 
 
 He made a long detour, so as not to meet any of his ac- 
 quaintances. 
 
 " Here you are at last," said the servant as she opened 
 the door. " Madame was getting very uneasy, I can tell 
 you. She is in the parlor, with Mile. Gilberte and M. 
 Chapelain." 
 
 It was so. After his fruitless attempt to reach M. de 
 Thaller, M. Chapelain had breakfasted there, and had 
 remained, wishing, he said, to see Maxence. And so, 
 as soon as the young man appeared, availing himself of 
 the privileges of his age and his old intimacy, 
 
 " How," said he, " dare you leave your mother and 
 sister alone in a house where some brutal creditor may 
 come in at any moment ? " 
 
 " I was wrong," said Maxence, who preferred to 
 plead guilty rather than attempt an explanation. 
 
 " Don't do it again then," resumed M. Chapelain. " I 
 was waiting for you to say that I was unable to see M. 
 de Thaller, and that I do not care to face once more the 
 impudence of his valets. You will, therefore, have to 
 take back the fifteen thousand francs he had brought to 
 your father. Place them in his own hands; and don't 
 give them up without a receipt." 
 
 After some further recommendations, he went off, 
 leaving Mme. Favoral alone at last with her children. 
 She was about to call Maxence to account for his ab- 
 sence, when Mile. Gilberte interrupted her. 
 
 " I have to speak to you, mother," she said with a 
 singular precipitation, " and to you also, brother." 
 
 And at once she began telling them of M. Costeclar's 
 strange visit, his inconceivable audacity, and his of- 
 fensive declarations. 
 
 Maxence was fairly stamping with rage.
 
 326 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And I was not here," he exclaimed, " to put him 
 out of the house ! " 
 
 But another was there; and this was just what Mile. 
 Gilberte wished to come to. But the avowal was diffi- 
 cult, painful even; and it was not without some degree 
 of confusion that she resumed at last, 
 
 " You have suspected for a long time, mother, that I 
 was hiding something from you. When you questioned 
 me, I lied; not that I had any thing to blush for, but 
 because I feared for you my father's anger." 
 
 Her mother and her brother were gazing at her with 
 a look of blank amazement. 
 
 " Yes, I had a secret," she continued. " Boldly, with- 
 out consulting any one, trusting the sole inspirations of 
 my heart, I had engaged my life to a stranger: I had 
 selected the man whose wife I wished to be." 
 
 Mme. Favoral raised her hands to heaven. 
 
 " But this is sheer madness ! " she said. 
 
 " Unfortunately," went on the girl, " between that 
 man, my affianced husband before God, and myself, rose 
 a terrible obstacle. He was poor : he thought my father 
 very rich; and he had asked me a delay of three years 
 to conquer a fortune which might enable him to aspire 
 to my hand." 
 
 She stopped : all the blood in her veins was rushing to 
 her face. 
 
 " This morning," she said, " at the news of our disas- 
 ter, he came " 
 
 " Here ? " interrupted Maxence. 
 
 " Yes, brother, here. He arrived at the very moment, 
 when, basely insulted by M. Costeclar, I commanded 
 him to withdraw, and, instead of going, he was walking 
 towards me with outstretched arms."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 327 
 
 " He dared to penetrate here ! " murmured Mme. 
 Favoral. 
 
 "Yes, mother: he came in just in time to seize M. 
 Costeclar by his coat-collar, and to throw him at my 
 feet, livid with fear, and begging for mercy. He came, 
 notwithstanding the terrible calamity that has befallen 
 us. Notwithstanding ruin, and notwithstanding shame, 
 he came to offer me his name, and to tell me, that, in the 
 course of the day, he would send a friend of his family 
 to apprise you of his intentions." 
 
 Here she was interrupted by the servant, who, throw- 
 ing open the parlor-door, announced, 
 
 " The Count de Villegre." 
 
 If it had occurred to the mind of Mme. Favoral or 
 Maxence that Mile. Gilberte might have been the vic- 
 tim of some base intrigue, the mere appearance of the 
 man who now walked in must have been enough to disa- 
 buse them. 
 
 He was of a rather formidable aspect, with his mili- 
 tary bearing, his bluff manners, his huge white mus- 
 tache, and the deep scar across his forehead. 
 
 But in order to be re-assured, and to feel confident, it 
 was enough to look at his broad face, at once energetic 
 and debonair, his clear eye, in which shone the loyalty 
 of his soul, and his thick red lips, which had never 
 opened to utter an untruth. 
 
 At this moment, however, he was hardly in posses- 
 sion of all his faculties. 
 
 That valiant man, that old soldier, was timid ; and he 
 would have felt much more at ease under the fire of a 
 battery than in that humble parlor in the Rue St. GilleSj 
 under the uneasy glance of Maxence and Mme. Fa- 
 voral.
 
 328 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Having bowed, having made a little friendly sign to 
 Mile. Gilberte, he had stopped short, two steps from the 
 door, his hat in his hand. 
 
 Eloquence was not his forte. He had prepared himself 
 well in advance; but though he kept coughing: hum! 
 broum ! though he kept running his finger around his 
 shirt-collar to facilitate his delivery, the beginning of his 
 speech stuck in his throat. 
 
 Seeing how urgent it was to come to his assistance, 
 
 " I was expecting you, sir," said Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 With this encouragement, he advanced towards Mme. 
 Favoral, and, bowing low, 
 
 " I see that my presence surprises you, madame," he 
 began ; " and I must confess that hum ! it does not 
 surprise me less than it does you. But extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances require exceptional action. On any other 
 occasion, I would not fall upon you like a bombshell. 
 But we had no time to waste in ceremonious formalities. 
 I will, therefore, ask your leave to introduce myself: I 
 am General Count de Villegre." 
 
 Maxence had brought him a chair. 
 
 " I am ready to hear you, sir," said Mme. Favoral. 
 
 He sat down, and, with a further effort, 
 
 " I suppose, madame," he resumed, " that your daugh- 
 ter has explained to you our singular situation, which, 
 as I had the honor of telling you hum ! is not strictly 
 in accordance with social usage." 
 
 Mile. Gilberte interrupted him. 
 
 " When you came in, general, I was only just begin- 
 ning to explain the facts to my mother and brother." 
 
 The old soldier made a gesture, and a face which 
 showed plainly that he did not much relish the prospect 
 of a somewhat difficult explanation broum! Never- 
 theless, making up his mind bravely,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 329 
 
 " It is very simple," he said : " I come in behalf of M. 
 de Tregars." 
 
 Maxence fairly bounced upon his chair. That was 
 the very name which he had just heard mentioned by the 
 commissary of police. 
 
 " Tregars ! " he repeated in a tone of immense sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes," said M. de Villegre. " Do you know him, 
 by chance ? " 
 
 "No, sir, no!" 
 
 " Marius de Tregars is the son of the most honest 
 man I ever knew, of the best friend I ever had, of the 
 Marquis de Tregars, in a word, who died of grief a few 
 years ago, after hum! some quite inexplicable 
 broum! reverses of fortune. Marius could not ba 
 dearer to me, if he were my own son. He has lost his 
 parents: I have no relatives; and I have transferred to 
 him all the feelings of affection which still remained at 
 the bottom of my old heart. 
 
 " And I can say that never was a man more worthy 
 of affection. I know him. To the most legitimate pride 
 and the most scrupulous integrity, he unites a keen and 
 supple mind, and wit enough to get the better of the 
 toughest rascal. He has no fortune for the reason that 
 hum! he gave up all he had to certain pre- 
 tended creditors of his father. But whenever he 
 wishes to be rich, he shall be; and broum! he 
 may be so before long. I know his projects, his hopes, 
 his resources." 
 
 But, as if feeling that he was treading on dangerous 
 ground, the Count de Villegre stopped short, and, after 
 taking breath for a moment, 
 
 " In short," he went on, " Marius has been unable to 
 see Mile. Gilberte, and to appreciate the rare qualities
 
 330 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 of her heart, without falling desperately in love with 
 her." 
 
 Mme. Favoral made a gesture of protest, 
 
 " Allow me, sir," she began. 
 
 But he interrupted her. 
 
 " I understand you, madame," he resumed. " You 
 wonder how M. de Tregars can have seen your daugh- 
 ter, have known her, and have appreciated her, without 
 your seeing or hearing any thing of it. Nothing is more 
 simple, and, if I may venture to say hum! more 
 natural." 
 
 And the worthy old soldier began to explain to Mme. 
 Favoral the meetings in the Place-Royale, his conversa- 
 tions with Marius, intended really for Mile. Gilberte, 
 and the part he had consented to play in this little com- 
 edy. But he became embarrassed in his sentences, he 
 multiplied his hum ! and his broum ! in the most alarm- 
 ing manner ; and his explanations explained nothing. 
 
 Mile. Gilberte took pity on him; and, kindly inter- 
 rupting him, she herself told her story, and that of 
 Marius. 
 
 She told the pledge they had exchanged, how they 
 had seen each other twice, and how they constantly 
 heard of each other through the very innocent and very 
 unconscious Signer Gismondo Pulei. 
 
 Maxence and Mme. Favoral were dumbfounded. 
 They would have absolutely refused to believe such a 
 story, had it not been told by Mile. Gilberte herself. 
 
 " Ah, my dear sister ! " thought Maxence, " who 
 could have suspected such a thing, seeing you always so 
 calm and so meek ! " 
 
 " Is it possible," Mme. Favoral was saying to herself, 
 " that I can have been so blind and so deaf ? " 
 
 As to the Count de Villegre, he would have tried in
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 331 
 
 vain to express the gratitude he felt towards Mile. Gil- 
 berte for having spared him these difficult explana- 
 tions. 
 
 " I could not have done half as well myself, by the 
 eternal ! " he thought, like a man who has no illusions on 
 his own account. 
 
 But, as soon as she had done, addressing himself to 
 Mme. Favoral, 
 
 " Now, madame," he said, " you know all ; and you 
 will understand that the irreparable disaster that strikes 
 you has removed the only obstacle which had hitherto 
 stood in the way of Marius." 
 
 He rose, and in a solemn tone, without any hum or 
 broum, this time, 
 
 " I have the honor, madame," he uttered, " to solicit 
 the hand of Mile. Gilberte, your daughter, for my friend 
 Yves-Marius de Genost, Marquis de Tregars." 
 
 A profound silence followed this speech. But this si- 
 lence the Count de Villegre doubtless interpreted in his 
 own favor; for, stepping to the parlor-door, he opened 
 it, and called, " Marius ! " 
 
 Marius de Tregars had foreseen all that had just 
 taken place, and had so informed the Count de Villegre 
 in advance. 
 
 Being given Mme. Favoral's disposition, he knew 
 what could be expected of her ; and he had his own rea- 
 sons to fear nothing from Maxence. And, if he mis- 
 trusted somewhat the diplomatic talents of his ambassa- 
 dor, he relied absolutely upon Mile. Gilberte's energy. 
 
 And so confident was he of the correctness of his cal- 
 culations, that he had insisted upon accompanying his 
 old friend, so as to be on hand at the critical moment. 
 
 When the servant had opened the door to them, he 
 had ordered her to introduce M. de Villegre, stating that
 
 332 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 he would himself wait in the dining-room. This ar- 
 rangement had not seemed entirely natural to the girl ; 
 but so many strange things had happened in the house 
 for the past twenty-four hours, that she was prepared 
 for any thing. 
 
 Besides recognizing Marius as the gentleman who 
 had had a violent altercation in the morning with M. 
 Costeclar, she did as he requested, and, leaving him 
 alone in the dining-room, went to attend to her duties. 
 
 He had taken a seat, impassive in appearance, but in 
 reality agitated by that internal trepidation of which the 
 strongest men cannot free themselves in the decisive mo- 
 ments of their life. 
 
 To a certain extent, the prospects of his whole life 
 were to be decided on the other side of that door which 
 had just closed behind the Count de Villegre. To the 
 success of his love, other interests were united, v/hich 
 required immediate success. 
 
 And, counting the seconds by the beatings of his 
 heart, 
 
 " How very slow they are ! " he thought. 
 
 And so, when the door opened at last, and his old 
 friend called him, he jumped to his feet, and collecting 
 all his coolness and self-possession, he walked in. 
 
 Maxence had risen to receive him ; but, when he saw 
 him, he stepped back, his eyes glaring in utter surprise. 
 
 " Ah, great heavens ! " he muttered in a smothered 
 voice. 
 
 But M. de Tregars seemed not to notice his stupor. 
 Quite self-possessed, notwithstanding his emotion, he 
 cast a rapid glance over the Count de Villegre, Mme. 
 Favoral and Mile. Gilberte. At their attitude, and at 
 the expression of their countenance, he easily guessed 
 the point to which things had come.
 
 333 
 
 And, advancing towards Mme. Favoral, he bowed 
 with an amount of respect which was certainly not put 
 on. 
 
 " You have heard the Count de Villegre, madame," 
 he said in a slightly altered tone of voice. " I am await- 
 ing my fate." 
 
 The poor woman had never before in all her life been 
 so fearfully perplexed. All these events, which suc- 
 ceeded each other so rapidly, had broken the feeble 
 springs of her soul. She was utterly incapable of col- 
 lecting her thoughts, or of taking a determination. 
 
 " At this moment, sir," she stammered, taken un- 
 wares, " it would be impossible for me to answer you. 
 Grant me a few days for reflection. We have some old 
 friends whom I ought to consult." 
 
 But Maxence, who had got over his stupor, inter- 
 rupted her. 
 
 . " Friends mother ! " he exclaimed. "And who are 
 they ? People in our position have no friends. What ! 
 when we are perishing, a man of heart holds out his 
 hand to us, and you ask to reflect? To my sister, who 
 bears a name henceforth disgraced, the Marquis de Tre- 
 gare offers his name, and you think of consulting " 
 
 The poor woman was shaking her head. 
 
 " I am not the mistress, my son," she murmured ; 
 " and your father " 
 
 " My father ! " interrupted the young man, " my 
 father ! What rights can he have over us hereafter ? " 
 
 And without further discussion, without awaiting an 
 answer, he took his sister's hand, and, placing it in M. 
 de Tregar s hand, 
 
 " Ah ! take her, sir," he uttered. " Never, whatever 
 she may do, will she acquit the debt of eternal gratitude 
 which we this day contract towards you."
 
 334 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 A tremor that shook their frames, a long look which 
 they exchanged, betrayed alone the feelings of Marius 
 and Mile. Gilberte. They had of life a too cruel expe- 
 rience not to mistrust their joy. 
 
 Returning to Mme. Favoral, 
 
 " You do not understand, madame," he went on, 
 " why I should have selected for such a step the very 
 moment when an irreparable calamity befalls you. One 
 word will explain all. Being in a position to serve you, 
 I wished to acquire the right of doing so." 
 
 Fixing upon him a look in which the gloomiest des- 
 pair could be read, 
 
 " Alas ! " stammered the poor woman, " what can you 
 do for me, sir? My life is ended. I have but one wish 
 left, that of knowing where my husband is hid. It is 
 not for me to judge him. He has not given me the hap- 
 piness which I had, perhaps, the right to expect; but 
 he is my husband, he is unhappy: my duty is to join 
 him wherever he may be, and to share his sufferings." 
 
 She was interrupted by the servant, who was calling 
 her at the parlor-door, " Madame, madame ! " 
 
 " What is the matter ? " inquired Maxence. 
 
 " I must speak to madame at once." 
 
 Making an effort to rise and walk, Mme. Favoral 
 went out. She was gone but a minute ; and, when she 
 returned, her agitation had further increased. 
 
 " It is the hand of Providence, perhaps," she said. 
 
 The others were all looking at her anxiously. She 
 took a seat, and, addressing herself more especially to 
 M. de Tregars, 
 
 " This is what happens," she said in a feeble voice. 
 " M. Favoral was in the habit of always changing his 
 coat as soon as he came home. As usual, he did so last 
 evening. When they came to arrest him, he forgot to
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 335 
 
 change again, and went off with the coat he had on. The 
 other remained hanging in the room, where the girl took 
 it just now to brush it, and put it away ; and this port- 
 folio, which my husband always carries with him, fell 
 from its pocket." 
 
 It was an old Russia leather portfolio, which had once 
 been red, but which time and use had turned black. It 
 was full of papers. 
 
 " Perhaps, indeed," exclaimed Maxence, " we may 
 find some information there." 
 
 He opened it, and had already taken out three-fourths 
 of its contents without finding any thing of any con- 
 sequence, when suddenly he uttered an exclamation. 
 
 He had just opened an anonymous note, evidently 
 written in a disguised hand, and at one glance had 
 read, 
 
 " I cannot understand your negligence. You should 
 get through that Van Klopen matter. There is the dan- 
 ger." 
 
 "What is that note?" inquired M. de Tregars. 
 
 Maxence handed it to him. 
 
 " See ! " said he, " but you will not understand the 
 immense interest it has for me." 
 
 But having read it, 
 
 " You are mistaken," said Marius. " I understand 
 perfectly ; and I'll prove it to you." 
 
 The next moment, Maxence took out of the portfolio, 
 and read aloud, the following bill, dated two days be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Sold to two leather trunks with safety locks 
 
 at 220 francs each ; say, francs 440." 
 
 M. de Tregars started. 
 
 " At last," he said, " here is doubtless one end of the
 
 336 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 thread which will guide us to the truth through this 
 labyrinth of iniquities." 
 
 And, tapping gently on Maxence's shoulders, 
 " We must talk," he said, " and at length. To-mor- 
 row, before you go to M. de Thaller's with his fifteen 
 thousand francs, call and see me: I shall expect you. 
 We are now engaged upon a common work ; and some- 
 thing tells me, that, before long, we shall know what 
 has become of the Mutual Credit's millions."
 
 PART II. 
 
 FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS. 
 I. 
 
 " WHEN I think," said Coleridge, " that every morn- 
 ing, in Paris alone, thirty thousand fellows wake up, 
 and rise with the fixed and settled idea of appropriating 
 other people's money, it is with renewed wonder that 
 every night, when I go home, I find my purse still in 
 my pocket." 
 
 And yet it is not those who simply aim to steal your 
 portemonnaie who are either the most dishonest or the 
 most formidable. 
 
 To stand at the corner of some dark street, and rush 
 upon the first man that comes along, demanding, " Your 
 money or your life," is but a poor business, devoid of all 
 prestige, and long since given up to chivalrous natures. 
 
 A man must be something worse than a simpleton 
 to still ply his trade on the high-roads, exposed to all 
 sorts of annoyances on the part of the gensdarmes, when 
 manufacturing and financial enterprises offer such a 
 magnificently fertile field to the activity of imaginative 
 people. 
 
 And, in order to thoroughly understand the mode of 
 proceeding in this particular field, it-is sufficient to open 
 from time to time a copy of " The Police Gazette," and 
 ro read some trial, like that, for instance, of one Lefur- 
 
 337
 
 338 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 teux, ex-president of the Company for the Drainage and 
 Improvement of the Orne Swamps. 
 
 This took place less than a month ago in one of the 
 police-courts. 
 
 The Judge to the Accused. Your profession? 
 
 M. Lefurteux. President of the company. 
 
 Question. Before that what were you doing? 
 
 Answer. I speculated at the bourse. 
 
 Q. You had no means? 
 
 A. I beg your pardon : I was making money. 
 
 Q. And it was under such circumstances that you 
 had the audacity to organize a company with a capital 
 stock of three million of francs, divided in shares of five 
 hundred francs? 
 
 A. Having discovered an idea, I did not suppose 
 that I was forbidden to work it up. 
 
 Q. What do you call an idea? 
 
 A. The idea of draining swamps, and making them 
 productive. 
 
 Q. What swamps? Yours never had any existence, 
 except in your prospectus. 
 
 A. I expected to buy them as soon as my capital was 
 paid in. 
 
 Q. And in the mean time you promised ten per cent 
 to your stockholders. 
 
 A That's the least that draining operations ever pay. 
 
 Q. You have advertised ? 
 
 A. Of course. 
 
 Q. To what extent? 
 
 A. To the extent of about sixty thousand francs. 
 
 Q. Where did you get the money? 
 
 A. I commenced with ten thousand francs, which a 
 friend of mine had lent me; then I used the funds as 
 they came in. 
 
 Q. In other words, you made use of the money of 
 your first dupes to attract others? 
 
 A. Many people thought it was a good thing. 
 
 Q. Who ? Those to whom you sent your prospectus 
 with a plan of your pretended swamps ?
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 339 
 
 A. Excuse me. Others too. 
 
 Q. How much money did you ever receive? 
 
 A. About six hundred thousand francs, as the ex- 
 pert has stated. 
 
 Q. And you have spent the whole of the money? 
 
 A. Permit me? I have never applied to my personal 
 wants any thing beyond the salary which was allowed 
 me by the By-laws. 
 
 Q. How is it, then, that, when you were arrested, 
 there were only twelve hundred and fifty francs found 
 in your safe, and that amount had been sent you through 
 the post-office that very morning? What has become 
 of the rest? 
 
 A. The rest has been spent for the good of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 Q. Of course! You had a carriage? 
 
 A. It was allowed to me by Article 27 of the By- 
 laws. 
 
 Q. For the good of the company too, I suppose. 
 
 A. Certainly. I was compelled to make a certain dis- 
 play. The head of an important company must en- 
 deavor to inspire confidence. 
 
 The Judge, with an Ironical Look. Was it also to 
 inspire confidence that you had a mistress, for whom 
 you spent considerable sums of money? 
 
 The Accused, in a Tone of Perfect Candor. Yes, sir. 
 
 After a pause of a few moments, the judge resumes, 
 
 Q. Your offices were magnificent. They must have 
 cost you a great deal to furnish. 
 
 A. On the contrary, sir, almost nothing. The fur- 
 niture was all hired. You can examine the upholsterer. 
 
 The upholsterer is sent for, and in answer to the 
 judge's questions, 
 
 " What M. Lefurteux has stated," he says, " is true. 
 My specialty is to hire office-fixtures for financial and 
 other companies. I furnish every thing, from the book- 
 keepers' desks to the furniture for the president's pri- 
 vate room: from the iron safe to the servant's livery. 
 In twenty-four hours, every thing is ready, and the sub- 
 scribers can come. As soon as a company is organized 
 like the one in question, the officers call on me, and, ac-
 
 340 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 cording to the magnitude of the capital required, I fur- 
 nish a more or less costly establishment. I have a good 
 deal of experience, and I know just what's wanted. 
 When M. Lefurteux came to see me, I gauged his op- 
 eration at a glance. Three millions of capital, swamps 
 in the Orne, shares of five hundred francs, small sub- 
 scribers, anxious and noisy. 
 
 " ' Very well,' I said to him, ' it's a six-months' job. 
 Don't go into useless expenses. Take reps for your pri- 
 vate office : that's good enough.' " 
 
 The Judge, in a tone of Profound Surprise. You 
 told him that? , 
 
 The Upholsterer, in the Simple Accent of an Honest 
 Man. Exactly as I am telling your Honor. He fol- 
 lowed my advice; and I sent him red hot the furniture 
 and fixtures which had been used by the River Fishery 
 Company, whose president had just been sent to prison 
 for three years. 
 
 When, after such revelations, renewed from week to 
 week, with instructive variations, purchasers may still 
 be found for the shares of the Tiffla Mines, the Breton- 
 eche Lands, and the Forests of Formanoid, is it to be 
 wondered that the Mutual Credit Company found nu- 
 merous subscribers? 
 
 It had been admirably started at that propitious hour 
 of the December coup d'etat, when the first ideas of mu- 
 tuality were beginning to penetrate the financial world. 
 
 It had lacked neither capital nor powerful patronage 
 at the start, and had been at once admitted to the honor 
 of being quoted at the bourse. 
 
 Beginning business ostensibly as an accommodation 
 bank for manufacturers and merchants, the Mutual 
 Credit had had, for a number of years, a well-deter- 
 mined specialty. 
 
 But gradually it had enlarged the circle of its opera- 
 tions, altered its by-laws, changed its board of directors ;
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 341 
 
 and at the end the original subscribers would have 
 been not a little embarrassed to tell what was the nature 
 of its business, and from what sources it drew its profits. 
 
 All they knew was, that it always paid respectable 
 dividends ; that their manager, M. de Thaller, was per- 
 sonally very rich; and that they were willing to trust 
 him to steer clear of the code. 
 
 There were some, of course, who did not view things 
 in quite so favorable a light; who suggested that the 
 dividends were suspiciously large; that M. de Thaller 
 spent too much money on his house, his wife, his daugh- 
 ter, and his mistress. 
 
 One thing is certain, that the shares of the Mutual 
 Credit Society were much above par, and were quoted 
 at 580 francs on that Saturday, when, after the closing 
 of the bourse, the rumor had spread that the cashier, 
 Vincent Favoral, had run off with twelve millions. 
 
 " What a haul ! " thought, not without a feeling of 
 envy, more than one broker, who, for merely one-twelfth 
 of that amount would have gayly crossed the frontier. 
 
 It was almost an event in Paris. 
 
 Although such adventures are frequent enough, and 
 not taken much notice of, in the present instance, the 
 magnitude of the amount more than made up for the 
 vulgarity of the act. 
 
 Favoral was generally pronounced a very smart man ; 
 and some persons declared, that to take twelve millions 
 could hardly be called stealing. 
 
 The first question asked was, 
 
 " Is Thaller in the operation ? Was he in collusion 
 with his cashier ? " 
 
 " That's the whole question." 
 
 " If he was, then the Mutual Credit is better off than 
 ever: otherwise, it is gone under."
 
 342 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Thaller is pretty smart." 
 
 " That Favoral was perhaps more so still." 
 
 This uncertainty kept up the price for about half an 
 hour. But soon the most disastrous news began to 
 spread, brought, no one knew whence or by whom ; and 
 there was an irresistible panic. 
 
 From 425, at which price it had maintained itself for 
 a time, the Mutual Credit fell suddenly to 300, then 200, 
 and finally to 150 francs. 
 
 Some friends of M. de Thaller, M. Costeclar, for in- 
 stance, had endeavored to keep up the market ; but they 
 had soon recognized the futility of their efforts, and 
 then they had bravely commenced doing like the rest. 
 
 The next day was Sunday. From the early morning, 
 it was reported, with the most circumstantial details, that 
 the Baron de Thaller had been arrested. 
 
 But in the evening this had been contradicted by 
 people who had gone to the races, and who had met 
 there Mme. de Thaller and her daughter, more brilliant 
 than ever, very lively, and very talkative. 
 
 To the persons who went to speak to them, 
 
 " My husband was unable to come," said the baroness. 
 " He is busy with two of his clerks, looking over that 
 poor Favoral's accounts. It seems that they are in the 
 most inconceivable confusion. Who would ever have 
 thought such a thing of a man who lived on bread and 
 nuts? But he operated at the bourse; and he had or- 
 ganized, under a false name, a sort of bank, in which 
 he has very foolishly sunk large sums of money." 
 
 And with a smile, as if all danger had been luckily 
 averted, 
 
 " Fortunately," she added, " the damage is not as 
 great as has been reported, and this time, again, we shall 
 get off with a good fright."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 343 
 
 But the speeches of the baroness were hardly suffi- 
 cient to quiet the anxiety of the people who felt in their 
 coat-pockets the worthless certificates of Mutual Credit 
 stock. 
 
 And the next day, Monday, as early as eight o'clock, 
 they began to arrive in crowds to demand of M. de 
 Thaller some sort of an explanation. 
 
 They were there, at least a hundred, huddled together 
 in the vestibule, on the stairs, and on the first landing, 
 a prey to the most painful emotion and the most violent 
 excitement; for they had been refused admittance. 
 
 To all those who insisted upon going in, a tall serv- 
 ant in livery, standing before the door, replied inva- 
 riably, " The office is not open, M. de Thaller has not 
 yet come." 
 
 Whereupon they uttered such terrible threats and 
 such loud imprecations, that the frightened concierge 
 had run, and hid himself at the very bottom of his lodge. 
 
 No one can imagine to what epileptic contortions the 
 loss of money can drive an assemblage of men, who 
 has not seen a meeting of shareholders on the morrow 
 of a great disaster, with their clinched fists, their con- 
 vulsed faces, their glaring eyes, and foaming lips. 
 
 They felt indignant at what had once been their de- 
 light. They laid the blame of their ruin upon the splen- 
 dor of the house, the sumptuousness of the stairs, the 
 candelabras of the vestibule, the carpets, the chairs every 
 thing. 
 
 " And it is our money too," they cried, " that has paid 
 for all that ! " 
 
 Standing upon a bench, a little short man was exciting 
 transports of indignation by describing the magnificence 
 of the Baron de Thaller's residence, where he had once 
 had some dealings.
 
 344 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 He had counted five carriages in the carriage-house, 
 fifteen horses in the stables, and Heaven knows how 
 many servants. 
 
 He had never been inside the apartments, but he had 
 visited the kitchen; and he declared that he had been 
 dazzled by the number and brightness of the saucepans, 
 ranged in order of size over the furnace. 
 
 Gathered in a group under the vestibule, the most 
 sensible deplored their rash confidence. 
 
 " That's the way," concluded one, " with all these ad- 
 venturous affairs." 
 
 " That's a fact. There's nothing, after all, like gov- 
 ernment bonds." 
 
 " Or a first mortgage on good property, with subro- 
 gation of the wife's rights." 
 
 But what exasperated them all was not to be admitted 
 to the presence of M. de Thaller, and to see that servant 
 mounting guard before the door. 
 
 " What impudence," they growled, " to leave us on the 
 stairs ! we who are the pasters, after all." 
 
 " Who knows where M. de Thaller may be? " 
 
 " He is hiding, of course." 
 
 " No matter : I will see him," clamored a big fat man, 
 with a brick-colored face, " if I shouldn't stir from here 
 for a week." 
 
 " You'll see nothing at all," giggled his neighbor. 
 " Do you suppose they don't have back-stairs and pri- 
 vate entrances in this infernal shop ? " 
 
 " Ah ! if I believed any thing of the kind," exclaimed 
 the big man in a voice trembling with passion. "I'd soon 
 break in some of these doors : it isn't so hard, after all." 
 
 Already he was gazing at the servant with an alarm- 
 ing air, when an old gentleman with a discreet look, 
 stepped up to him, and inquired,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 345 
 
 " Excuse me, sir : how many shares have you ? " 
 
 " Three," answered the man with the brick-colored 
 face. 
 
 The other sighed. 
 
 " I have two hundred and fifty," he said. " That's 
 why, being at least as interested as yourself in not los- 
 ing every thing, I beg of you to indulge in no violent 
 proceedings." 
 
 There was no need of further speaking. 
 
 The door which the servant was guarding flew open. 
 A clerk appeared, and made sign that he wished to 
 speak. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he began, " M. de Thaller has just 
 come; but he is just now engaged with the examining 
 judge." 
 
 Shouts having drowned his voice, he withdrew precip- 
 itately. 
 
 " If the law gets its finger in," murmured the discreet 
 gentleman, " good-by ! " 
 
 " That's a fact," said another. " But we will have 
 the precious advantage of hearing that dear baron con- 
 demned to one year's imprisonment, and a fine of fifty 
 francs. That's the regular rate. He wouldn't get off 
 so cheap, if he had stolen a loaf of bread from a baker." 
 
 " Do you believe that story about the judge? " inter- 
 rupted rudely the big man. 
 
 They had to believe it, when they saw him appear, 
 followed by a commissary of police and a porter, carry- 
 ing on his back a load of books and papers. 
 
 They stood aside to let them pass ; but there was no 
 time to make any comments, as another clerk appeared 
 immediately who said, 
 
 " M. de Thaller is at your command, gentlemen. 
 Please walk in."
 
 346 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 There was then a terrible jamming and pushing to see 
 who would get first into the directors' room, which 
 stood wide open. 
 
 M. de Thaller was standing against the mantel-piece, 
 neither paler nor more excited than usual, but like a man 
 who feels sure of himself and of his means of action. 
 
 As soon as silence was restored, 
 
 ' First of all, gentlemen," he began, " I must tell you 
 that the board of directors is about to meet, and that 
 a general meeting of the stockholders will be called." 
 
 Not a murmur. As at the touch of a magician's wand, 
 the dispositions of the shareholders seemed to have 
 changed. 
 
 " I have nothing new to inform you of," he went on. 
 " What happens is a misfortune, but not a disaster. The 
 thing to do was to save the company; and I had first 
 thought of calling for funds." 
 
 " Well," said two or three timid voices, " If it was 
 absolutely necessary " 
 
 " But there is no need of it." 
 
 "Ah, ah!" 
 
 " And I can manage to carry every thing through by 
 adding to our reserve fund my own personal fortune." 
 
 This time the hurrahs and the bravos drowned the 
 voice. 
 
 M. de Thaller received them like a man who deserves 
 them, and, more slowly, 
 
 " Honor commanded it," he continued. " I confess 
 it, gentlemen, the wretch who has so basely deceived 
 us had my entire confidence. You will understand my 
 apparent blindness when you know with what infernal 
 skill he managed." 
 
 Loud imprecations burst on all sides against Vincent
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 34; 
 
 Favorai. But the president of the Mutual Credit pro- 
 ceeded, 
 
 " For the present, all I have to ask of you is to keep 
 cool, and continue to give me your confidence." 
 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 
 " The panic of night before last was but a stock- 
 gambling manoeuvre, organized by rival establishments, 
 who were in hopes of taking our clients away from us. 
 They will be disappointed, gentlemen. We will tri- 
 umphantly demonstrate our soundness; and we shall 
 come out of this trial more powerful than ever." 
 
 It was all over. M. de Thaller understood his busi- 
 ness. They offered him a vote of thanks. A smile was 
 beaming upon the same faces that were a moment before 
 contracted with rage. 
 
 One stockholder alone did not seem to share the gen- 
 eral enthusiasm: he was no other than our old friend, 
 M. Chapelain, the ex-lawyer. 
 
 " That fellow, Thaller, is just capable of getting him- 
 self out of the scrape," he grumbled. " I must tell 
 Maxence." 
 
 II. 
 
 WE have every species of courage m France, and to 
 a superior degree, except that of braving public opinion. 
 Few men would have dared, like Marius de Tregars, to 
 offer their name to the daughter of a wretch charged 
 with embezzlement and forgery, and that at the very 
 moment when the scandal of the crime was at its height. 
 But, when Marius judged a thing good and just, he 
 did it without troubling himself in the least about what 
 others would think. And so his mere presence in the
 
 348 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Rue. St. Gilles had brought back hope to its inmates. Of 
 his designs he had said but a word, " I have the means 
 of helping you : I mean, by marrying Gilberte, to acquire 
 the right of doing so." 
 
 But that word had been enough. Mme. Favoral and 
 Maxence had understood that the man who spoke thus 
 was one of those cool and resolute men whom nothing 
 disconcerts or discourages, and who know how to make 
 the best of the most perilous situations. 
 
 And, when he had retired with the Count de Ville- 
 gre, 
 
 " I don't know what he will do," said Mile. Gilberte 
 to her mother and her brother : " but he will certainly 
 do something ; and, if it is humanly possible to succeed, 
 he will succeed." 
 
 And how proudly she spoke thus ! The assistance of 
 Marius was the justification of her conduct. She 
 trembled with joy at the thought that it would, perhaps, 
 be to the man whom she had alone and boldly selected, 
 that her family would owe their salvation. Shaking 
 his head, and making allusion to events of which he 
 kept the secret, 
 
 " I really believe," approved Maxence, " that, to reach 
 the enemies of our father, M. de Tregars possesses some 
 powerful means; and what they are we will doubtless 
 soon know, since I have an appointment with him for 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 It came at last, that morrow, which he had awaited 
 with an impatience that neither his mother nor his sister 
 could suspect. And towards half -past nine he was 
 ready to go out, when M. Chapelain came in. Still ir- 
 ritated by the scenes he had just witnessed at the Mu- 
 tual Credit office, the old lawyer had a most lugubrious 
 countenance.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 349 
 
 " I bring bad news," he began. " I have just seen the 
 Baron de Thaller." 
 
 He had said so much the day before about having 
 nothing more to do with it, that Maxence could not re- 
 press a gesture of surprise. 
 
 " Oh ! it isn't alone that I saw him," added M. Chape- 
 lain, " but together with at least a hundred stockholders 
 of the Mutual Credit." 
 
 " They are going to do something, then ? " 
 
 " No : they only came near doing something. You 
 should have seen them this morning! They were fu- 
 rious ; they threatened to break every thing ; they wanted 
 M. de Thaller's blood. It was terrible. But M. de 
 Thaller condescended to receive them ; and they became 
 at once as meek as lambs. It is perfectly simple. What 
 do you suppose stockholders can do, no matter how ex- 
 asperated they may be, when their manager tells 
 them? 
 
 " ' Well, yes, it's a fact you have been robbed, and 
 your money is in great jeopardy ; but if you make any 
 fuss, if you complain thus, all is sure to be lost.' Of 
 course, the stockholders keep quiet. It is a well-known 
 fact that a business which has to be liquidated through 
 the courts is gone; and swindled stockholders fear the 
 law almost as much as the swindling manager. A single 
 fact will make the situation clearer to you. Less than 
 an hour ago, M. de Thaller's stockholders offered him 
 money to make up the loss." 
 
 And, after a moment of silence, 
 
 " But this is not all. Justice has interfered ; and M. 
 de Thaller spent the morning with an examining-magis- 
 trate." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, I have enough experience to affirm that you
 
 350 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 must not rely any more upon justice than upon the 
 stockholders. Unless there are proofs so evident that 
 they are not likely to exist, M. de Thaller will not be 
 disturbed." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Why ? Because, my dear, in all those big financial 
 operations, justice, as much as possible, remains blind. 
 Not through corruption or any guilty connivance, but 
 through considerations of public interest. If the man- 
 ager was prosecuted he would be condemned to a few 
 years' imprisonment; but his stockholders would at the 
 same time be condemned to lose what they have left ; so 
 that the victims would be more severely punished than 
 the swindler. And so, powerless, justice does not inter- 
 fere. And that's what accounts for the impudence and 
 impunity of all these high-flown rascals who go about 
 with their heads high, their pockets filled with other 
 people's money, and half a dozen decorations at their 
 button-hole." 
 
 " And what then ? " asked Maxence. 
 
 " Then it is evident that your father is lost. Whether 
 or not he have accomplices, he will be alone sacrificed. 
 A scapegoat is needed to be slaughtered on the altar of 
 credit. Well, they will give that much satisfaction to 
 the swindled stockholders. The twelve millions will be 
 lost; but the shares of the Mutual Credit will go up, 
 and public morality will be safe." 
 
 Somewhat moved by the old lawyer's tone, 
 
 "What do you advise me to do, then?" inquired 
 Maxence. 
 
 " The very reverse of what, on the first impulse, I ad- 
 vised you to do. That's why I have come. I told you 
 yesterday, ' Make a row, act, scream. It is impossible 
 that your father be alone guilty ; attack M. de Thaller/
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 351 
 
 To-day, after mature deliberation, I say, ' Keep quiet, 
 hide yourself, let the scandal drop.' " 
 
 A bitter smile contracted Maxence's lips. 
 
 " It is not very brave advice you are giving me there," 
 he said. 
 
 " It is a friend's advice, the advice of a man who 
 knows life better than yourself. Poor young man, you 
 are not aware of the peril of certain struggles. All 
 knaves are in league and sustain each other. To attack 
 one is to attack them all. You have no idea of the occult 
 influences of which a man can dispose who handles mil- 
 lions, and who, in exchange for a favor, has always a 
 bonus to offer, or a good operation to propose. If at 
 least I could see any chance of success ! But you have 
 not one. You never can reach M. 4e Thaller, henceforth 
 backed by his stockholders. You will only succeed in 
 making an enemy whose hostility will weigh upon your 
 whole life." 
 
 "What does it matter?" 
 
 M. Chapelain shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " If you were alone," he went on, " I would say as 
 you do, ' What does it matter ? ' But you are no longer 
 alone : you have your mother and sister to take care of. 
 You must think of food before thinking of vengeance. 
 How much a month do you earn ? Two hundred francs ! 
 It is not much for three persons. I would never suggest 
 that you should solicit M. de Thaller's protection; but 
 it would be well, perhaps, to let him know that he has 
 nothing to fear from you. Why shouldn't you do so 
 when you take his fifteen thousand francs back to him? 
 If, as every thing indicates, he has been your father's 
 accomplice, he will certainly be touched by the distress 
 of your family, and, if he has any heart left, he will man- 
 age to make you find, without appearing to have any
 
 352 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 thing to do with it, a situation better suited to your 
 wants. I know that such a step must be very painful; 
 but I repeat it, my dear child, you can no longer think of 
 yourself alone ; and what one would not do for himself, 
 one does for a mother and a sister." 
 
 Maxence said nothing. Not that he was in any way 
 affected by the worthy old lawyer's speech ; but he was 
 asking himself whether or not he should confide to him 
 the events which in the past twenty-four hours had so 
 suddenly modified the situation. He did not feel au- 
 thorized to do so. 
 
 Marius de Tregars had not bound him to secrecy ; but 
 an indiscretion- might have fatal consequences. 
 
 And, after a moment of thought, 
 
 " I am obliged to you, sir," he replied evasively, "for 
 the interest you have manifested in our welfare ; and we 
 shall always greatly prize your advice. But for the 
 present you must allow me to leave you with my mother 
 and sister. I have an appointment with a friend." 
 
 And, without waiting for an answer, he slipped M. 
 de Thaller's fifteen thousand francs in his pocket, and 
 hurried out. It was not to M. de Tregars that he went 
 first, however, but to the Hotel des Folies. 
 
 " Mile. Lucienne has just come home with a big 
 bundle," said Mme. Fortin to Maxence, with her pleas- 
 antest smile, as soon as she had seen him emerge from 
 the shades of the corridor. 
 
 For the past twenty-four hours, the worthy hostess 
 had been watching for her guest, in the hopes of ob- 
 taining some information which she might communicate 
 to the neighbors. Without even condescending to an- 
 swer, a piece of rudeness at which she felt much hurt, he 
 crossed the narrow court of the hotel at a bound, and 
 started up stairs.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 353 
 
 Mile. Lucienne's room was open. He walked in, and, 
 still out of breath from his rapid ascension, 
 
 " I am glad to find you in," he exclaimed. 
 
 The young girl was busy, arranging upon her bed a 
 dress of very light colored silk, trimmed with ruches 
 and lace, an overdress to match, and a bonnet of won- 
 derful shape, loaded with the most brilliant feathers and 
 flowers. 
 
 " You see what brings me here," she replied. " I 
 came home to dress. At two o'clock the carriage is com- 
 ing to take me to the bois, where I am to exhibit this 
 costume, certainly the most ridiculous that Van Klopen 
 has yet made me wear." 
 
 A smile flitted upon Maxence's lips. 
 
 " Who knows," said he, " if this is not the last time 
 you will have to perform this odious task? Ah, my 
 friend! what events have taken place since I last saw 
 you!" 
 
 " Fortunate ones ? " 
 
 " You will judge for yourself." 
 
 He closed the door carefully, and, returning to Mile. 
 Lucienne, 
 
 " Do you know the Marquis de Tregars ? " he asked. 
 
 " No more than you do. It was yesterday, at 
 the commissary of police, that I first heard his 
 name." 
 
 " Well, before a month, M. de Tregars will be Mile. 
 Gilberte Favoral's husband." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " exclaimed Mile. Lucienne with a 
 look of extreme surprise. 
 
 But, instead of answering, 
 
 " You told me/' resumed Maxence, " that once, in a 
 day of supreme distress, you had applied to Mme. de 
 Thaller for assistance, whereas you were actually en-
 
 354 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 titled to an indemnity for having been run over and se- 
 riously hurt by her carriage." 
 
 " That is true." 
 
 " Whilst you were in the vestibule, waiting for an 
 answer to your letter, which a servant had taken up 
 stairs, M. de Thaller came in ; and, when he saw you, he 
 could not repress a gesture of surprise, almost of ter- 
 ror." 
 
 " That is true too." 
 
 " This behavior of M. de Thaller always remained an 
 enigma to you." 
 
 " An inexplicable one." 
 
 " Well, I think that I can explain it to you now." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 Lowering his voice; for he knew that at the Hotel 
 des Folies there was always to fear some indiscreet 
 ear, 
 
 " Yes, I," he answered ; " and for the reason that yes- 
 terday, when M. de Tregars appeared in my mother's 
 parlor, I could not suppress an exclamation of surprise, 
 for the reason, Lucienne, that, between Marius de Tre- 
 gars and yourself, there is a resemblance with which it 
 is impossible not to be struck." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne had become very pale. 
 
 " What do you suppose, then ? " she asked. 
 
 " I believe, my friend, that we are very near pene- 
 trating at once the mystery of your birth and the secret 
 of the hatred that has pursued you since the day when 
 you first set your foot in M. de Thaller's house." 
 
 Admirably self-possessed as Mile. Lucienne usually 
 was, the quivering of her lips betrayed at this moment 
 the intensity of her emotion. 
 
 After more than a minute of profound medita- 
 tion,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 355 
 
 " The commissary of police," she said, " has never told 
 me his hopes, except in vague terms. He has told me 
 enough, however, to make me think that he has already 
 had suspicions similar to yours." 
 
 " Of course ! Would he otherwise have questioned 
 me on the subject of M. de Tregars? " 
 
 Mile. Lucienne shook her head. 
 
 " And yet," she said, " even after your explanation, 
 it is in vain that I seek why and how I can so far dis- 
 turb M. de Thaller's security that he wishes to do away 
 with me." 
 
 Maxence made a gesture of superb indifference. 
 
 " I confess," he said, " that I don't see it either. But 
 what matters it? Without being able to explain why, 
 I feel that the Baron de Thaller is the common enemy, 
 yours, mine, my father's, and M. de Tregars'. And 
 something tells me, that, with M. de Tregars' help, we 
 shall triumph. You would share my confidence, Lu- 
 cienne, if you knew him. There is a man ! and my sister 
 has made no vulgar choice. If he has told my mother 
 that he has the means of serving her, it is because he 
 certainly has." 
 
 He stopped, and, after a moment of silence, 
 
 " Perhaps," he went on, " the commissary of police 
 might readily understand what I only dimly suspect; 
 but, until further orders, we are forbidden to have re- 
 course to him. It is not my own secret that I have just 
 told you ; and, if I have confided it to you, it is because 
 I feel that it is a great piece of good fortune for us ; and 
 there is no joy for me, that you do not share." 
 
 Mile. Lucienne wanted to ask many more particulars. 
 
 But, looking at his watch, 
 
 "Half-past ten ! " he exclaimed, " and M. de Tregars 
 waiting for me."
 
 356 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And he started off, repeating once more to the young 
 girl 
 
 " I will see you to-night : until then, good hope and 
 good courage." 
 
 In the court, two ill-looking men were talking with 
 the Fortins. But it happened often to the Fortins to 
 talk with ill-looking men : so he took no notice of them, 
 ran out to the Boulevard, and jumping into a cab, 
 
 " Rue Lafitte 70," he cried to the driver, " I pay the 
 trip, three francs." 
 
 When Marius de Tregars had finally determined to 
 compel the bold rascals who had swindled his father to 
 disgorge, he had taken in the Rue Lafitte a small, 
 plainly-furnished apartment on the entresol, a fit dwell- 
 ing for the man of action, the tent in which he takes 
 shelter on the eve of battle ; and he had to wait upon him 
 an old family servant, whom he had found out of place, 
 and who had for him that unquestioning and obstinate 
 devotion peculiar to Breton servants. 
 
 It was this excellent man who came at the first stroke 
 of the bell to open the door. And, as soon as Maxence 
 had told him his name, 
 
 " Ah ! " he exclaimed, " my master has been expecting 
 you with a terrible impatience." 
 
 It was so true, that M. de Tregars himself appeared 
 at the same moment, and, leading Maxence into the little 
 room which he used as a study, 
 
 " Do you know," he said whilst shaking him cordially 
 by the hand, " that you are almost an hour behind 
 time?" 
 
 Maxence had, among others the detestable fault, sure 
 indication of a weak nature, of being never willing to 
 be in the wrong, and of having always an excuse ready. 
 On this occasion, the excuse was too tempting to al-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 357 
 
 low it to escape ; and quick he began telling how he had 
 been detained by M. Chapelain, and how he had heard 
 from the old lawyer what had taken place at the Mutual 
 Credit office. 
 
 " I know the scene already," said M. de Tregars. 
 
 And, fixing upon Maxence a look of friendly rail- 
 lery, 
 
 " Only," he added, " I attributed your want of punc- 
 tuality to another reason, a very pretty one this time, 
 a brunette." 
 
 A purple cloud spread over Maxence's cheeks. 
 
 "What!" he stammered, "you know?" 
 
 "I thought you must have been in haste to go and 
 tell a person of your acquaintance why, when you saw 
 me yesterday, you uttered an exclamation of surprise." 
 
 This time Maxence lost all countenance. 
 
 " What," he said, " you know too? " 
 
 M. de Tregars smiled. 
 
 " I know a great many things, my dear M. Maxence," 
 he replied ; " and yet, as I do not wish to be suspected 
 of witchcraft, I will tell you where all my science comes 
 from. At the time when your house was closed to me, 
 after seeking for a long time some means of hearing 
 from your sister, I discovered at last that she had for 
 her music-teacher an old Italian, the Signer Gismondi 
 Pulei. I applied to him for lessons, and became his pu- 
 pil. But, in the beginning, he kept looking at me with 
 singular persistence. I inquired the reason ; and he told 
 me that he had once had for a neighbor, at the Batig- 
 nolles, a young working-girl, who resembled me pro- 
 digiously. I paid no attention to this circumstance, and 
 had, in fact, completely forgotten it ; when, quite lately, 
 Gismondo told me that he had just seen his former 
 neighbor again, and, what's more, arm in arm with you,
 
 358 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and that you both entered together the Hotel des Folies. 
 As he insisted again upon that famous resemblance, I 
 determined to see for myself. I watched, and I stated, 
 de visa, that my old Italian was not quite wrong, and 
 that I had, perhaps, just found the weapon I was look- 
 ing for." 
 
 His eyes staring, and his mouth gaping, Maxence 
 looked like a man fallen from the clouds. 
 
 " Ah, you did watch ! " he said. 
 
 M. de Tregars snapped his fingers with a gesture of 
 indifference. 
 
 " It is certain," he replied, " that, for a month past, 
 I have been doing a singular business. But it is not 
 by remaining on my chair, preaching against the corrup- 
 tion of the age, that I can attain my object. The end 
 justifies the means. Honest men are very silly, I think, 
 to allow the rascals to get the better of them under the 
 sentimental pretext that they cannot condescend to make 
 use of their weapons." 
 
 But an honorable scruple was tormenting Max- 
 ence. 
 
 "And you think yourself well-informed, sir ? " he 
 inquired. " You know Lucienne ? " 
 
 " Enough to know that she is not what she seems 
 to be, and what almost any other would have been in her 
 place; enough to be certain, that, if she shows herself 
 two or three times a week riding around the lake, it is 
 not for her pleasure ; enough, also, to be persuaded, that, 
 despite appearances, she is not your mistress, and that, 
 far from having disturbed your life, and compromised 
 your prospects, she set you back into the right road, at 
 the moment, perhaps, when you were about to branch 
 off into the wrong path."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 359 
 
 Marius de Tregars was assuming fantastic propor- 
 tions in the mind of Maxence. 
 
 " How did you manage," he stammered, " thus to 
 find out the truth ? " 
 
 " With time and money, every thing is possible." 
 
 " But you must have had grave reasons to take so 
 much trouble about Lucienne." 
 
 " Very grave ones, indeed." 
 
 " You know that she was basely forsaken when quite 
 a child?" 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " And that she was brought up through charity " 
 
 " By some poor gardeners at Louveciennes : yes, I 
 know all that." 
 
 Maxence was trembling with joy. It seemed to him 
 that his most dazzling hopes were about to be realized. 
 Seizing the hands of Marius de Tregars, 
 
 " Ah, you know Lucienne's family ! " he- exclaimed. 
 
 But M. de Tregars shook his head. 
 
 " I have suspicions," he answered ; " but, up to this 
 time, I have suspicions only, I assure you." 
 
 " But that family does exist ; since they have already, 
 at three different times., attempted to get rid of the poor 
 girl." 
 
 " I think as you do ; but we must have proofs : and we 
 shall find some. You may rest assured of that." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the noise of the opening 
 door. 
 
 The old servant came in, and advancing to the centre 
 of the room with a mysterious look, 
 
 " Madame la Baronne de Thaller," he said in a low 
 voice. 
 
 Marius de Tregars started violently.
 
 360 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 "Where? "he asked. 
 
 " She is down stairs in her carriage," replied the ser- 
 vant. " Her footman is here, asking whether monsieur 
 is at home, and whether she can come up." 
 
 "Can she possibly have heard any thing?" mur- 
 mured M. de Tregars with a deep frown. 
 
 And, after a moment of reflection, 
 
 " So much the more reason to see her," he added 
 quickly. " Let her come. Request her to do me the 
 honor of coming up stairs." 
 
 This, last incident completely upset all Maxence's 
 ideas. He no longer knew what to imagine. 
 
 " Quick," said M. de Tregars to him : " quick, dis- 
 appear ; and, whatever you may hear, not a word ! " 
 
 And he pushed him into his bedroom, which was di- 
 vided from the study by a mere tapestry curtain. 
 
 It was time; for already in the next room could be 
 heard a great rustling of silk and starched petticoats. 
 Mme. de Thaller appeared. 
 
 She was still the same coarsely beautiful woman, who, 
 sixteen years before, had sat at Mme. Favoral's table. 
 Time had passed without scarcely touching her with the 
 tip of his wing. Her flesh had retained its dazzling 
 whiteness; her hair, of a bluish black, its marvellous 
 opulence; her lips, their carmine hue; her eyes, their 
 lustre. Her figure only had become heavier, her fea- 
 tures less delicate ; and her neck and throat had lost their 
 undulations, and the purity of their outlines. 
 
 But neither the years, nor the millions, nor the in- 
 timacy of the most fashionable women, had been able to 
 give her those qualities which cannot be acquired, 
 grace, distinction, and taste. 
 
 If there was a woman accustomed to dress, it was she : 
 a splendid dry-goods store could have been set up with
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 361 
 
 the silks and the velvets, the satins and cashmeres, the 
 muslins, the laces, and all the known tissues, that had 
 passed over her shoulders. 
 
 Her elegance was quoted and copied. And yet there 
 was about her always and under all circumstances, an 
 indescribable flavor of the parvenue. Her gestures had 
 remained trivial ; her voice, common and vulgar. 
 
 Throwing herself into an arm-chair, and bursting into 
 a loud laugh, 
 
 " Confess, my dear marquis," she said, " that you are 
 terribly astonished to see me thus drop upon you, with- 
 out warning, at eleven o'clock in the morning." 
 
 " I feel, above all, terribly flattered," replied M. de 
 Tregars, smiling. 
 
 With a rapid glance she was surveying the little 
 study, the modest furniture, the papers piled on the desk, 
 as if she had hoped that the dwelling would reveal to 
 her something of the master's ideas and projects. 
 
 " I was just coming from Van Klopen's," she re- 
 sumed ; " and passing before your house, I took a fancy 
 to come in and stir you up ; and here I am." 
 
 M. de Tregars was too much a man of the world, and 
 of the best world, to allow his features to betray the se- 
 cret of his impressions; and yet, to any one who had 
 known him well, a certain contraction of the eyelids 
 would have revealed a serious annoyance and an intense 
 anxiety. 
 
 " How is the baron ? " he inquired. 
 
 " As sound as an oak/' answered Mme. de Thaller, 
 " notwithstanding all the cares and the troubles, which 
 you can well imagine. By the way, you know what has 
 happened to us ? " 
 
 " I read in the papers that the cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit had disappeared."
 
 362 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 "And it is but too true. That wretch Favoral has 
 gone off with an enormous amount of money." 
 
 " Twelve millions, I heard." 
 
 " Something like it. A man who had the reputation 
 of a saint too; a puritan. Trust people's faces after 
 that ! I never liked him, I confess. But M. de Thaller 
 had a perfect fancy for him ; and, when he had spoken 
 of his Favoral, there was nothing more to say. Any 
 way, he has cleared out, leaving his family without 
 means. A very interesting family, it seems, too, a wife 
 who is goodness itself, and a charming daughter: at 
 least, so says Costeclar, who is very much in love with 
 her." 
 
 M. de Tregars' countenance remained perfectly in- 
 different, like that of a man who is hearing about per- 
 sons and things in which he does not take the slightest 
 interest. 
 
 Mme. de Thaller noticed this. 
 
 " But it isn't to tell you all this," she went on, " that 
 I came up. It is an interested motive brought me. We 
 have, some of my friends and myself, organized a lottery 
 a work of charity, my dear marquis, and quite pa- 
 triotic for the benefit of the Alsatians. I have lots of 
 tickets to dispose of ; and I've thought of you to help me 
 out." 
 
 More smiling than ever, 
 
 " I am at your orders, madame," answered Marius, 
 "but, in mercy, spare me." 
 
 She took out some tickets from a small shell pocket- 
 book. 
 
 " Twenty, at ten francs," she said. " It isn't too much, 
 is it?" 
 
 " It is a great deal for my modest resources."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 363 
 
 She pocketed the ten napoleons which he handed her, 
 and, in a tone of ironical compassion, 
 
 " Are you so very poor, then ? " she asked. 
 
 " Why, I am neither banker nor broker, you know." 
 
 She had risen, and was smoothing the folds of her 
 dress. 
 
 " Well, my dear marquis," she resumed, " it is cer- 
 tainly not me who will pity you. When a man of your 
 age, and with your name, remains poor, it is his own 
 fault. Are there no rich heiresses?*' 
 
 " I confess that I haven't tried to find one yet." 
 
 She looked at him straight in the eyes, and then sud- 
 denly bursting out laughing, 
 
 " Look around you," she said, " and I am sure you'll 
 not be long discovering a beautiful young girl, very 
 blonde, who would be delighted to become Marquise de 
 Tregars, and who would bring in her apron a dowry of 
 twelve or fifteen hundred thousand francs in good se- 
 curities, securities which the Favorals can't carry off. 
 Think well, and then come to see us. You know that 
 M. de Thaller is very fond of you; and, after all the 
 trouble we have been having, you owe us a visit." 
 
 Whereupon she went out, M. de Tregars, going down 
 to escort her to her carriage. 
 
 But as he came up, 
 
 " Attention ! " he cried to Maxence ; " for it's very 
 evident that the Thallers have wind of something." 
 
 III. 
 
 IT was a revelation, that visit of Mme. de Thaller's ; 
 and there was no need of very much perspicacity to
 
 364 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 guess her anxiety beneath her bursts of laughter, and to 
 understand that it was a bargain she had come to pro- 
 pose. It was evident, therefore, that Marius de Tre- 
 gars held within his hands the principal threads of that 
 complicated intrigue which had just culminated in that 
 robbery of twelve millions. But would he be able to 
 make use of them? What were his designs, and his 
 means of action? That is what Maxence could not in 
 any way conjecture. 
 
 He had no time to ask questions. 
 
 " Come," said M. Tregars, whose agitation was 
 manifest, " come, let us breakfast : w.e have not a mo- 
 ment to lose." 
 
 And, whilst his servant was bringing in his modest 
 meal, 
 
 " I am expecting M. d'Escajoul," he said. " Show 
 him in as soon as he comes." 
 
 Retired as he had lived from the financial world, 
 Maxence had yet heard the name of Octave d'Escajoul. 
 
 Who has not seen him, happy and smiling, his eye 
 bright, and his lip ruddy, notwithstanding his fifty 
 years, walking on the sunny side of the Boulevard, with 
 his royal blue jacket and his eternal white vest? He is 
 passionately fond of everything that tends to make life 
 pleasant and easy ; dines at Bignon's, or the Cafe An- 
 glais; plays baccarat at the club with extraordinary 
 luck ; has the most comfortable apartment and the most 
 elegant coupe in all Paris. With all this, he is pleased 
 to declare that he is the happiest of men, and is certainly 
 one of the most popular; for he cannot walk three 
 blocks on the Boulevard without lifting his hat at least 
 fifty times, and shaking hands twice as often. 
 
 And when any one asks, " What does he do ? " the in- 
 variable answer is, " Why he operates."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 365 
 
 To explain what sort of operations, would not be, 
 perhaps, very easy. In the world of rogues, there are 
 some rogues more formidable and more skilful than the 
 rest, who always manage to escape the hand of the law. 
 They are not such fools as to operate in person, not 
 they! They content themselves with watching their 
 friends and comrades. If a good haul is made, at once 
 they appear and claim their share. And, as they al- 
 ways threaten to inform, there is no help for it but to let 
 them pocket the clearest of the profit. 
 
 Well, in a more elevated sphere, in the world of spec- 
 ulation, it is precisely that lucrative and honorable in- 
 dustry which M. d'Escajoul carries on. Thoroughly 
 master of his ground, possessing a superior scent and 
 an imperturbable patience, always awake, and continu- 
 ally on the watch, he never operates unless he is sure 
 to win. 
 
 And the day when the manager of some company has 
 violated his charter or stretched the law a little too far, 
 he may be sure to see M. d'Escajoul appear, and ask for 
 some little advantages, and proffer, in exchange, the 
 most thorough discretion, and even his kind offices. 
 
 Two or three of his friends have heard him say, 
 
 " Who would dare to blame me ? It's very moral, 
 what I am doing." 
 
 Such is the man who came in, smiling, just as Max- 
 ence and Marius de Tregars had sat down at the table. 
 
 M. de Tregars rose to receive him. 
 ' You will breakfast with us ? " he said. 
 
 " Thank you," answered M. d'Escajoul. " I break- 
 fasted precisely at eleven, as usual. Punctuality is a 
 politeness which a man owes to his stomach. But I 
 will accept with pleasure a drop of that old (Cognac 
 which you offered me the other evening."
 
 366 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 He took a seat; and the valet brought him a glass, 
 which he set on the edge of the table. Then, 
 
 " I have just seen our man," he said. 
 
 Maxence understood that he was referring to M. de 
 Thaller. 
 
 " Well? " inquired M. de Tregars. 
 
 " Impossible to get any thing out of him. I turned 
 him over and over, every way. Nothing ! " 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " It's so ; and you know if I understand the business. 
 But what can you say to a man who answers you all the 
 time, ' The matter is in the hands of the law ; experts 
 have been named; I have nothing to fear from the 
 most minute investigations ' ? " 
 
 By the look which Marius de Tregars kept riveted 
 upon M. d'Escajoul, it was easy to see that his confi- 
 dence in him was not without limits. He felt it, and, 
 with an air of injured innocence, 
 
 " Do you suspect me, by chance," he said, " to have 
 allowed myself to be hoodwinked by Thaller? " 
 
 And as M. de Tregars said nothing, which was the 
 most eloquent of answers, 
 
 " Upon my word," he insisted, " you are wrong to 
 doubt me. Was it you who came after me? No. It 
 was I, who, hearing through Marcolet the history of 
 your fortune, came to tell you, ' Do you want to know a 
 way of swamping Thaller ? ' And the reasons I had 
 to wish that Thaller might be swamped : I have them 
 still. He trifled with me, he ' sold ' me, and he must 
 suffer for it ; for, if it came to be known that I could be 
 taken in w.ith impunity, it would be all over with my 
 credit." 
 
 After a moment of silence,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 367 
 
 " Do you believe, then," asked M. de Tregars, " that 
 M. de Thaller is innocent? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " That would be curious." 
 
 " Or else his measures are so well taken that he has 
 absolutely nothing to fear. If Favoral takes everything 
 upon himself, what can they say to the other? If they 
 have acted in collusion, the thing has been prepared 
 for a long time; and, before commencing to fish, they 
 must have troubled the water so well, that justice will 
 be unable to see anything in it." 
 
 " And you see no one who could help us ? " 
 
 " Favoral " 
 
 To Maxence's great surprise, M. de Tregars shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " That one is gone," he said ; " and, were he at hand, 
 it is quite evident that if he was in collusion with M. 
 de Thaller, he would not speak." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " That being the case, what can we do ? " 
 
 " Wait." 
 
 M. de Tregars made a gesture of discourage- 
 ment. 
 
 " I might as well give up the fight, then," he said, 
 " and try to compromise." 
 
 " Why so ? We don't know what may happen. Keep 
 quiet, be patient ; I am here, and I am looking out for 
 squalls." 
 
 He got up and prepared to leave. 
 
 " You have more experience than I have," said M. de 
 Tregars ; " and, since that's your opinion " 
 
 M. d'Escajoul had resumed all his good humor. 
 
 " Very well, then, it's understood," he said, pressing
 
 368 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 M. de Tregars' hand. " I am watching for both of us ; 
 and if I see a chance, I come at once, and you act." 
 
 But the outer door had hardly closed, when suddenly 
 the countenance of Marius de Tregars changed. Shak- 
 ing the hand which M. d'Escajoul had just touched, 
 
 " Pouah ! " he said with a look of thorough disgust, 
 "pouah!" 
 
 And noticing Maxence's look of utter surprise, 
 
 " Don't you understand," he said, " that this old 
 rascal has been sent to me by Thaller to feel my inten- 
 tions, and mislead me by false information? I had 
 scented him, fortunately; and, if either one of us is 
 dupe of the other, I have every reason to believe that 
 it will not be me." 
 
 They had finished their breakfast. M. de Tregars 
 called his servant. 
 
 " Have you been for a carriage ? " he asked. 
 
 " It is at the door, sir." 
 
 " Well, then, come along." 
 
 Maxence had the good sense not to over-estimate 
 himself. Perfectly convinced that he could accom- 
 plish nothing alone, he was firmly resolved to trust 
 blindly to Marius de Tregars. 
 
 He followed him, therefore ; and it was only after the 
 carriage had started, that he ventured to ask, 
 
 " Where are we going ? " 
 
 " Didn't you hear me," replied M. de Tregars, " order 
 the driver to take us to the court-house ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; but what I wish to know is, 
 what we are going to do there ? " 
 
 " You are going, my dear friend, to ask an audience 
 of the judge who has your father's case in charge, and 
 deposit into his hands the fifteen thousand francs you 
 have in your pocket."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 369 
 
 " What ! You wish me to " 
 
 " I think it better to place that money into the hands 
 of justice, which will appreciate the step, than into those 
 of M. de Thaller, who would not breathe a word about 
 it. We are in a position where nothing should be neg- 
 lected ; and that money may prove an indication." 
 
 But they had arrived. M. de Tregars guided Max- 
 ence through the labyrinth of corridors of the build- 
 ing, until he came to a long gallery, at the entrance 
 of which an usher was seated reading a newspaper. 
 
 " M. Barban d'Avranchel ? " inquired M. de Tre- 
 gars. 
 
 " He is in his office." replied the usher. 
 
 " Please ask him if he would receive an important 
 deposition in the Favoral case." 
 
 The usher rose somewhat reluctantly, and, while he 
 was gone, 
 
 " You will go in alone," said M. de Tregars to Max- 
 ence. " I shall not appear ; and it is important that 
 my name should not even be pronounced. But, above 
 all, try and remember even the most insignificant words 
 of the judge ; for, upon what he tells you, I shall reg- 
 ulate my conduct." 
 
 The usher returned. 
 
 " M. d'Avranchel will receive you," he said. 
 
 And, leading Maxence to the extremity of the gal- 
 lery, he opened a small door, and pushed him in, say- 
 ing at the same time, 
 
 " That is it, sir : walk in." 
 
 It was a small room, with a low ceiling, and poorly 
 furnished. The faded curtains and threadbare carpet 
 showed plainly that more than one judge had occupied 
 it, and that legions of accused criminals had passed 
 through it. In front of a table, two men one old..
 
 370 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the judge; the other young, the clerk were signing 
 and classifying papers. These papers related to the 
 Favoral case, and were all indorsed in large letters: 
 Mutual Credit Company. 
 
 As soon as Maxence appeared, the judge rose, and, 
 after measuring him with a clear and cold look : 
 
 " Who are you ? " he interrogated. 
 
 In a somewhat husky voice, Maxence stated his name 
 and surname. 
 
 " All ! you are Vincent Favoral's son," interrupted 
 the judge. " And it was you who helped him escape 
 through the window? I was going to send you a sum- 
 mons this very day; but, since you are here, so much 
 the better. You have something important to com- 
 municate, I have been told." 
 
 Very few people, even among the most strictly hon- 
 est, can overcome a certain unpleasant feeling when, 
 having crossed the threshold of the palace of justice, 
 they find themselves in presence of a judge. More 
 than almost any one else, Maxence was likely to be 
 accessible to that vague and inexplicable feeling; and 
 it was with an effort that he answered, 
 
 " On Saturday evening, the Baron de Thaller called 
 at our house a few minutes before the commissary. 
 After loading my father with reproaches, he invited 
 him to leave the country ; and, in order to facilitate his 
 flight, he handed him these fifteen thousand francs. My 
 father declined to accept them; and, at the moment of 
 parting, he recommended to me particularly to return 
 them to M. de Thaller. I thought it best to return them 
 to you, sir." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because I wished the fact known to you of the 
 money having been offered and refused."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 371 
 
 M. Barban d'Avranchel was quietly stroking his 
 whiskers, once of a bright red, but now almost entirely 
 white. 
 
 " Is this an insinuation against the manager of 
 the Mutual Credit ? " he asked. 
 
 Maxence looked straight at him ; and, in a tone which 
 affirmed precisely the reverse, 
 
 " I accuse no one," he said. 
 
 " I must tell you," resumed the judge, " that M. de 
 Thaller has himself informed me of this circumstance. 
 When he called at your house, he was ignorant, as yet, 
 of the extent of the embezzlements, and was in hopes 
 of being able to hush up the affair. That's why he 
 wished his cashier to start for Belgium. This system 
 of helping criminals to escape the just punishment of 
 their crimes is to be bitterly deplored ; but it is quite the 
 habit of your financial magnates, who prefer sending 
 some poor devil of an employe to hang himself abroad, 
 than run the risk of compromising their credit by con- 
 fessing that they have been robbed." 
 
 Maxence might have had a great deal to say ; but M. 
 de Tregars had recommended him the most extreme 
 reserve. He remained silent. 
 
 " On the other hand," resumed the judge, " the re- 
 fusal to accept the money so generously offered does 
 not speak in favor of Vincent Favoral. He was well 
 aware, when he left, that it would require a great deal 
 of money to reach the frontier, escape pursuit, and hide 
 himself abroad; and, if he refused the fifteen thousand 
 francs, it must have been because he was well provided 
 for already." 
 
 Tears of shame and rage started from Maxence's eyes. 
 
 " I am certain, sir," he exclaimed, " that my father 
 went off without a sou."
 
 372 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " What has become of the millions, then ? " he asked 
 coldly. 
 
 Maxence hesitated. Why not mention his suspi- 
 cions ? He dared not. 
 
 " My father speculated at the bourse," he stammered. 
 
 " And he led a scandalous conduct, keeping up, away 
 from home, a style of living which must have absorbed 
 immense sums." 
 
 " We knew nothing of it, sir ; and our first suspicions 
 were aroused by what the commissary of police told us." 
 
 The judge insisted no more; and in a tone which in- 
 dicated that his question was a mere matter of form, 
 and he attached but little importance to the answer, 
 
 " You have no new.s from your father ? " he asked. 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " And you have no idea where he has gone? " 
 
 " None in the least." 
 
 M. d'Avranchel had already resumed his seat at the 
 table, and was again busy with his papers. 
 
 " You may retire," he said. You will be notified if 
 I need you." 
 
 Maxence felt much discouraged when he joined M. 
 de Tregars at the entrance of the gallery. 
 
 " The judge is convinced of M. de Thaller's entire 
 innocence," he said. 
 
 But as soon as he had narrated, with a fidelity that 
 did honor to his memory, all that had just occurred, 
 
 " Nothing is lost yet," declared M. de Tregars. 
 
 And, taking from his pocket the bill for two trunks, 
 which had been found in M. Favoral's portfolio, 
 
 " There," he said, " we shall know our fate."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 373 
 
 IV. 
 
 M. DE TREGARS and Maxence were in luck. They 
 had a good driver and a fair horse ; and in twenty min- 
 utes they were at the trunk store. As soon as the cab 
 stopped, 
 
 " Well," exclaimed M. de Tregars, " I suppose it 
 has to be done." 
 
 And, with the look of a man who has made up his 
 mind to do something which is extremely repugnant to 
 him, he jumped out, and, followed by Maxence, entered 
 the shop. 
 
 " It was a modest establishment ; and the people who 
 kept it, husband and wife, seeing two customers coming 
 in, rushed to meet them, with that welcoming smile 
 which blossoms upon the lips of every Parisian shop- 
 keeper. 
 
 " What will you have, gentlemen ? " 
 
 And, with wonderful volubility, they went on enu- 
 merating every article which they had for sale in their 
 shop, from the " indispensable-necessary," contain- 
 ing seventy-seven pieces of solid silver, and costing four 
 thousand francs, down to the humblest carpet-bag at 
 thirty-nine cents. 
 
 But Marius de Tregars interrupted them as soon as he 
 could get an opportunity, and, showing them their 
 bill, 
 
 " It was here, wasn't it," he inquired, " that the two 
 trunks were bought which are charged in this bill ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered simultaneously both husband 
 and wife. 
 
 " When were they delivered ? " 
 
 " Our porter went to deliver them, less than two 
 hours after they were bought."
 
 374 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 By this time the shopkeepers were beginning to ex- 
 change uneasy looks. 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " inquired the woman in a tone 
 which indicated that she had the settled intention not 
 to answer, unless for good and valid reason. 
 
 To obtain the simplest information is not always as 
 easy as might be supposed. The suspicion of the 
 Parisian tradesman is easily aroused; and, as his head 
 is stuffed with stories of spies and robbers, as soon 
 as he is questioned he becomes as dumb as an oyster. 
 
 But M. de Tregars had foreseen the difficulty. 
 
 " I beg you to believe, madame," he went on, 
 " that my questions are not dictated by an idle curiosity. 
 Here are the facts. A relative of ours, a man of a cer- 
 tain age, of whom we are very fond, and whose head 
 is a little weak, left his home some forty-eight hours 
 since. We are looking for him, and we are in hopes, if 
 we find these trunks, to find him at the same time." 
 
 With furtive glances, the husband and wife were 
 tacitly consulting each other. 
 
 " The fact is," they said, " we wouldn't like, under 
 any consideration, to commit an indiscretion which 
 might result to the prejudice of a customer." 
 
 " Fear nothing," said M. de Tregars w,ith a reassur- 
 ing gesture. "If we have not had recourse to the po- 
 lice, it's because, you know, it isn't pleasant to have the 
 police interfere in one's affairs. If you have any objec- 
 tions to answer me, however, I must, of course, apply to 
 the commissary." 
 
 The argument proved decisive. 
 
 " If that's the case," replied the woman, " I am ready 
 to tell all I know." 
 
 " Well, then, madame, what do you know ? "
 
 375 
 
 " These two trunks were bought on Friday afternoon 
 last, by a man of a certain age, tall, very thin, with a 
 stern countenance, and wearing a long frock coat." 
 
 " No more doubt," murmured Maxence. " It was 
 he." 
 
 " And now," the woman went on, " that you have just 
 told me that your relative was a little weak in the head, 
 I remember that this gentleman had a strange sort of 
 way about him, and that he kept w.alking about the 
 store as if he had fleas on his legs. And awful partic- 
 ular he was too! Nothing was handsome enough and 
 strong enough for him ; and he was anxious about the 
 safety-locks, as he had, he said, many objects of value, 
 papers, and securities, to put away." 
 
 " And where did he tell you to send the two trunks ? " 
 
 " Rue du Cirque, to Mme. wait a minute, I have 
 
 the name at the end of my tongue." 
 
 " You must have it on your books, too," remarked 
 M. de Tregars. 
 
 The husband was already looking over his blotter. 
 
 "April 26, 1872," he said. "26, here it is: 'Two 
 leather trunks, patent safety-locks : Mme. Zelie Cadelle, 
 49 Rue du Cirque.' " 
 
 Without too much affectation, M. de Tregars had 
 drawn near to the shopkeeper, and was looking over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What is that," he asked, " written there; below the 
 address?" 
 
 " That, sir, is the direction left by the customer 
 ' Mark on each end of the trunks, in large letters, " Rio 
 de Janeiro." ' " 
 
 Maxence could not suppress an exclamation. " Oh ! " 
 
 But the tradesman mistook him; and, seizing this 
 magnificent opportunity to display his knowledge,
 
 376 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Rio de Janeiro is the capital of Brazil," he said in 
 a tone of importance. " And your relative evidently in- 
 tended to go there; and, if he has not changed his 
 mind, I doubt whether you can overtake him; for the 
 Brazilian steamer was to have sailed yesterday from 
 Havre." 
 
 Whatever may have been his intentions, M. de Tre- 
 gars remained perfectly calm. 
 
 " If that's the case," he said to the shopkeepers, " I 
 think I had better give up the chase. I am much obliged 
 to you, however, for your information." 
 
 But, once out again, 
 
 " Do you really believe," inquired Maxence, " that 
 my father has left France ? " 
 
 M. de Tregars shook his head. 
 
 " I will give you my opinion," he uttered, " aftei 
 I have investigated matters in the Rue du Cirque." 
 
 They drove there in a few minutes ; and, the cab hav- 
 ing stopped at the entrance of the street, they walked 
 on foot in front of No. 49. It was a small cottage, only 
 one story in height, built between a sanded court-yard 
 and a garden, whose tall trees showed above the roof. 
 At the windows could be seen curtains of light-colored 
 silk, a sure indication of the presence of a young and 
 pretty woman. 
 
 For a few minutes Marius de Tregars remained in 
 observation ; but, as nothing stirred, 
 
 " We must find out something, somehow/' he ex- 
 claimed impatiently. 
 
 And noticing a large grocery store bearing No. 62, 
 he directed his steps towards it, still accompanied by 
 Maxence. 
 
 It was the hour of the day when customers are rare. 
 Standing in the centre of the shop, the grocer, a big
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 377 
 
 fat man with an air of importance, was overseeing his 
 men, who were busy putting things in order. 
 
 M. de Tregars took him aside, and with an accent of 
 mystery, 
 
 " I am," he said, " a clerk with M. Drayton, the jew- 
 eller in the Rue de la Paix ; and I come to ask you one 
 of those little favors which tradespeople owe to each 
 other." 
 
 A frown appeared on the fat man's countenance. 
 He thought, perhaps, that M. Dray ton's clerks were 
 rather too stylish-looking; or else, perhaps, he felt ap- 
 prehensive of one of those numerous petty swindles of 
 which shopkeepers are constantly the victims. 
 
 " What is it ? " said he. " Speak ! " 
 
 " I am on my way," spoke M. de Tregars, " to deliver 
 a ring which a lady purchased of us yesterday. She is 
 not a regular customer, and has given us no references. 
 If she doesn't pay, shall I leave the ring ? My employer 
 told me, ' Consult some prominent tradesman of the 
 neighborhood, and follow his advice.' " 
 
 Prominent tradesman ! Delicately tickled vanity was 
 dancing in the grocer's eyes. 
 
 " What is the name of the lady ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Mme. Zelie Cadelle." 
 
 The grocer burst out laughing. 
 
 " In that case, my boy," he said, tapping familiarly 
 the shoulder of the so-called clerk, " whether she pays 
 or not, you can deliver the article." 
 
 The familiarity was not, perhaps, very much to the 
 taste of the Marquis de Tregars. No matter. 
 
 " She is rich, then, that lady ? " he said. 
 
 " Personally no. But she is protected by an old fool, 
 who allows her all her fancies." 
 
 "Indeed!"
 
 378 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " It is scandalous ; and you cannot form an idea of 
 the amount of money that is spent in that house. 
 Horses, carriages, servants, dresses, balls, dinners, card- 
 playing all night, a perpetual carnival : it must be ruin- 
 ous!" 
 
 M. de Tregars never winced. 
 
 " And the old man who pays ? " he asked ; " do you 
 know him ? " 
 
 " I have seen him pass, a tall, lean, old fellow, who 
 doesn't look very rich, either. But excuse me : here is a 
 customer I must wait upon." 
 
 Having walked out into the street, 
 
 " We must separate now," declared M. de Tregars 
 to Maxence. 
 
 "What! You wish to" 
 
 " Go and wait for me in that cafe yonder, at the cor- 
 ner of the street. I must see that Zelie Cadelle and 
 speak to her." 
 
 And without suffering an objection on the part of 
 Maxence, he walked resolutely up to the cottage-gate, 
 and rang vigorously. 
 
 At the sound of the bell, one of those servants stepped 
 out into the yard, who seem manufactured on 
 purpose, heaven knows where, for the special service of 
 young ladies who keep house, a tall rascal with sallow 
 complexion and straight hair, a cynical eye, and a low, 
 impudent smile. 
 
 " What do you wish, sir? " he inquired through the 
 grating. 
 
 " That you should open the door, first," uttered M. 
 de Tregars, with such a look and such an accent, that 
 the other obeyed at once. 
 
 " And now," he added, " go and announce me to 
 Mme. Zelie Cadelle."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 379 
 
 " Madame is out," replied the valet. 
 
 And noticing that M. de Tregars shrugged his shoul- 
 ders, 
 
 " Upon my word," he said, " she has gone to the bois 
 with one of her friends. If you won't believe me, ask 
 my comrades there.'' 
 
 And he pointed out two other servants of the same 
 pattern as himself, who were sitting at a table in the 
 carriage-house, playing cards, and drinking. 
 
 But M. de Tregars did not mean to be imposed upon. 
 He felt certain that the man was lying. Instead, there- 
 fore, of discussing, 
 
 " I want y,ou to take me to your mistress," he ordered, 
 in a tone that admitted of no objection ; " or else I'll find 
 my way to her alone." 
 
 It was evident that he would do just as he said, by 
 force if needs be. The valet saw this, and, after hesitat- 
 ing a moment longer, 
 
 " Come along, then," he said, " since you insist so 
 much. We'll talk to the chambermaid." 
 
 And, having led M. de Tregars into the vestibule, he 
 called out, " Mam'selle Amanda ! " 
 
 A woman at once made her appearance who was a 
 worthy mate for the valet. She must have been about 
 forty, and the most alarming duplicity could be read 
 upon her features, deeply pitted by the small-pox. She 
 wore a pretentious dress, an apron like a stage-servant, 
 and a cap profusely decorated with flowers and ribbons. 
 
 " Here is a gentleman," said the valet, " who insists 
 upon seeing madame. You fix it with him." 
 
 Better than her fellow servant, Mile. Amanda could 
 judge with whom she had to deal. A single glance at 
 this obstinate visitor convinced her that he was not one 
 who can be easily turned off.
 
 3&> OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Putting on, therefore, her pleasantest smile, thus dis- 
 playing at the same time her decayed teeth, 
 
 " The fact is that monsieur will very much disturb 
 madame," she observed. 
 
 " I shall excuse myself." 
 
 " But I'll be scolded." 
 
 Instead of answering, M. de Tregars took a couple of 
 twenty-franc-notes out of his pocket, and slipped them 
 into her hand. 
 
 " Please follow me to the parlor, then," she said with 
 a heavy sigh. 
 
 M. de Tregars did so, whilst observing everything 
 around him with the attentive perspicacity of a deputy 
 sheriff preparing to make out an inventory. 
 
 Being double, the house was much more spacious 
 than could have been thought from the street, and ar- 
 ranged with that science of comfort which is the genius 
 of modern architects. 
 
 The most lavish luxury was displayed on all sides; 
 not that solid, quiet, and harmonious luxury which is 
 the result of long years of opulence, but the coarse, 
 loud, and superficial luxury of the parvenu, who is 
 eager to enjoy quick, and to possess all that he has 
 craved from others. 
 
 The vestibule was a folly, with its exotic plants 
 climbing along crystal trellises, and its Sevres and 
 China jardinieres filled with gigantic azaleas. And 
 along the gilt railing of the stairs marble and bronze 
 statuary was intermingled with masses of growing flow- 
 ers. 
 
 " It must take twenty thousand francs a year to keep 
 up this conservatory alone," thought M. de Tregars. 
 
 Meantime the old chambermaid opened a satinwood 
 door with silver lock.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 381 
 
 " That's the parlor," she said. " Take a seat whilst 
 I go and tell madame." 
 
 In this parlor everything had been combined to daz- 
 zle. Furniture, carpets, hangings, every thing, was 
 rich, too rich, furiously, incontestably, obviously rich. 
 The chandelier was a masterpiece, the clock an orig- 
 inal and unique piece of work. The pictures hanging 
 upon the wall were all signed with the most famous 
 names. 
 
 " To judge of the rest by what I have seen," thought 
 M. de Tregars, " there must have been at least four or 
 five hundred thousand francs spent on this house." 
 
 And, although he was shocked by a quantity of de- 
 tails which betrayed the most absolute lack of taste, he 
 could hardly persuade himself that the cashier of the 
 Mutual Credit could be the master of this sumptuous 
 dwelling ; and he was asking himself whether he had not 
 followed the wrong scent, when a circumstance came to 
 put an end to all his doubts. 
 
 Upon the mantlepiece, in a small velvet frame, was 
 Vincent Favoral's portrait. 
 
 M. de Tregars had been seated for a few minutes, 
 and was collecting his somewhat scattered thoughts, 
 when a slight grating sound, and a rustling noise, made 
 him turn around. 
 
 Mme. Zelie Cadelle was coming in. 
 
 She was a woman of some twenty-five or six, rather 
 tall, lithe, and well made. Her face was pale and worn ; 
 and her heavy dark hair was scattered over her neck 
 and shoulders. She looked at once sarcastic and good- 
 natured, impudent and naive, with her sparkling eyes, 
 her turned-up nose, and wide mouth furnished with 
 teeth, sound and white, like those of a young dog. She 
 had wasted no time upon her dress; for she wore a
 
 382 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 plain blue cashmere wrapper, fastened at the waist with 
 a sort of silk scarf of similar color. 
 
 From the very threshold, 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed, " how very singular ! " 
 
 M. de Tregars stepped forward. 
 
 "What?" he inquired. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " she replied," nothing at all ! " 
 
 And without ceasing to look at him with a wondering 
 eye, but suddenly changing her tone of voice, 
 
 " And so, sir," she said, " my servants have been 
 unable to keep you from forcing yourself into my 
 house ! " 
 
 " I hope, madame," said M. de Tregars with a polite 
 bow, " that you will excuse my persistence. I come for 
 a matter which can suffer no delay." 
 
 She was still looking at him obstinately. 
 
 " Who are you ? " she asked. 
 
 " My name will not afford you any information. I 
 am the Marquis de Tregars." 
 
 " Tregars ! " she repeated, looking up at the ceiling, 
 as if in search of an inspiration. " Tregars ! Never 
 heard of it!" 
 
 And throwing herself into an arm chair, 
 
 " Well, sir, what do you wish with me, then ? 
 Speak!" 
 
 He had taken a seat near her, and kept his eyes riv- 
 eted upon hers. 
 
 " I have come, madame," he replied, " to ask you to 
 put me in the way to see and speak to the man whose 
 photograph is there on the mantlepiece." 
 
 He expected to take her by surprise, and that by a 
 shudder, a cry, a gesture, she might betray her secret, 
 Not at all.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 383 
 
 " Are you, then, one of M. Vincent's friends ? " she 
 asked quietly. 
 
 M. de Tregars understood, and this was subsequently 
 confirmed, that it was under his Christian name of Vin- 
 cent alone, that the cashier of the Mutual Credit was 
 known in the Rue du Cirque. 
 
 i " Yes, I am a friend of his," he replied ; " and if I 
 could see him, I could probably render him an import- 
 ant service." 
 
 " Well, you are too late." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because M. Vincent put off more than twenty-four 
 hours since ? " 
 
 "Are you sure of that?" 
 
 " As sure as a person can be who went to the rail- 
 way station yesterday with him and all his baggage." 
 
 " You saw him leave ? " 
 
 " As I see you." 
 
 " Where was he going ? " 
 
 " To Havre, to take the steamer for Brazil, which 
 was to sail on the same day; so that, by this time, he 
 must be awfully seasick." 
 
 " And you really think that it was his intention to go 
 to Brazil?" 
 
 " He said so. It was written on his thirty-six trunks 
 in letters half a foot high. Besides, he showed me his 
 ticket." 
 
 " Have you any idea what could have induced him to 
 expatriate himself thus, at his age? " 
 
 " He told me he had spent all his money, and also 
 some of other people's ; that he was afraid of being ar- 
 rested ; and that he was going yonder to be quiet, and 
 try to make another fortune."
 
 384 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Was Mme. Zelie speaking in good faith ? To ask the 
 question would have been rather naive; but an effort 
 might be made to find out. 
 
 Carefully concealing his own impressions, and the 
 importance he attached to this conversation, 
 
 " I pity you sincerely, madame," resumed M. de 
 Tregars ; " for you must be sorely grieved by this sud' 
 den departure." 
 
 " Me ! " she said in a voice that came from the heart. 
 " I don't care a straw." 
 
 Marquis de Tregars knew well enough the ladies of 
 the class to which he supposed that Mme. Zelie Cadelle 
 must belong, not to be surprised at this frank declara- 
 tion. 
 
 " And yet," he said, " you are indebted to him for 
 the princely magnificence that surrounds you here." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " He being gone, as you say, will you be able to 
 keep up your style of living? " 
 
 Half raising herself from her seat, 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea of doing so," she ex- 
 claimed. " Never in the whole world have I had 
 such a stupid time as for the last five months that I 
 have spent in this gilded cage. What a bore, my be- 
 loved brethren ! I am yawning still at the mere thought 
 of the number of times I have yawned in it." 
 
 M. de Tregars' gesture of surprise was the more nat- 
 ural, that his surprise was immense. 
 
 " You are tired being here ? " he said. 
 
 " To death." 
 
 " And you have only been here five months ? " 
 
 " Dear me, yes ! and by the merest chance, too, you'll 
 see. One day at the beginning of last December, I was 
 coming from but no matter where I was coming: from.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 385 
 
 At any rate, I hadn't a cent in my pocket, and nothing 
 but an old calico dress on my back; and I was going 
 along, not in the best of humor, as you may imagine, 
 when I feel that some one is following me. Without 
 looking around, and from the corner of my eye, I look 
 over my shoulder, and I see a respectable-looking old 
 gentleman, wearing a long frock-coat." 
 
 "M.Vincent?" 
 
 " In his own natural person, and who was walking, 
 walking. I quietly begin to walk slower ; and, as soon 
 as we come to a place where there was hardly any one, 
 he comes up alongside of me." 
 
 Something comical must have happened at this mo- 
 ment, which Mme. Zelie Cadelle said nothing about; 
 for she was laughing most heartily, a frank and sono- 
 rous laughter. 
 
 " Then," she resumed, " he begins at once to explain 
 that I remind him of a person whom he loved tenderly, 
 and whom he has just had the misfortune to lose, 
 adding, that he would deem himself the happiest of 
 men if I would allow him to take care of me, and in- 
 sure me a brilliant position." 
 
 " You see ! That rascally Vincent ! " said M. de 
 Tregars, just to be saying something. 
 
 Mme. Zelie shook her head. 
 
 " You know him," she resumed. " He is not young ; 
 he is not handsome; he is not funny. I did not fancy 
 him one bit; and, if I had only known where to find 
 shelter for the night, I'd soon have sent him to the old 
 Nick, him and his brilliant position. But, not having 
 enough money to buy myself a penny-loaf, it wasn't 
 the time to put on any airs. So I tell him that I accept. 
 He goes for a cab; we get into it; and he brings 
 me right straight here."
 
 386 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Positively M. de Tregars required his entire self- 
 control to conceal the intensity of his curiosity. 
 
 " Was this house,, then, already as it is now ? " he 
 interrogated. 
 
 " Precisely, except that there were no servants in it, 
 except the chambermaid Amanda, who is M. Favoral's 
 confidante. All the others, had been dismissed ; and it 
 was a hostler from a stable near by who came to take 
 care of the horses." 
 
 "And what then?" 
 
 " Then you may imagine what I looked like in the 
 midst of all this magnificence, with my old shoes and 
 my fourpenny skirt. Something like a grease-spot on 
 a satin dress. M. Vincent seemed delighted, neverthe- 
 less. He had sent Amanda out to get me some under- 
 clothing and a ready-made wrapper; and, whilst wait- 
 ing, he took me all through the house, from the cellar 
 to the garret, saying that everything was at my com- 
 mand, and that the next day I would have a battalion 
 of servants to wait on me." 
 
 It was evidently with perfect frankness that she was 
 speaking, and with the pleasure one feels in telling an 
 extraordinary adventure. But suddenly she stopped 
 short, as if discovering that she was forgetting herself, 
 and going farther than was proper. 
 
 And it was only after a moment of reflection that she 
 went on, 
 
 " It was like 'fairyland to me. I had never tasted 
 the opulence of the great, you see, and I had never had 
 any money except that which I earned. So, during 
 the first days, I did nothing but run up and down stairs, 
 admiring everything, feeling everything with my own 
 hands, and looking at myself in the glass to make sure 
 that I was not dreaming. I rang the bell just to make
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 387 
 
 the servants come up ; I spent hours trying dresses ; then 
 I'd have the horses put to the carriage, and either ride to 
 the bois, or go out shopping. M. Vincent gave me as 
 much money as I wanted; and it seemed as though I 
 never spent enough. I shout, I was like a mad woman." 
 
 A cloud appeared upon Mme. Zelie's countenance, 
 and, changing suddenly her tone and her manner, 
 
 " Unfortunately," she went on, " one gets tired of 
 every thing. At the end of two weeks I knew the house 
 from top to bottom, and after a month I was sick of the 
 whole thing; so that one night I began dressing. 
 ' Where do you want to go ? ' Amanda asked me. 
 * Why, to Mabille, to dance a quadrille, or two.' ' Im- 
 possible!' 'Why?' 'Because M. Vincent does not 
 wish you to go out at night.' ' We'll see about that ! ' 
 The next day, I tell all this to M. Vincent ; and he says 
 that Amanda is right ; that it is not proper for a woman 
 in my position to frequent balls ; and that, if I want to 
 go out at night, I can stay. Get out ! I tell you what, 
 if it hadn't been for the fine carriage, and all that, I 
 would have cleared out that minute. Any way, I be- 
 came disgusted from that moment, and have been more 
 and more ever since ; and, if M. Vincent had not him- 
 self left, I certainly would." 
 
 "To go where?" 
 
 " Anywhere. Look here, now ! do you suppose I 
 need a man to support me ! No, thank Heaven ! Little 
 Zelie, here present, has only to apply to any dressmaker, 
 and she'll be glad to give her four francs a day to run 
 the machine. And she'll be free, at least ; and she can 
 laugh and dance as much as she likes." 
 
 M. de Tregars had made a mistake : he had just dis- 
 covered it. 
 
 Mme. Zelie Cadelle was certainly not particularly vir-
 
 3 88 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 tuous ; but she was far from being the woman he ex- 
 pected to meet. 
 
 " At any rate," he said, " you did well to wait pa- 
 tiently." 
 
 " I do not regret it." 
 
 " If you can keep this house " 
 
 She interrupted him with a great burst of laughter. 
 
 " This house ! " she exclaimed. " Why, it was sold 
 long ago, with every thing in it, furniture, horses, car- 
 riages, every thing except me. A young gentleman, very 
 well dressed, bought it for a tall girl, who looks like a 
 goose, and has far over a thousand francs of red hair on 
 her head." 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " 
 
 " Sure as I live, having seen with my own eyes the 
 young swell and his red-headed friend counting heaps 
 of bank-notes to M. Vincent. They are to move in day 
 after to-morrow ; and they have invited me to the house- 
 warming. But no more of it for me, I thank you! I 
 am sick and tired of all these people. And the proof of 
 it is, I am busy packing my things ; and lots of them I 
 have too, dresses, underclothes, jewelry. He was a 
 good-natured fellow, old Vincent was, anyhow. He 
 gave me money enough to buy some furniture. I have 
 hired a small apartment ; and I am going to set up dress- 
 making on my own hook. And won't we laugh then! 
 and won't we have some fun to make up for lost time ! 
 Come, my children, take your places for a quadrille. 
 Forward two ! " 
 
 And, bouncing out of her chair, she began sketching 
 out one of those bold cancan steps which astound the 
 policemen on duty in the ball-rooms. 
 
 " Bravo ! " said M. de Tregars, forcing himself to 
 smile, " bravo ! "
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 389 
 
 He saw clearly now what sort of woman was Mme. 
 Zelie Cadelle; how he should speak to her, and what 
 cords he might yet cause to vibrate within her. He rec- 
 ognized the true daughter of Paris, wayward and ner- 
 vous, who in the midst of her disorders preserves an in- 
 stinctive pride ; who places her independence far above 
 all the money in the world ; who gives, rather than sells, 
 herself ; who knows no law but her caprice, no morality 
 but the policeman, no religion but pleasure. 
 
 As soon as she had returned to her seat, 
 
 " There you are dancing gayly," he said, " and poor 
 Vincent is doubtless groaning at this moment over his 
 separation from you." 
 
 " Ah ! I'd pity him if I had time," she said. 
 
 " He was fond of you ? " 
 
 " Don't speak of it." 
 
 " If he had not been fond of you, he would not have 
 put you here." 
 
 Mme. Zelie made a little face of equivocal meaning. 
 
 " What proof is that ? " she murmured. 
 
 " He would not have spent so much money for you." 
 
 " For me ! " she interrupted, " for me ! What have 
 I cost him of any consequence? Is it for me that he 
 bought, furnished, and fitted out this house ? No, no ! 
 He had the cage ; and he put in the bird, the first he 
 happened to find. He brought me here as he might have 
 brought any other woman, young or old, pretty or ugly, 
 blonde or brunette. As to what I spent here, it was a 
 mere bagatelle compared with what the other did, the 
 one before me. Amanda kept telling me all the time I 
 was a fool. You may believe me, then, when I tell you 
 that M. Vincent will not wet many handkerchiefs with 
 the tears he'll shed over me." 
 
 " But do you know what became of the one before
 
 390 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 you, as you call her, whether she is alive or dead, and 
 owing to what circumstances the cage became empty ? " 
 
 But, instead of answering, Mme. Zelie was fixing 
 upon Marius de Tregars a suspicious glance. And, after 
 a moment only, 
 
 " Why do you ask me that ? " she said. 
 
 " I would like to know." 
 
 She did not permit him to proceed. Rising from her 
 seat, and stepping briskly up to him, 
 
 " Do you belong to the police, by chance ? " she asked 
 in a tone of mistrust. 
 
 If she was anxious, it was evidently because she had 
 motives of anxiety which she had concealed. If, two 
 or three times she had interrupted herself, it was be- 
 cause, manifestly, she had a secret to keep. If the idea 
 of police had come into her mind, it is because, very 
 probably, they had recommended her to be on her guard. 
 
 M. de Tregars understood all this, and, also, that he 
 had tried to go too fast. 
 
 " Do I look like a secret police-agent ? " he asked. 
 
 She was examining him with all her power of penetra- 
 tion. 
 
 " Not at all, I confess/' she replied. " But, if you are 
 not one, how is it that you come to my house, without 
 knowing me from this side of sole leather, to ask me a 
 whole lot of questions, which I am fool enough to an- 
 swer ? " 
 
 " I told you I was a friend of M. Favoral." 
 
 "Who's that Favoral?" 
 
 " That's M. Vincent's real name, madame." 
 
 She opened her eyes wide. 
 
 " You must be mistaken. I never heard him called 
 any thing but Vincent." 
 
 " It is because he had especial motives for concealing
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 391 
 
 his personality. The money he spent here did not belong 
 to him: he took it, he stole it, from the Mutual Credit 
 Company where he was cashier, and where he left a 
 deficit of twelve millions." 
 
 Mme. Zelie stepped back as though she had trodden 
 on a snake. 
 
 " It's impossible ! " she cried. 
 
 " It is the exact truth. Haven't you seen in the pa- 
 pers the case of Vincent Favoral, cashier of the Mutual 
 Credit?" 
 
 And, taking a paper from his pocket, he handed it to 
 the young woman, saying, " Read." 
 
 But she pushed it back, not without a slight blush. 
 
 " Oh, I believe you ! " she said. 
 
 The fact is, and Marius understood it, she did not 
 read very fluently. 
 
 " The worst of M. Vincent Favoral's conduct," he 
 resumed, " is, that, while he was throwing away money 
 here by the handful, he subjected his family to the most 
 cruel privations." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " He refused the necessaries of life to his wife, the 
 best and the worthiest of women ; he never gave a cent 
 to his son; and he deprived his daughter of every 
 thing." 
 
 " Ah, if I could have suspected such a thing ! " mur- 
 mured Mme. Zelie. 
 
 " Finally, and to cap the climax, he has gone, leaving 
 his wife and children literally without bread." 
 
 Transported with indignation, 
 
 " Why, that man must have been a horrible old scoun- 
 drel " exclaimed the young woman. 
 
 This is just the point to which M. de Tregars wished 
 to bring her.
 
 392 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And now," he resumed, " you must understand the 
 enormous interest we have in knowing what has become 
 of him." 
 
 " I have already told you." 
 
 M. de Tregars had risen, in his turn. Taking Mme. 
 Zelie's hands, and fixing upon her one of those acute 
 looks, which search for the truth down to the innermost 
 recesses of the conscience, 
 
 " Come, my dear child," he began in a penetrating 
 voice, " you are a worthy and honest girl. Will you 
 leave in the most frightful despair a family who appeal 
 to your heart? Be sure that no harm will ever happen 
 through us to Vincent Favoral." 
 
 She raised her hand, as they do to take an oath in a 
 court of justice, and, in a solemn tone, 
 
 " I swear," she uttered, " that I went to the station 
 with M. Vincent ; that he assured me that he was going 
 to Brazil ; that he had his passage-ticket ; and that all his 
 baggage was marked, ' Rio de Janeiro.' " 
 
 The disappointment was great: and M. de Tregars 
 manifested it by a gesture. 
 
 " At least," he insisted, " tell me who the woman was 
 whose place you took here." 
 
 But already had the young woman returned to her 
 feeling of mistrust. 
 
 " How in the world do you expect me to know ? " she 
 replied. " Go and ask Amanda. I have no accounts to 
 give you. Besides, I have to go and finish packing my 
 trunks. So good-by, and enjoy yourself." 
 
 And she went out so quick, that she caught Amanda, 
 the chambermaid, kneeling behind the door. 
 
 " So that woman was listening," thought M. de Tre- 
 gars, anxious and dissatisfied.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 393 
 
 But it was in vain that he begged Mme. Zelie to re- 
 turn, and to hear a single word more. She disappeared : 
 and he had to resign himself to leave the house without 
 learning any thing more for the present. 
 
 He had remained there very long ; and he was wonder- 
 ing, as he walked out, whether Maxence had not got 
 tired waiting for him in the little cafe where he had sent 
 him. 
 
 But Maxence had remained faithfully at his post. And 
 when Marius de Tregars came to sit by him, whilst ex- 
 claiming, " Here you are at last ! " he called his attention 
 at the same time with a gesture, and a wink from the 
 corner of his eye, to two men sitting at the adjoining ta- 
 ble before a bowl of punch. 
 
 Certain, now, that M. de Tregars would remain on 
 the lookout, Maxence was knocking on the table with 
 his fist, to call the waiter, who was busy playing billiards 
 with a customer. 
 
 And when he came at last, justly annoyed at being 
 disturbed, 
 
 " Give us two mugs of beer," Maxence ordered, " and 
 bring us a pack of cards." 
 
 M. de Tregars understood very well that something 
 extraordinary had happened ; but, unable to guess what, 
 he leaned over towards his companion. 
 
 " What is it? " he whispered. 
 
 " We must hear what these two men are saying ; and 
 we'll play a game of piquet for a subterfuge." 
 
 The waiter returned, bringing two glasses of a muddy 
 liquid, a piece of cloth, the color of which was concealed 
 under a layer of dirt, and a pack of cards horribly soft 
 and greasy. 
 
 " My deal," said Maxence.
 
 394 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And he began shuffling, and giving the cards, whilst 
 M. de Tregars was examining the punch-drinkers at the 
 next table. 
 
 In one of the two, a man still young, wearing a striped 
 vest with alpaca sleeves, he thought he recognized one 
 of the rascally-looking fellows he had caught a glimpse 
 of in Mme. Zelie Cadelle's carriage-house. 
 
 The other, an old man, whose inflamed complexion 
 and blossoming nose betrayed old habits of drunken- 
 ness, looked very much like a coachman out of place. 
 Baseness and duplicity bloomed upon his countenance ; 
 and the brightness of his small eyes rendered still more 
 alarming the slyly obsequious smile that was stereotyped 
 upon his thin and pale lips. 
 
 They were so completely absorbed in their conversa- 
 tion, that they paid no attention whatever to what was 
 going on around them. 
 
 " Then," the old one was saying, " it's all over." 
 
 " Entirely. The house is sold." 
 
 "And the boss?" 
 
 " Gone to America." 
 
 " What ! Suddenly, that way ? " 
 
 " No. We supposed he was going on some journey, 
 because, every day since the beginning of the week, they 
 were bringing in trunks and boxes ; but no one knew ex- 
 actly when he would go. Now, in the night of Saturday 
 to Sunday, he drops in the house like a bombshell, wakes 
 up everybody, and says he must leave immediately. At 
 once we harness up, we load the baggage up, we drive 
 him to the Western Railway Station, and good-by, Vin- 
 cent!" 
 
 " And the young lady ? " 
 
 " She's got to get out in the next twenty-four hours ;
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 395 
 
 but she don't seem to mind it one bit. The fact is we are 
 the ones who grieve the most, after all." 
 - "Is it possible?" 
 
 " It is so. She was a good girl ; and we won't soon 
 find one like her." 
 
 The old man seemed distressed. 
 
 " Bad luck ! " he growled. " I would have liked that 
 house myself." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say you would ! " 
 
 " And there is no way to get in ? " 
 
 " Can't tell. It will be well to see the others, those who 
 have bought. But I mistrust them : they look too stupid 
 not to be mean." 
 
 Listening intently to the conversation of these two 
 men, it was mechanically and at random that M. de Tre- 
 gars and Maxence threw their cards on the table, and 
 uttered the common terms of the game of piquet, 
 
 " Five cards ! Tierce, major ! Three aces." 
 
 Meantime the old man was going on, 
 
 " Who knows but what M. Vincent may come back ? " 
 
 " No danger of that ! " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 The other looked carefully around, and, seeing only 
 two players absorbed in their game, 
 
 " Because," he replied, " M. Vincent is completely 
 ruined, it seems. He spent all his money, and a good 
 deal of other people's money besides. Amanda, the 
 chambermaid, told me ; and I guess she knows." 
 
 " You thought he was so rich ! " 
 
 " He was. But no matter how big a bag is: if you 
 keep taking out of it, you must get to the bottom." 
 
 " Then he spent a great deal ? " 
 
 " It's incredible ! I have been in extravagant houses ;
 
 396 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 but nowhere have I ever seen money fly as it has during 
 the five months that I have been in that house. A regu- 
 lar pillage ! Everybody helped themselves ; and what was 
 not in the house, they could get from the tradespeople, 
 have it charged on the bill ; and it was all paid without a 
 word." 
 
 " Then, yes, indeed, the money must have gone pretty 
 lively," said the old one in a convinced tone. 
 
 " Well," replied the other, " that was nothing yet. 
 Amanda the chambermaid, who has been in the house 
 fifteen years, told us some stories that would make you 
 jump. She was not much for spending, Zelie; but some 
 of the others, it seems " 
 
 It required the greatest effort on the part of Max- 
 ence and M. de Tregars not to play, but only to pre- 
 tend to play, and to continue to count imaginary points, 
 " One, two, three, four." 
 
 Fortunately the coachman with the red nose seemed 
 much interested. 
 
 "What others?" he asked. 
 
 " That I don't know any thing about," replied the 
 younger valet. " But you may imagine that there must 
 have been more than one in that little house during the 
 many years that M. Vincent owned it, a man who 
 hadn't his equal for women, and who was worth mil- 
 lions." 
 
 " And what was his business ? " 
 
 " Don't know that, either." 
 
 " What ! there were ten of you in the bouse, and you 
 didn't know the profession of the man who paid you 
 all?" 
 
 " We were all new." 
 
 " The chambermaid, Amanda, must have known."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 397 
 
 " When she was asked, she said that he was a mer- 
 chant. One thing is sure, he was a queer old chap." 
 
 So interested was the old coachman, that, seeing the 
 punch-bowl empty, he called for another. His comrade 
 could not fail to show his appreciation of such polite- 
 ness. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " he went on, " old Vincent was an ec- 
 centric fellow; and never, to see him, could you have 
 suspected that he cut up such capers, and that he threw 
 money away by the handful." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Imagine a man about fifty years old, stiff as a post, 
 with a face about as pleasant as a prison-gate. That's 
 the boss! Summer and winter, he wore laced shoes, 
 blue stockings, gray pantaloons that were too short, a 
 cotton necktie, and a frock-coat that came down 
 to his ankles. In the street, you would have taken 
 him for a hosier who had retired before his fortune was 
 made." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " 
 
 " No, never have I seen a man look so much like an 
 old miser. You think, perhaps, that he came in a car- 
 riage. Not a bit of it ! He came in the omnibus, my 
 boy, and outside too, for three sous ; and when it rained 
 he opened his umbrella. But the moment he had crossed 
 the threshold of the house, presto, pass ! complete change 
 of scene. The miser became pacha. He took off his 
 old duds, put on a blue velvet robe ; and then there was 
 nothing handsome enough, nothing good enough, noth- 
 ing expensive enough for him. And, when he had acted 
 the my lord to his heart's content, he put on his old traps 
 again, resumed his prison-gate face, climbed up on top 
 of the omnibus, and went off as he came."
 
 398 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And you were not surprised, all of you, at such a 
 life?" 
 
 " Very much so." 
 
 " And you did not think that these singular whims 
 must conceal something? " 
 
 "Oh, but we did!" 
 
 " And you didn't try to find out what that something 
 was?" 
 
 "How could we?" 
 
 " Was it very difficult to follow your boss, and ascer- 
 tain where he went, after leaving the house ? " 
 
 " Certainly not; but what then? " 
 
 " Why," he replied, " you would have found out his 
 secret in the end ; and then you would have gone to him 
 and told him, ' Give me so much, or I peach.' " 
 
 V. 
 
 THIS story of M. Vincent, as told by these two honest 
 companions, was something like the vulgar legend of 
 other people's money, so eagerly craved, and so madly 
 dissipated. Easily-gotten wealth is easily gotten rid of. 
 Stolen money has fatal tendencies, and turns irresistibly 
 to gambling, horse- jockeys, fast women, all the ruinous 
 fancies, all the unwholesome gratifications. 
 
 They are rare indeed, among the daring cut-throats 
 of speculation, those to whom their ill-gotten gain 
 proves of real service, so rare, that they are pointed 
 out, and are as easily numbered as the girls who leap 
 some night from the street to a ten-thousand-franc 
 apartment, and manage to remain there. 
 
 Seized with the intoxication of sudden wealth, they
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 399 
 
 lose all measure and all prudence. Whether they believe 
 their luck inexhaustible, or fear a sudden turn of for- 
 tune, they make haste to enjoy themselves, and they fill 
 the noted restaurants, the leading cafes, the theatres, the 
 clubs, the race-courses, with their impudent personality, 
 the clash of their voice, the extravagance of their mis- 
 tresses, the noise of their expenses, and the absurdity of 
 their vanity. And they go on and on, lavishing other 
 people's money, until the fatal hour of one of those dis- 
 astrous liquidations which terrify the courts and the ex- 
 change, and cause pallid faces and a gnashing of teeth 
 in the " street," until the moment when they have the 
 choice between a pistol-shot, which they never choose, 
 the criminal court, which they do their best to avoid, 
 and a trip abroad. 
 
 What becomes of them afterwards? To what gut- 
 ters do they tumble from fall to fall? Does any one 
 know what becomes of the women who disappear sud- 
 denly after two or three years of follies and of splen- 
 dors? 
 
 But it happens sometimes, as you step out of a car- 
 riage in front of some theatre, that you wonder where 
 you have already seen the face of the wretched beggar 
 who opens the door for you, and in a husky voice claims 
 his two sous. You saw him at the Cafe Riche, during 
 the six months that he was a big financier. 
 
 Some other time you may catch, in the crowd, 
 snatches of a strange conversation between two crapu- 
 lous rascals. 
 
 " It was at the time," says one, " when I drove that 
 bright chestnut team that I had bought for twenty thou- 
 sand francs of the eldest son of the Duke de Ser- 
 meuse." 
 
 " I remember," replies the other ; " for at that mo-
 
 400 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ment I gave six thousand francs a month to little Cabri- 
 ole of the Varieties." 
 
 And, improbable as this may seem, it is the exact 
 truth ; for one was manager of a manufacturing enter- 
 prise that sank ten millions; and the other was at the 
 head of a financial operation that ruined five hundred 
 families. They had a house like the one in the Rue du 
 Cirque, mistresses more expensive than Mme. Zelie 
 Cadelle, and servants like those who were now talking 
 within a step of Maxence and Marius de Tregars. The 
 latter had resumed their conversation; and the oldest 
 one, the coachman with the red nose, was saying to his 
 younger comrade, 
 
 " This Vincent affair must be a lesson to you. If ever 
 you find yourself again in a house where so much 
 money is spent, remember that it hasn't cost much 
 trouble to make it, and manage somehow to get as big 
 a share of it as you can." 
 
 " That's what I've always done wherever I have 
 been." 
 
 " And, above all, make haste to fill your bag, because, 
 you see, in houses like that, one is never sure, one day, 
 whether, the next, the gentleman will not be at Mazas, 
 and the lady at St. Lazares." 
 
 They had done their second bowl of punch, and 
 finished their conversation. They paid, and left. 
 
 And Maxence and M. de Tregars were able, at last, 
 to throw down their cards. 
 
 Maxence was very pale; and big tears were rolling 
 down his cheeks. 
 
 " What disgrace ! " he murmured. " This, then, is 
 the other side of my father's existence ! This is the way 
 in which he spent the millions which he stole ; whilst, in
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 401 
 
 the Rue St. Gilles. he deprived his family of the neces- 
 saries of life ! " 
 
 And, in a tone of utter discouragement, 
 
 " Now it is indeed all over, and it is useless to con- 
 tinue our search. My father is certainly guilty.'' 
 
 But M. de Tregars was not the man thus to give up 
 tfie game. 
 
 " Guilty? Yes," he said, " but dupe also." 
 
 "Whose dupe?" 
 
 " That's what we'll find out, you may depend upon 
 it." 
 
 " What ! after what we have just heard? " 
 
 " I have more hope than ever." 
 
 " Did you learn any thing from Mme. Zelie Cadelle, 
 then?" " 
 
 " Nothing more than you know by those two rascals' 
 conversation." 
 
 A dozen questions were pressing upon Maxence's 
 lips; but M. de Tregars interrupted him. 
 
 " In this case, my friend, less than ever must we trust 
 appearances. Let me speak. Was your father a simple- 
 ton? No! His ability to dissimulate, for years, his 
 double existence, proves, on the contrary, a wonderful 
 amount of duplicity. How is it, then, that latterly his 
 conduct has been so extraordinary and so absurd? But 
 you will doubtless say it was always such. In that case, 
 I answer you, No; for then his secret could not have 
 been kept for a year. We hear that other women lived 
 in that house before Mme. Zelie Cadelle. But who were 
 they ? What has become of them ? Is there any certainty 
 that they have ever existed ? Nothing proves it. 
 
 " The servants having been all changed, Amanda, the 
 chambermaid, is the only one who knows the truth ; and
 
 402 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 she will be very careful to say nothing about it. There- 
 fore, all our positive information goes back no farther 
 than five months. And what do we hear? Tint your 
 father seemed to try and make his extravagant ex- 
 penditures as conspicuous as possible. That he did not 
 even take the trouble to conceal the source of the money 
 he spent so profusely; for he told Mme. Zelie that he 
 was at the end of his tether, and that, after having 
 spent his own fortune, he was spending other people's 
 money. He had announced his intended departure; he 
 had sold the house, and received its price. Finally, at 
 the last moment, what does he do ? 
 
 " Instead of going off quietly and secretly, like a 
 man who is running away, and who knows that he is 
 pursued, he tells every one where he intends to go; he 
 writes it on all his trunks, in letters half a foot high; 
 and then rides in great display to the railway station, 
 with a woman, several carriages, servants, etc. What is 
 the object of all this? To get caught? No, but to start 
 a false scent. Therefore, in his mind, every thing must 
 have been arranged in advance, and the catastrophe was 
 far from taking him by surprise; therefore the scene 
 with M. de Thaller must have been prepared ; there- 
 fore, it must have been on purpose that he left his pock- 
 etbook behind, with the bill in it that was to lead us 
 straight here ; therefore all we have seen is but a trans- 
 parent comedy, got up for our special benefit, and in- 
 tended to cover up the truth, and mislead the law." 
 
 But Maxence was not entirely convinced. 
 
 " Still," he remarked, " those enormous expenses'." 
 
 M. de Tregars shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Have you any idea," he said, " what display can be 
 made with a million? Let us admit that your father
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 403 
 
 has spent two, four millions even. The loss of the Mu- 
 tual Credit is twelve millions. What has become of 
 the other eight?" 
 
 And, as Maxence made no answer, 
 
 " It is those eight millions," he added, " that I want, 
 and that I shall have. It is in Paris that your father 
 is hid, I feel certain. We must find him ; and we must 
 make him tell the truth, which I already more than sus- 
 pect." 
 
 Whereupon, throwing on the table the pint of beer 
 which he had not drunk, he walked out of the cafe with 
 Maxence. 
 
 " Here you are at last ! " exclaimed the coachman, 
 who had been waiting at the corner for over three hours, 
 a prey to the utmost anxiety. 
 
 But M. de Tregars had no time for explanations ; and, 
 pushing Maxence into the cab, he jumped in after him, 
 crying to the coachman, 
 
 " 24 Rue Joquelet. Five francs extra for yourself.*' 
 
 A driver who expects an extra five francs, always has, 
 for five minutes at least, a horse as fast as Gladiateur. 
 
 Whilst the cab was speeding on to its destination, 
 
 " What is most important for us now," said M. de 
 Tregars to Maxence, " is to ascertain how far the Mu- 
 tual Credit crisis has progressed ; and M. Latterman of 
 the Rue Joquelet is the man in all Paris who can best in- 
 form us." 
 
 Whoever has made or lost five hundred francs at the 
 bourse knows M. Latterman, who, since the war, calls 
 himself an Alsatian and curses with a fearful accent 
 those " parparous Broossians." This worthy speculator 
 modestly calls himself a money-changer; but he would 
 be a simpleton who should ask him for change : and it is
 
 404 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 certainly not that sort of business which gives him the 
 three hundred thousand francs' profits which he pockets 
 every year. 
 
 When a company has failed, when it has been wound 
 up, and the defrauded stockholders have received two or 
 three per cent in all on their original investment, there 
 is a prevailing idea that the certificates of its stocks are 
 no longer good for any thing, except to light the fire. 
 That's a mistake. Long after the company has foun- 
 dered, its snares float, like the shattered debris which the 
 sea casts upon the beach months after the ship has been 
 wrecked. These shares M. Latterman collects, and care- 
 fully stores away ; and upon the shelves of his office you 
 may see numberless shares and bonds of those numer- 
 ous companies which have absorbed, in the past twenty 
 years, according to some statistics, twelve hundred mil- 
 lions, and, according to others, two thousand millions, 
 of the public fortune. 
 
 Say but a word, and his clerks will offer you some 
 " Franco-American Company," some " Steam Naviga- 
 tion Company of Marseilles," some " Coal and Metal 
 Company of the Asturias/' some " Transcontinental 
 Memphis and El Paso" (of the United States), some 
 " Caumart Slate Works," and hundreds of others, 
 which, for the general public, have no value, save that 
 of old paper, that is from three to five cents a pound. 
 And yet speculators are found who buy and sell these 
 rags. 
 
 In an obscure corner of the bourse may be seen a mis- 
 cellaneous population of old men with pointed beards, 
 and overdressed young men, who deal in every thing 
 salable, and other things besides. There are found for- 
 eign merchants, who will offer you, stocks of merchan- 
 dise, goods from auction, good claims to recover, and
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 405 
 
 who at last will take out of their pockets an opera-glass, 
 a Geneva watch (smuggled in), a revolver, or a bottle 
 of patent hair-restorer. 
 
 Such is the market to which drift those shares which 
 were once issued to represent millions, and which now 
 represent nothing but a palpable proof of the audacity 
 of swindlers, and the credulity of their dupes. And 
 there are actually buyers for these shares, and they go 
 up or down, according to the ordinary laws of supply 
 and demand ; for there is a demand for them, and here 
 comes in the usefulness of M. Latterman's business. 
 
 Does a tradesman, on the eve of declaring himself 
 bankrupt, wish to defraud his creditors of a part of his 
 assets, to conceal excessive expenses, or cover up some 
 embezzlement, at once he goes to the Rue Joquelet, pro- 
 cures a select assortment of " Cantonal Credit," " Ross- 
 dorff Mines," or " Maumusson Salt Works," and puts 
 them carefully away in his safe. 
 
 And, when the receiver arrives, 
 
 " There are my assets," he says. " I have there some 
 twenty, fifty, or a hundred thousand francs of stocks, 
 the whole of which is not worth five francs to-day ; but 
 it isn't my fault. I thought it a good investment; and 
 I didn't sell, because I always thought the price would 
 come up again." 
 
 And he gets his discharge, because it would really be 
 too cruel to punish a man because he has made unfor- 
 tunate investments. 
 
 Better than any one, M. Latterman knows for what 
 purpose are purchased the valueless securities which he 
 sells ; and he actually advises his customers which to 
 take in preference, in order that their purchase at the 
 time of their issue may appear more natural, and more 
 likely. Nevertheless, he claims to be a perfectly honest
 
 406 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 man, and declares that he is no more responsible for the 
 swindles that are committed by means of his stocks than 
 a gunsmith for a murder committed with a gun that he 
 has sold. 
 
 " But he will surely be able to tell us all about the 
 Mutual Credit," repeated Maxence to M. de Tregars. 
 
 Four o'clock struck when the carriage stopped in the 
 Rue Joquelet. The bourse had just closed; and a few 
 groups were still standing in the square, or along the 
 railings. 
 
 " I hope we shall find this Latterman at home," said 
 Maxence. 
 
 They started up the stairs (for it is up on the second 
 floor that this worthy operator has his offices) ; and, hav- 
 ing inquired, 
 
 " M. Latterman is engaged with a customer," an- 
 swered a clerk. " Please sit down and wait." 
 
 M. Latterman's office was like all other caverns of 
 the same kind. A very narrow space was reserved to 
 the public; and all around, behind a heavy wire screen, 
 the clerks could be seen busy with figures, or handling 
 coupons. On the right, over a small window, appeared 
 the word, " CASHIER." A small door on the left led to 
 the private office. 
 
 M. de Tregars and Maxence had patiently taken a 
 seat on a hard leather bench, once red; and they were 
 listening and looking on. 
 
 There was considerable animation about the place. 
 Every few minutes, well-dressed young men came in 
 with a hurried and important look, and, taking out of 
 their pocket a memorandum-book, they would speak a 
 few sentences of that peculiar dialect, bristling with 
 figures, which is the language of the bourse. At the 
 end of fifteen or twenty minutes,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 407 
 
 " Will M. Latterman be engaged much longer? " in- 
 quired M. de Tregars. 
 
 " I do not know," replied a clerk. 
 
 At that very moment, the little door on the left 
 opened, and the customer came out who had detained 
 M. Latterman so long. This customer was no other 
 than M. Costeclar. Noticing M. de Tregars and Max- 
 ence, who had risen at the noise of the door, he appeared 
 most disagreeably surprised. He even turned slightly 
 pale, and took a step backwards, as if intending to re- 
 turn precipitately into the room that he was leaving; 
 for M. Latterman's office, like that of all other large 
 operators, had several doors, without counting the one 
 that leads to the police-court. But M. de Tregars gave 
 him no time to effect this retreat. Stepping suddenly 
 forward, 
 
 " Well ? '' he asked him in a tone that was almost 
 threatening. 
 
 The brilliant financier had condescended to take off 
 his hat, usually riveted upon his head, and, with the 
 smile of a knave caught in the act, 
 
 " I did not expect to meet you here, my lord-mar- 
 quis," he said. 
 
 At the title of " marquis," everybody looked up. 
 
 " I believe you, indeed," said M. de Tregars. " But 
 what I want to know is, how is the matter progress- 
 ing?" 
 
 " The plot is thickening. Justice is acting." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " It is a fact. Jules Jottras, of the house of Jottras 
 and Brother, was arrested this morning, just as he ar- 
 rived at the bourse." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because, it seems, he was an accomplice of Favoral",
 
 408 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and it was he who sold the bonds stolen from the Mu- 
 tual Credit." 
 
 Maxence had started at the mention of his father's 
 name; but, with a significant glance, M. de Tregars 
 bid him remain silent, and, in a sarcastic tone, 
 
 " Famous capture ! " he murmured. " And which 
 proves the clear-sightedness of justice." 
 
 " But this is not all," resumed M. Costeclar. " Saint 
 Pavin, the editor of ' The Financial Pilot,' you know, is 
 thought to be seriously compromised. There was a 
 rumor, at the close of the market, that a warrant either 
 had been, or was about to be, issued against him." 
 
 "And the Baron de Thaller? " 
 
 The employes of the office could not help admiring 
 M. Costeclar's extraordinary amount of patience. 
 
 " The baron," he replied, " made his appearance at 
 the bourse this afternoon, and was the object of a verit- 
 able ovation.'' 
 
 " That is admirable ! And what did he say ? " 
 
 " That the damage was already repaired." 
 
 " Then the shares of the Mutual Credit must have 
 advanced." 
 
 " Unfortunately, not. They did not go above one 
 hundred and ten francs." 
 
 "Were you not astonished at that?" 
 
 " Not much, because, you see, I am a business-man, 
 I am ; and I know pretty well how things work. When 
 they left M. de Thaller this morning, the stockholders 
 of the Mutual Credit had a meeting; and they pledged 
 themselves, upon honor, not to sell, so as not to break 
 the market. As soon as they had separated, each one 
 said to himself, ' Since the others are going to keep their 
 stock, like fools, I am going to sell mine.' Now, as
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 409 
 
 there were three or four hundred of them who argued 
 in the same way, the market was flooded with shares.'' 
 
 Looking the brilliant financier straight in the eyes, 
 
 " And yourself? " interrupted M. de Tregars. 
 
 " I ! " stammered M. Costeclar, so visibly agitated, 
 that the clerks could not help laughing. 
 
 " Yes. I wish to know if you have been more faithful 
 to your word than the stockholders of whom you are 
 speaking, and whether you have done as we had 
 agreed." 
 
 " Certainly ; and, if you find me here " 
 
 But M. de Tregars, placing his own hand over his 
 shoulder, stopped him short. 
 
 " I think I know what brought you here," he uttered ; 
 " and in a few moments I shall have ascertained." 
 
 " I swear to you." 
 
 " Don't swear. If I am mistaken, so much the better 
 for you. If I am not mistaken, I'll prove to you that it 
 is dangerous to try any sharp game on me, though I am 
 not a business-man." 
 
 Meantime M. Latterman, seeing no customer coming 
 to take the place of the one who had left, became im- 
 patient at last, and appeared upon the threshold of his 
 private office. 
 
 He was a man still young, small, thick-set, and vul- 
 gar. At the first glance, nothing of him could be seen 
 but his abdomen, a big, great, and ponderous ab- 
 domen, seat of his thoughts, and tabernacle of his 
 aspirations, over which dangled a double gold chain, 
 loaded with trinkets. Above an apoplectic neck, red as 
 that of a turkey-cock, stood his little head, covered with 
 coarse red hair, cut very short. He wore a heavy beard, 
 trimmed in the form of a fan. His large, full-moon face
 
 410 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 was divided in two by a nose as flat as a Kalmuck's, and 
 illuminated by two small eyes, in which could be read the 
 most thorough duplicity. 
 
 Seeing M. de Tregars and M. Costeclar engaged in 
 conversation, 
 
 " Why ! you know each other ? " he said. 
 
 M. de Tregars advanced a step, 
 
 " We are even intimate friends," he replied. " And 
 it is very lucky that we should have met. I am brought 
 here by the same matter as our dear Costeclar; and I 
 was just explaining to him that he has been too hasty, 
 and that it would be best to wait three or four days 
 longer." 
 
 " That's just what I told him/' echoed the honorable 
 financier. 
 
 Maxence understood only one thing, that M. de 
 Tregars had penetrated M. Costeclar's designs ; and he 
 could not sufficiently admire his presence of mind, and 
 his skill in grasping an unexpected opportunity. 
 
 " Fortunately there is nothing done yet," added M. 
 Latterman. 
 
 " And it is yet time to alter what has been agreed on," 
 said M. de Tregars. And, addressing himself to Cos- 
 teclar, 
 
 " Come," he added, " we'll fix things with M. Latter- 
 man." 
 
 But the other, who remembered the scene in the Rue 
 St. Gilles, and who had his own reasons to be alarmed, 
 would sooner have jumped out of the window. 
 
 " I am expected,'' he stammered. " Arrange matters 
 without me." 
 
 " Then you give me carte blanche f " 
 
 Ah, if the brilliant financier had dared ! But he felt
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 4!! 
 
 riveted upon him such threatening eyes, that he dared 
 not even make a gesture of denial. 
 
 " Whatever you do will be satisfactory," he said in 
 the tone of a man who sees himself lost. 
 
 And, as he was going out of the door, M. de Tregars 
 stepped into M. Latterman's private office. He remained 
 only five minutes ; and when he joined Maxence, whom 
 he had begged to wait for him, 
 
 " I think that we have got them," he said as they 
 walked off. 
 
 Their next visit was to M. Saint Pavin, at the office 
 of " The Financial Pilot." Every one must have seen 
 at least one copy of that paper with, its ingenious vig- 
 nette, representing a bold mariner steering a boat, filled 
 with timid passengers, towards the harbor of Million, 
 over a stormy sea, bristling with the rocks of failure and 
 the shoals of ruin. The office of " The Pilot '' is, in fact, 
 less a newspaper office than a sort of general business 
 agency. 
 
 As at M. Latterman's, there are clerks scribbling be- 
 hind wire screens, small windows, a cashier, and an im- 
 mense blackboard, on which the latest quotations of the 
 Rente, and other French and foreign securities, are 
 written in chalk. 
 
 As " The Pilot " spends some hundred thousand francs 
 a year in advertising, in order to obtain subscribers ; as, 
 on the other hand, it only costs three francs a year, it 
 is clear that it is not on its subscriptions that it realizes 
 any profits. It has other sources of income : its broker- 
 ages first; for it buys, sells, and executes, as the pros- 
 pectus says, all orders for stocks, bonds, or other secur- 
 ities, for the best interests of the client. And it has 
 plenty of business.
 
 412 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 To the opulent brokerages, must be added advertising 
 and puffing, another mine. Six times out of ten, when 
 a new enterprise is set on foot, the organizers send for 
 Saint Pavin. Honest men, or knaves, they must all pass 
 through his hands. They know it, and are resigned in 
 advance. 
 
 " We rely upon you," they say to him. 
 
 " What advantages have you to offer ? " he replies. 
 
 Then they discuss the operation, the expected profits 
 of the new company, and M. Saint Pavin's demands. 
 For a hundred thousand francs he promises bursts of 
 lyrism; for fifty thousand he will be enthusiastic only. 
 Twenty thousand francs will secure a moderate praise 
 of the affair ; ten thousand, a friendly neutrality. 
 
 And, if the said company refuses any advantages to 
 " The Pilot " 
 
 " Ah, you must beware ! " says Saint Pavin. 
 
 And from the very next number he commences his 
 campaign. He is moderate at first, and leaves a door 
 open for his retreat. He puts forth doubts only. He 
 does not know much about it. " It may be an excellent 
 thing; it may be a wretched one: the safest is to wait 
 and see." 
 
 That's the first hint. If it remains without result, he 
 takes up his pen again, and makes his doubts more 
 pointed. 
 
 He knows how to steer clear of libel suits, how to 
 handle figures so as to demonstrate, according to the 
 requirements of the case, that two and two make three, 
 or make five. It is seldom, that, before the third article, 
 the company does not surrender at discretion. 
 
 All Paris knows him; and he has many friends. 
 When M. de Tregars and Maxence arrived, they found 
 the office full of people speculators, brokers, go-be-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 413 
 
 tweens come there to discuss the fluctuations of the 
 day and the probabilities of the evening market. 
 
 " M. Saint Pavin is engaged," one of the clerks told 
 them. 
 
 Indeed, his coarse voice could be distinctly heard be- 
 hind the screen. Soon he appeared, showing out an old 
 gentleman, who seemed utterly confused at the scene, 
 and to whom he was screaming, 
 
 fl No, sir, no ! ' The Financial Pilot ' does not take 
 that sort of business ; and I find you very bold to come 
 and propose to me a twopenny rascality." But, noticing 
 Maxence, 
 
 " M. Favoral ! " he said. " By Jove ! it is your good 
 star that has brought you here. Come into the private 
 office, my dear sir: come, we'll have some fun now.'"' 
 
 Many of the people who were in the office had a 
 word to say to M. Saint Pavin, some advice to ask him, 
 an order to transmit, or some news to communicate. 
 They had all stepped forward, and were holding out 
 their hands with a friendly smile. He set them aside 
 with his usual rudeness. 
 
 " By and by. I am busy now : leave me alone." 
 
 And pushing Maxence towards the office-door, which 
 he had just opened, 
 
 " Come in, come in ! " he said in a tone of extraor- 
 dinary impatience. 
 
 But M. de Tregars was coming in too ; and, as he did 
 not know him, 
 
 " What do you want, you ? " he asked roughly. 
 
 " The gentleman is my best friend," said Maxence, 
 turning to him ; " and I have no secret from him." 
 
 " Let him walk in, then ; but, by Heaven, let us 
 hurry!" 
 
 Once very sumptuous, the private office of the editor
 
 414 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 of " The Financial Pilot " had fallen into a state of sor- 
 did dilapidation. If the janitor had received orders 
 never to use a broom or a duster there, he obeyed them 
 strictly. Disorder and dirt reigned supreme. Papers and 
 manuscripts lay in all directions ; and on the broad sofas 
 the mud from the boots of all those who had lounged 
 upon them had been drying for months. On the mantel- 
 piece, in the midst of some half-dozen dirty glasses, 
 stood a bottle of Madeira, half empty. Finally, before 
 the fireplace, on the carpet, and along the furniture, 
 cigar and cigarette stumps were heaped in profusion. 
 
 As soon as he had bolted the door, coming straight to 
 Maxence, 
 
 "What has become of your father?" inquired M. 
 Saint Pavin rudely. 
 
 Maxence started. That was the last question he ex- 
 pected to hear. 
 
 " I do not know," he replied. 
 
 The manager of " The Pilot " shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " That you should say so to the commissary of police, 
 to the judges, and to all Favoral's enemies, I under- 
 stand : it is your duty. That they should believe you, I 
 understand too ; for, after all, what do they care ? But 
 to me, a friend, though you may not think so, and who 
 has reasons not to be credulous " 
 
 " I swear to you that we have no idea where he has 
 taken refuge." 
 
 Maxence said this with such an accent of sincerity, 
 that doubt was no longer possible. M. Saint Pavin's 
 features expressed the utmost surprise. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, " your father has gone with- 
 out securing the means of hearing from his family?" 
 
 "Yes."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 415 
 
 " Without saying a word of his intentions to your 
 mother, or your sister, or yourself ? " 
 
 " Without one word.'" 
 
 " Without leaving any money, perhaps ? " 
 
 " We found only an insignificant sum after he left." 
 
 The editor of " The Pilot " made a gesture of ironical 
 admiration. " Well, the thing is complete," he said ; 
 " and Vincent is a smarter fellow than I gave him 
 credit for; or else he must have cared more for those 
 infernal women of his than any one supposed." 
 
 M. de Tregars, who had remained hitherto silent, now 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " What women ? " he asked. 
 
 " How do I know ? '' he replied roughly. " How 
 could any one ever find out any thing about a man who 
 was more hermetically shut up in his coat than a Jesuit 
 in his gown ? " 
 
 "M. Costeclar" 
 
 " That's another nice bird ! Still he may possibly have 
 discovered something of Vincent's life ; for he led him 
 a pretty dance. Wasn't he about to marry Mile. Favoral 
 once?" 
 
 " Yes, in spite of herself even." 
 
 " Then you are right : he had discovered something. 
 But, if you rely on him to tell you anything whatever, 
 you are reckoning without your host." 
 
 " Who knows ? " murmured M. de Tregars. 
 
 But M. Saint Pavin heard him not. Prey to a violent 
 agitation, he was pacing up and down the room. 
 
 " Ah, those men of cold appearance," he growled, 
 " those men with discreet countenance, those close-shav- 
 ing calculators, those moralists! What fools they do 
 make of themselves when once started! Who can im-
 
 416 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 agine to what insane extremities this one may have 
 been driven under the spur of some mad passion ! " 
 
 And stamping violently his foot upon the carpet, from 
 which arose clouds of dust, 
 
 " And yet," he swore, " I must find him. And, by 
 thunder ! wherever he may be hid, I shall find him." 
 
 M. de Tregars was watching M. Saint Pavin with a 
 scrutinizing eye. 
 
 " You have a great interest in finding him, then ? " he 
 said. 
 
 The other stopped short. 
 
 " I have the interest/ 1 he replied, " of a man who 
 thought himself shrewd, and who has been taken in like 
 a child, of a man to whom they had promised wonders, 
 and who finds his situation imperilled, of a man who 
 is tired of working for a band of brigands who heap 
 millions upon millions, and to whom, for all reward, they 
 offer the police-court and a retreat in the State Prison 
 for his old age, in a word, the interests of a man who 
 will and shall have revenge, by all that is holy ! " 
 
 "On whom?" 
 
 " On the Baron de Thaller, sir ! How, in the world, 
 has he been able to compel Favoral to assume the re- 
 sponsibility of all, and to disappear? What enormous 
 sum has he given to him ? " 
 
 " Sir," interrupted Maxence, " my father went off 
 without a sou." 
 
 M. Saint Pavin burst out in a loud laugh. 
 
 " And the twelve millions ? '' he asked. " What has 
 become of them? Do you suppose they have been dis- 
 tributed in deeds of charity ? " 
 
 And without waiting for any further objections, 
 
 " And yet," he went on, " it is not with money alone
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 417 
 
 that a man can be induced to disgrace himself, to con- 
 fess himself a thief and a forger, to brave the galleys, 
 to give up everything, country, family, friends. Evi- 
 dently the Baron de Thaller must have had other means 
 of action, some hold on Favoral " 
 
 M. de Tregars interrupted him. 
 
 " You speak," he said, " as if you were absolutely cer- 
 tain of M. de Thaller's complicity." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Why don't you inform on him, then ? " 
 
 The editor of " The Pilot " started back. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, " draw the fingers of the law 
 into my own business ! You don't think of it ! Besides, 
 what good would that do me ? I have no proofs of my 
 allegations. Do you suppose that Thaller has not taken 
 his precautions, and tied my hands? No, no! without 
 Favoral there is nothing to be done." 
 
 " Do you suppose, then, that you could induce him 
 to surrender himself ? " 
 
 " No, but to furnish me the proofs I need, to send 
 Thaller where they have already sent that poor Jottras." 
 
 And, becoming more and more excited, 
 
 " But it is not in a month that I should want those 
 proofs," he went on, " nor even in two weeks, but to- 
 morrow, but at this very moment. Before the end of the 
 week, Thaller will have wound up the operation, real- 
 ized, Heaven knows how many millions, and put every 
 thing in such nice order, that justice, who in financial 
 matters is not of the first capacity, will discover nothing 
 wrong. If he can do that, he is safe, he is beyond reach, 
 and will be dubbed a first-class financier. Then to what 
 may he not aspire ! Already he talks of having himself 
 elected deputy; and he says everywhere that he has
 
 418 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 found, to marry his daughter, a gentleman who bears 
 one of the oldest names in France, the Marquis de 
 Tregars." 
 
 " Why, this is the Marquis de Tregars ! *' exclaimed 
 Maxence, pointing to Marius. 
 
 For the first time, M. Saint Pavin took the trouble to 
 examine his visitor ; and he, who knew life too well not 
 to be a judge of men, he seemed surprised. 
 
 " Please excuse me, sir," he uttered with a politeness 
 very different from his usual manner, " and permit me 
 to ask you if you know the reasons why M. de Thaller 
 is so prodigiously anxious to have you for a son-in-law." 
 
 " I think," replied M. de Tregars coldly, " that M. 
 de Thaller would not be sorry to deprive me of the right 
 to seek the causes of my father's ruin." 
 
 But he was interrupted by a great noise of voices in 
 the adjoining room; and almost at once there was a 
 loud knock at the door, and a voice called, 
 
 " In the name of the law ! " 
 
 The editor of " The Pilot " had become whiter than 
 his shirt. 
 
 " That's what I was afraid of," he said. " Thaller has 
 got ahead of me ; and perhaps I may be lost." 
 
 Meantime he did not lose his wits. Quick as thought 
 he took out of a drawer a package of letters, threw 
 them into the fireplace, and set fire to them, saying, in 
 a voice made hoarse by emotion and anger, 
 
 " No one shall come in until they are burnt." 
 
 But it required an incredibly long time to make them 
 catch fire; and M. Saint Pavin, kneeling before the 
 hearth, was stirring them up, and scattering them, to 
 make them burn faster. 
 
 " And now," said M. de Tregars, " will you hesi-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 419 
 
 tate to deliver up the Baron de Thaller into the hands of 
 justice?" 
 
 He turned around with flashing eyes. 
 
 " Now," he replied, " if I wish to save myself, I must 
 save him too. Don't you understand that he holds me ? " 
 
 And, seeing that the last sheets of his correspondence 
 were consumed, 
 
 " You may open now," he said to Maxence. 
 
 Maxence obeyed; and a commissary of police, wear- 
 ing his scarf of office, rushed into the room ; whilst his 
 men, not without difficulty, kept back the crowd in the 
 outer office, 
 
 The commissary, who was an old hand, and had per- 
 haps been on a hundred expeditions of this kind, had 
 surveyed the scene at a glance. Noticing in the fire- 
 place the carbonized debris, upon which still fluttered an 
 expiring flame, 
 
 " That's the reason, then," he said, " why you were 
 so long opening the door ? " 
 
 A sarcastic smile appeared upon the lips of the editor 
 of " The Pilot." 
 
 " Private matters," he replied ; " women's letters." 
 
 " This will be moral evidence against you, sir." 
 
 " I prefer it to material evidence." 
 
 Without condescending to notice the impertinence, 
 the commissary was casting a suspicious glance on Max- 
 ence and M. de Tregars. 
 
 " Who are these gentlemen who were closeted with 
 you? " he asked. 
 
 " Visitors, sir. This is M. Favoral." 
 
 " The son of the cashier of the Mutual Credit? " 
 
 " Exactly ; and this gentleman is the Marquis de Tre< 
 gars."
 
 420 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 '* You should have opened the door when you heard 
 a knocking in the name of the law," grumbled the com- 
 missary. 
 
 But he did not insist. Taking a paper from his pocket, 
 he opened it, and, handing it to M. Saint Pavin, 
 
 " I have orders to arrest you," he said. " Here is the 
 warrant." 
 
 With a careless gesture, the other pushed it back. 
 
 "What's the use of reading?" he said. "When I 
 heard of the arrest of that poor Jottras, I guessed at 
 once what was in store for me. It is about the Mutual 
 Credit swindle, I imagine." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " I have no more to do with it than yourself, sir ; and 
 I shall have very little trouble in proving it. But that is 
 not your business. And you are going, I suppose, to put 
 the seals on my papers ? " 
 
 " Except on those that you have burnt." 
 
 M. Saint Pavin burst out laughing. He had recov- 
 ered his coolness and his impudence, and seemed as 
 much at ease as if it were the most natural thing in the 
 world. 
 
 " Shall I be allowed to speak to my clerks," he asked, 
 " and to give them my instructions ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the commissary, " but in my pres- 
 ence." 
 
 The clerks, being called, appeared, consternation de- 
 picted upon their countenances, but joy sparkling in 
 their eyes. In reality they were delighted at the mis- 
 fortune which befell their employer. 
 
 " You see what happens to me, my boys," he said. 
 " But don't be uneasy. In less than forty-eight hours, 
 the error of which I am the victim will be recognized,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 421 
 
 and I shall be liberated on bail. At any rate, I can rely 
 upon you, can't I ? " 
 
 They all swore that they would be more attentive and 
 more zealous than ever. 
 
 And then addressing himself to his cashier, who was 
 his confidential and right-hand man, 
 
 " As to you, Bernard," he said, " you will run to M. 
 de Thaller's, and advise him of what's going on. Let him 
 have funds ready; for all our depositors will want to 
 draw out their money at once. You will then call at the 
 printing-office: have my article on the Mutual Credit 
 kept out, and insert in its place some financial news cut 
 out from other papers. Above all, don't mention my ar- 
 rest, unless M. de Thaller should demand it. Go ahead, 
 and let ' The Pilot ' appear as usual : that's important." 
 
 He had, whilst speaking, lighted a cigar. The honest 
 man, victim of human iniquity, has not a firmer and 
 more tranquil countenance. 
 
 " Justice does not know/' he said to the commissary, 
 who was fumbling in all the drawers of the desk, " what 
 irreparable damage she may cause by arresting so hastily 
 a man who has charge of immense interests like me. It 
 is the fortune of ten or twelve small capitalists that is 
 put in jeopardy." 
 
 Already the witnesses of the arrest had retired, one 
 by one, to go and scatter the news along the Boulevard, 
 and also to see what could be made out of it; for, at 
 the bourse, news is money. 
 
 M. de Tregars and Maxence left also. As they passed 
 the door, 
 
 " Don't you say any thing about what I told you," M. 
 S-*int Pavin recommended to them. 
 
 M. de Tregars made no answer. He had the con-
 
 422 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 tracted features and tightly-drawn lips of a man who is 
 maturing a grave determination, which, once taken will 
 be irrevocable. 
 
 Once in the street, and when Maxence had opened 
 the carriage-door, 
 
 " We are going to separate here," he told him in that 
 brief tone of voice which reveals a settled plan. " I 
 know enough now to venture to call at M. de Thaller's. 
 There only shall I be able to see how to strike the de- 
 cisive blow. Return to the Rue St. Gilles, and relieve 
 your mother's and sister's anxiety. You shall see me 
 during the evening, I promise you." 
 
 And, without waiting for an answer, he jumped into 
 the cab, which started off. 
 
 But it was not to the Rue St. Gilles that Maxence 
 went. He was anxious, first, to see Mile. Lucienne, to 
 tell her the events of that day, the busiest of his exist- 
 ence ; to tell her his discoveries, his surprises, his anxi- 
 eties, and his hopes. 
 
 To his great surprise, he failed to find her at the Hotel 
 des Folies. She had gone riding at three o'clock, M. 
 Fortin told him, and had not yet returned ; but she could 
 not be much longer, as it was already getting dark. 
 Maxence went out again then, to see if he could not meet 
 her. He had walked a little way along the Boulevard, 
 when, at some distance off, on the Place du Chateau 
 d'Eau, he thought he noticed an unusual bustle. Almost 
 immediately he heard shouts of terror. Frightened peo- 
 ple were running in all directions ; and right before him 
 a carriage, going at full gallop, passed like a flash. 
 
 But, quick as it had passed, he had time to recognize 
 Mile. Lucienne, pale, and clinging desperately to the 
 seat. Wild with fear, he started after it as fast as he 
 could run. It was clear that the driver had no control
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 423 
 
 over his horses. A policeman who tried to stop them was 
 knocked down. Ten steps farther, the hind-wheel of the 
 carriage, catching the wheel of a heavy wagon, broke to 
 splinters ; and Mile. Lucienne was thrown into the street, 
 whilst the driver fell over on the sidewalk. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE Baron de Thaller was too practical a man to 
 live in the same house, or even in the same district, 
 where his offices were located. To dwell in the midst 
 of his business; to be constantly subjected to the con- 
 tact of his employes, to the unkindly comments of a 
 crowd of subordinates ; to expose himself to hourly an- 
 noyances, to sickening solicitations, to the reclamations 
 and eternal complaints of his stockholders and his cli- 
 ents! Pouah! He'd have given up the business first. 
 And so, on the very days when he had established the 
 offices of the Mutual Credit in the Rue de Quatre-Sep- 
 tembre, he had purchased a house in the Rue de la 
 Pepiniere, within a step of the Faubourg St. Honore. 
 
 It was a brand-new house, which had never yet been 
 occupied, and which had just been erected by a con- 
 tractor who was almost celebrated, towards 1866, at the 
 moment of the great transformations of Paris, when 
 whole blocks were levelled to the ground, and rose again 
 so rapidly, that one might well wonder whether the ma- 
 sons, instead of a trowel, did not make use of a magi- 
 cian's wand. 
 
 This contractor, named Parcimieux, had come from 
 the Limousin in 1860, with his carpenter's tools for all 
 fortune, and, in less than six years, had accumulated, 
 at the lowest estimate, six millions of francs. Only he
 
 424 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 was a modest man, and took as much pains to conceal 
 his fortune, and offend no one, as most parvenus do to 
 display their wealth, and insult the public. 
 
 Though he could hardly sign his name, yet he knew 
 and practised the maxim of the Greek philosopher, 
 which is, perhaps, the true secret of happiness, hide 
 thy life. And there were no expedients to which he did 
 not resort to hide it. At the time of his greatest pros- 
 perity, for instance, having need of a carriage, he had 
 applied to the manager of the Petites Voitures Company, 
 and had had built for himself two cabs, outwardly simi- 
 lar in every respect to those used by the company, but 
 within, most luxuriously upholstered, and drawn by 
 horses of common appearance, but who could go their 
 twenty-five miles in two hours any day. And these he 
 had hired by the year. 
 
 Having his carriage, the worthy builder determined 
 to have, also, his house, his own house, built by himself. 
 But this required infinitely greater precautions still. 
 
 " For, as you may imagine," he explained to his 
 friends, " a man does not make as much money as I 
 have, without also making many cruel, bitter, and ir- 
 reconcilable enemies. I have against me all the builders 
 who have not succeeded, all the sub-contractors I em- 
 ploy, and who say that I speculate on their poverty, and 
 the thousands of workmen who work for me, and swear 
 that I grind them down to the dust. Already they call 
 me brigand, slaver, thief, leech. What would it be, if 
 they saw me living in a beautiful house of my own? 
 They'd swear that I could not possibly have got so rich 
 honestly, and that I must have committed some crimes. 
 Besides, to build me a handsome house on the street 
 would be, in case of a mob, setting up windows for the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 425 
 
 stones of all the rascals who have been in my employ- 
 ment." 
 
 Such were M. Parcimieux's thoughts, when, as he ex- 
 pressed it, he resolved to build. 
 
 A lot was for sale in the Rue de la Pepiniere. He 
 bought it, and at the same time purchased the adjoining 
 house, which he immediately caused to be torn down. 
 This operation placed in his possession a vast piece of 
 ground, not very wide, but of great depth, stretching, 
 as it did, back to the Rue Labaume. At once work was 
 begun according to a plan which his architect and him- 
 self had spent six months in maturing. On the line of 
 the street arose a house of the most modest appearance, 
 two stories in height only, with a very high and very 
 wide carriage-door for the passage of vehicles. This was 
 to deceive the vulgar eye, the outside of the cab, as it 
 were. Behind this house, between a spacious court and a 
 vast garden was built the residence of which M. Parci- 
 mieux had dreamed; and it really was an exceptional 
 building both by the excellence of the materials used, 
 and by the infinite care which presided over the minutest 
 details. The marbles for the vestibule and the stairs 
 were brought from Africa, Italy, and Corsica. He sent 
 to Rome for workmen for the mosaics. The joiner and 
 locksmithing work was intrusted to real artists. 
 
 Repeating to every one that he was working for a 
 great foreign lord, whose orders he went to take every 
 morning, he was free to indulge his most extravagant 
 fancies, without fearing jests or unpleasant remarks. 
 
 Poor old man ! The day when the last workman had 
 driven in the last nail, an attack of apoplexy carried him 
 off, without giving him time to say, " Oh ! " Two days 
 after, all his relatives from the Limousin were swooping
 
 426 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 into Paris like a pack of wolves. Six millions to divide : 
 what a godsend! Litigation followed, as a matter of 
 course ; and the house was offered for sale under a judg- 
 ment. 
 
 M. de Thaller bought it for two hundred and seventy- 
 five thousand francs, about one-third what it had cost 
 to build. 
 
 A month later he had moved into it ; and the expenses 
 which he incurred to furnish it in a style worthy of the 
 building itself was the talk of the town. And yet he was 
 not fully satisfied with his purchase. 
 
 Unlike M. Parcimieux, he had no wish whatever to 
 conceal his wealth. 
 
 What ! he owned one of those exquisite houses which 
 excite at once the wonder and the envy of passers-by, 
 and that house was hid behind such a common-looking 
 building ! 
 
 " I must have that shanty pulled down," he said from 
 time to time. 
 
 And then he thought of something else; and the 
 " shanty " was still standing on that evening, when, 
 after leaving Maxence, M. de Tregars presented him- 
 self at M. de Thaller's. 
 
 The servants had, doubtless, received their instruc- 
 tions ; for, as soon as Marius emerged from the porch 
 of the front-house, the porter advanced from his lodge, 
 bent double, his mouth open to his very ears by the most 
 obsequious smile. 
 
 Without waiting for a question, 
 
 " The baron has not yet come home," he said. " But 
 he cannot be much longer away; and certainly the 
 baroness is at home for my lord-marquis. Please, then, 
 give yourself the trouble to pass/' 
 
 And, standing aside, he struck upon the enormous
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 427 
 
 gong that stood near his lodge a single sharp blow, in- 
 tended to wake up the footman on duty in the vestibule, 
 and to announce a visitor of note. Slowly, but not with- 
 out quietly observing every thing, M. de Tregars 
 crossed the courtyard, covered with fine sand, they 
 would have powdered it with golden dust, if they had 
 dared, and surrounded on all sides with bronze bas- 
 kets, in which beautiful rhododendrons were blossom- 
 ing. 
 
 It was nearly six o'clock. The manager of the Mutual 
 Credit dined at seven ; and the preparations for this im- 
 portant event were everywhere apparent. Through the 
 large windows of the dining-room the steward could be 
 seen presiding over the setting of the table. The butler 
 was coming up from the cellar, loaded with bottles. 
 Finally, through the apertures of the basement arose 
 the appetizing perfumes of the kitchen. 
 
 What enormous business it required to support such 
 a style, to display this luxury, which would shame one 
 of those German princelings, who exchanged the crown 
 of their ancestors for a Prussian livery gilded with 
 French gold ! other people's money. 
 
 Meantime, the blow struck by the porter on the gong 
 had produced the desired effect; and the gates of the 
 vestibule seemed to open of their own accord before M. 
 de Tregars as he ascended the stoop. 
 
 This vestibule with the splendor of which Mile. Lu- 
 cienne had been so deeply impressed, would, indeed, have 
 been worthy the attention of an artist, had it been al- 
 lowed to retain the simple grandeur and the severe 
 harmony which M. Parcimieux's architect had imparted 
 to it. 
 
 But M. de Thaller, as he was proud of boasting, had 
 a perfect horror of simplicity ; and, wherever he discov-
 
 428 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ered a vacant space as big as his hand, he hung a picture 
 a bronze, or a piece of china, any thing and anyhow. 
 
 The two footmen were standing when M. de Tre- 
 gars came in. Without asking any question, " Will M. 
 le Marquis please follow me ? " said the youngest. 
 
 And, opening the broad glass doors, he began walk- 
 ing in front of M. de Tregars, along a staircase with 
 marble railing, the elegant proportions of which were 
 absolutely ruined by a ridiculous profusion of " objects 
 of art " of all nature, and from all sources. This stair- 
 case led to a vast semicircular landing, upon which, 
 between columns of precious marble, opened three wide 
 doors. The footman opened the middle one, which led 
 to M. de Thaller's picture-gallery, a celebrated one in 
 the financial world, and which had acquired for him the 
 reputation of an enlightened amateur. 
 
 But M. de Tregars had no time to examine this 
 gallery, which, moreover, he already knew well enough. 
 The footman showed him into the small drawing-room 
 of the baroness, a bijou of a room, furnished in gilt and 
 crimson satin. 
 
 " Will M. le Marquis be kind enough to take a seat ? " 
 he said. " I run to notify Mme. le Baronne of M. le 
 Marquis's visit." 
 
 The footman uttered these titles of nobility with a 
 singular pomp, and as if some of their lustre was re- 
 flected upon himself. Nevertheless, it was evident that 
 " Marquis " jingled to his ear much more pleasantly 
 than " Baronne." 
 
 Remaining alone, M. de Tregars threw himself upon 
 a seat. Worn out by the emotions of the day, and by an 
 extraordinary contention of mind, he felt thankful for 
 this moment of respite, which permitted him, at the mo-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 429 
 
 ment of a decisive step, to collect all his energy and al} 
 his presence of mind. 
 
 And after two minutes he was so deeply absorbed in 
 his thoughts, that he started, like a man suddenly 
 aroused from his sleep, at the sound of an opening door. 
 At the same moment he heard a slight exclamation of 
 surprise, "Ah!" 
 
 Instead of the Baroness de Thaller, it was her daugh- 
 ter, Mile. Cesarine, who had come in. 
 
 Stepping forward to the centre of the room, and ac- 
 knowledging by a familiar gesture M. de Tregars' most 
 respectful bow, 
 
 " You should warn people," she said. " I came here 
 to look for my mother, and it is you I find. Why, you 
 scared me to death. What a crack ! Princess dear ! " 
 
 And taking the young man's hand, and pressing it 
 to her breast, 
 
 " Feel," she added, " how my heart beats." 
 
 Younger than Mile. Gilberte, Mile. Cesarine de 
 Thaller had a reputation for beauty so thoroughly es- 
 tablished, that to call it in question would have seemed 
 a crime to her numerous admirers. And really she was 
 a handsome person. Rather tall and well made, she had 
 broad hips, the waist round and supple as a steel rod, 
 and a magnificent throat. Her neck was, perhaps, a little 
 too thick and too short; but upon her robust shoulders 
 was scattered in wild ringlets the rebellious hair that 
 escaped from her comb. She was a blonde, but of that 
 reddish blonde, almost as dark as mahogany, which Ti- 
 tian admired, and which the handsome Venetians ob- 
 tained by means of rather repulsive practices, and by ex- 
 posing themselves to the noonday sun on the terraces of 
 their palaces. Her complexion had the gilded hues of
 
 430 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 amber. Her lips, red as blood, displayed as they opened, 
 teeth of dazzling whiteness. In her large prominent 
 eyes, of a milky blue, like the Northern skies, laughed 
 the eternal irony of a soul that no longer has faith in 
 any thing. More anxious of her fame than of good 
 taste, she wore a dress of doubtful shade, puffed up by 
 means of an extravagant pannier, and buttoned ob- 
 liquely across the chest, according to that ridiculous and 
 ungraceful style invented by flat or humped women. 
 
 Throwing herself upon a chair, and placing cavalierly 
 one foot upon another, so as to display her leg, which 
 was admirable, 
 
 " Do you know that it's perfectly stunning to see you 
 here ? " she said to M. de Tregars. " Just imagine, for a 
 moment, what a face the Baron Three Francs Sixty- 
 eight will make when he sees you ! " 
 
 It was her father whom she called thus, since the day 
 when she had discovered that there was a German coin 
 called thaler, which represents three francs and sixty- 
 eight centimes in 'French currency. 
 
 " You know, I suppose," she went on, " that papa has 
 just been badly stuck ? " 
 
 M. de Tregars was excusing himself in vague terms ; 
 but it was one of Mile. Cesarine's habits never to listen 
 to the answers which were made to her questions. 
 
 " Favoral," she continued, " papa's cashier, has just 
 started on an international picnic. Did you know him ? " 
 
 " Very little." 
 
 " An old fellow, always dressed like a country sexton, 
 and with a face like an undertaker. And the Baron 
 Three Francs Sixty-eight, an old bird, was fool enough 
 to be taken in by him! For he was taken in. He had 
 a face like a man whose chimney is on fire, when he
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 431 
 
 came to tell us, mamma and myself, that Favoral had 
 gone off with twelve millions." 
 
 " And has he really carried off that enormous sum ? " 
 " Not entire, of course, betause it was not since day 
 before yesterday only that he began digging into the 
 Mutual Credit's pile. There were years that this venera- 
 ble old swell was leading a somewhat variegated ex- 
 istence, in company with rather funny ladies, you 
 know. And as he was not exactly calculated to be 
 adored at par, why, it cost papa's stockholders a pretty 
 lively premium. But, anyhow, he must have carried off 
 a handsome nugget." 
 
 And, bouncing to the piano, she began an accompani- 
 ment loud enough to crack the window-panes, singing at 
 the same time the popular refrain of the " Young La- 
 dies of Pautin : " 
 
 " Cashier, you've got the bag ; 
 Quick on your little nag, 
 And then, ho, ho, for Belgium ! " 
 
 Any one but Marius de Tregars would have been 
 doubtless strangely surprised at Mile, de Thaller's man- 
 ners. But he had known her for some time already : he 
 was familiar with her past life, her habits, her tastes, and 
 her pretensions. Until the age of fifteen, Mile. Cesarine 
 had remained shut up in one of those pleasant Parisian 
 boarding-schools, where young ladies are initiated into 
 the great art of the toilet, and from which they emerge 
 armed with the gayest theories, knowing how to see 
 without seeming to look, and to lie boldly without blush- 
 ing; in a word, ripe for society. The directress of the 
 boarding-school, a lady of the ton, who had met with re- 
 verses, and who was a good deal more of a dressmaker
 
 432 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 than a teacher, said of Mile. Cesarine, who paid her 
 three thousand five hundred francs a year, 
 
 " She gives the greatest hopes for the future ; and I 
 shall certainly make a superior woman of her." 
 
 But the opportunity was not allowed her. The Baron- 
 ess de Thaller discovered, one morning, that it was im- 
 possible for her to live without her daughter, and that 
 her maternal heart was lacerated by a separation which 
 was against the sacred laws of nature. She took her 
 home, therefore, declaring that nothing, henceforth, not 
 even her marriage, should separate them, and that she 
 should finish herself the education of the dear child. 
 From that moment, in fact, whoever saw the Baroness 
 de Thaller would also see Mile. Cesarine following in 
 her wake. 
 
 A girl of fifteen, discreet and well-trained, is a con- 
 venient chaperon ; a chaperon which enables a woman to 
 show herself boldly where she might not have dared to 
 venture alone. In presence of a mother followed by her 
 daughter, disconcerted slander hesitates, and dares not 
 speak. 
 
 Under the pretext that Cesarine was still but a child, 
 and of no consequence, Mme. de Thaller dragged her 
 everywhere, to the bois and to the races, visiting and 
 shopping, to balls and parties, to the watering-places and 
 the seashore, to the restaurant, and to all the " first 
 nights " at the Palais Royal, the Bouffes, the Varietes, 
 and the Delassements. It was, therefore, especially at 
 the theatre, that the education of Mile, de Thaller, so 
 happily commenced, had received the finishing touch. At 
 sixteen she was thoroughly familiar with the repertoire 
 of the genre theatres, imitated Schneider far better than 
 ever did Silly, and sang with surprising intonations and
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 433 
 
 astonishing gestures Blanche d'Autigny's successful 
 moods, and Theresa's most wanton verses. 
 
 Between times, she studied the fashion papers, and 
 formed her style in reading the " Vie Parisienne," whose 
 most enigmatic articles had no allusions sufficiently ob- 
 scure to escape her penetration. 
 
 She learned to ride on horseback, to fence and to 
 shoot, and distinguished herself at pigeon-matches. She 
 kept a betting-book, played Trent e et Quarante at Mo- 
 naco ; and Baccarat had no secrets for her. At Trouville 
 she astonished the natives with the startling novelty of 
 her bathing-costumes ; and, when she found herself the 
 centre of a reasonable circle of lookers-on, she threw 
 herself in the water with a pluck that drew upon her the 
 applause of the bathing-masters. She could smoke a 
 cigarette, empty nearly a glass of champagne ; and once 
 her mother was obliged to bring her home, and put her 
 quick to bed, because she had insisted upon trying absin- 
 the, and her conversation had become somewhat too 
 eccentric. 
 
 Leading such a life, it was difficult that public opinion 
 should always spare Mme. and Mile, de Thaller. There 
 were sceptics who insinuated that this steadfast friend- 
 ship between mother and daughter had very much the 
 appearance of the association of two women bound to- 
 gether by the complicity of a common secret. A broker 
 told how, one evening, or one night rather, for it was 
 nearly two o'clock, happening to pass in front of the 
 Moulin-Rouge, he had seen the Baroness and Mile. 
 Cesarine coming out, accompanied by a gentleman, to 
 him unknown, but who, he was quite sure, was not the 
 Baron de Thaller. 
 
 A certain journey which mother and daughter had un-
 
 434 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 dertaken in the heart of the winter, and which had lasted 
 not less than two months, had been generally attributed 
 to an imprudence, the consequences of which it had be- 
 come impossible to conceal. They had been in Italy, they 
 said when they returned; but no one had seen them 
 there. Yet, as Mme. and Mile, de Thaller's mode of life 
 was, after all, the same as that of a great many women 
 who passed for being perfectly proper, as there was no 
 positive or palpable fact brought against them, as no 
 name was mentioned, many people shrugged their shoul- 
 ders, and replied, 
 
 " Pure slanders." 
 
 And why not, since the Baron de Thaller, the most in- 
 terested party, held himself satisfied ? 
 
 To the ill-advised friends who ventured some allusions 
 to the public rumors, he replied, according to his hu- 
 mor, 
 
 " My daughter can play the mischief generally, if she 
 sees fit. As I shall give a dowry of a million, she will al- 
 ways find a husband." 
 
 Or else, " And what of it ? Do not American young 
 ladies enjoyed unlimited freedom? Are they not con- 
 stantly seen going out with young gentlemen, or walk- 
 ing or travelling alone ? Are they, for all that, less virtu- 
 ous than our girls, who are kept under such close watch ? 
 Do they make less faithful wives, or less excellent moth- 
 ers? Hypocrisy is not virtue." 
 
 To a certain extent, the Manager of the Mutual 
 Credit was right. 
 
 Already Mile, de Thaller had had to decide upon sev- 
 eral quite suitable offers of marriage. She had squarely 
 refused them all. 
 
 " A husband ! " she had answered each time. " Thank 
 you, none for me, I have good enough teeth to eat up
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 435 
 
 my dowry myself. Later, we'll see, when I've cut my 
 wisdom teeth, and I am tired of my bachelor life." 
 
 She did not seem near getting tired of it, though she 
 pretended that she had no more illusions, was thor- 
 oughly blasee, had exhausted every sensation, and that 
 life henceforth had no surprise in reserve for her. Her 
 reception of M. de Tregars was, therefore, one of Mile. 
 Cesarine's least eccentricities, as was also that sudden 
 fancy to apply to the situation one of the most idiotic 
 rondos of her repertoires: 
 
 1 Cashier, you've got the bag ; 
 Quick on your little nag." 
 
 Neither did she spare him a single verse; and, when 
 she stopped, 
 
 " I see with pleasure," said M. de Tregars, " that the 
 embezzlement of which your father has just been the 
 victim does not in any way offend your good humor." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Would you have me cry," she said, " because the 
 stockholders of the Baron Three Francs Sixty-eight 
 have been swindled? Console yourself: they are ac- 
 customed to it" 
 
 And, as M. de Tregars made no answer, 
 
 " And in all that," she went on, " I see no one to pity 
 except the wife and daughter of that old stick Favoral." 
 
 " They are, indeed, much to be pitied." 
 
 " They say that the mother is a good old thing." 
 
 " She is an excellent person." 
 
 " And the daughter ? Costeclar was crazy about her 
 once. He made eyes like a carp in love, as he told us, 
 to mamma and myself, ' She is an angel, mesdames, an 
 angel! And when I have given her a little chic! ' Now 
 tell me, is she really as good looking as all that ? "
 
 436 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " She is quite good looking." 
 
 " Better looking than me? " 
 
 " It is not the same style, mademoiselle." 
 
 Mile, de Thaller had stopped singing; but she hat* 
 not left the piano. Half turned towards M. de Tregars, 
 she ran her fingers listlessly over the keys, striking a 
 note here and there, as if to punctuate her sentences. 
 
 " Ah, how nice ! " she exclaimed, " and, above all, 
 how gallant ! Really, if you venture often on such dec- 
 larations, mothers would be very wrong to trust you 
 alone with their daughters." 
 
 " You did not understand me right, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Perfectly right, on the contrary. I asked you if I 
 was better looking than Mile. Favoral ; and you replied 
 to me, that it was not the same style/' 
 
 " It is because, mademoiselle, there is indeed no possi- 
 ble comparison between you, who are a wealthy heiress, 
 and whose life is a perpetual enchantment, and a poor 
 girl, very humble, and very modest, who rides in the 
 omnibus, and who makes her dresses herself." 
 A contemptuous smile contracted Mlle.Cesarine's lips. 
 
 " Why not ? " she interrupted. " Men have such funny 
 tastes ! " 
 
 And, turning around suddenly, she began another 
 rondo, no less famous than the first, and borrowed, this 
 time, from the third act of the Petites-Blanchisseuses: 
 
 " What matters the quality ? 
 
 Beauty alone takes the prize: 
 Women before man must rise, 
 And claim perfect equality." 
 
 Very attentively M. de Tregars was observing her. 
 He had not been the dupe of the great surprise she had 
 manifested when she found him in the little parlor.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 437 
 
 " She knew I was here," he thought ; " and it is her 
 mother who has sent her to me. But why ? and for what 
 purpose? " 
 
 " With all that/' she resumed, " I see the sweet Mme. 
 Favoral and her modest daughter in a terribly tight 
 place. What a ' bust,' marquis ! " 
 
 " They have a great deal of courage, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Naturally. But, what is better, the daughter has a 
 splendid voice : at least, so her professor told Costeclar. 
 Why should she not go on the stage? Actresses make 
 lots of money, you know. Papa'll help her, if she 
 wishes. He has a great deal of influence in the theatres, 
 papa has." 
 
 " Mme. and Mile. Favoral have friends." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! Costeclar." 
 
 " Others besides." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; but it seems to me that this one 
 will do to begin with. He is gallant, Costeclar, ex- 
 tremely gallant, and, moreover, generous as a lord. Why 
 should he not offer to that youthful and timid damsel a 
 nice little position in mahogany and rosewood? That 
 way, we should have the pleasure of meeting her around 
 the lake." 
 
 And she began singing again, with a slight varia- 
 tion : 
 
 " Manon, who, before the war, 
 Carried clothes for a living, 
 Now for her gains is trusting 
 To that insane Costeclar." 
 
 " Ah, that big red-headed girl is terribly provoking ! " 
 thought M. de Tregars. 
 
 But, as he did not as yet understand very clearly what 
 she wished to come to, he kept on his guard, and re- 
 mained cold as marble.
 
 438 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Already she had again turned towards him. 
 
 " What a face you are making ! " she said. " Are you 
 jealous of the fiery Costeclar, by chance? " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle, no ! " 
 
 " Then, why don't you want him to succeed in his 
 love? But he will, you'll see! Five hundred francs on 
 Costeclar! Do you take it? No? I am sorry. It's 
 twenty-five napoleons lost for me. I know very well 
 that Mile. what's her name ? " 
 
 " Gilberte." 
 
 " Halloo ! a nice name for a cashier's daughter ! I 
 am aware that she once sent that poor Costeclar and his 
 offer to Chaillot. But she had resources then; whilst 
 now It's stupid as it can be ; but people have to eat ! " 
 
 " There are still women, mademoiselle, capable of 
 starving to death." 
 
 M. de Tregars now felt satisfied. It seemed evident 
 to him that they had somehow got wind of his inten- 
 tions; that Mile, de Thaller had been sent to feel the 
 ground; and that she only attacked Mile. Gilberte in 
 order to irritate him, and compel him, in a moment of 
 anger, to declare himself. 
 
 " Bash ! " she said, " Mile. Favoral is like all the oth- 
 ers. If she had to select between the amiable Costeclar 
 and a charcoal furnace, it is not the furnace she would 
 take." 
 
 At all times, Marius de Tregars disliked Mile. Cesar- 
 ine to a supreme degree; but at this moment, without 
 the pressing desire he had to see the Baron and Baroness 
 de Thaller, he would have withdrawn. 
 
 " Believe me, mademoiselle/' he uttered coldly. 
 " Spare a poor girl stricken by a most cruel misfortune. 
 Worse might happen to you."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 439 
 
 " To me ! And what the mischief do you suppose can 
 happen me ? " 
 
 "Who knows?" 
 
 She started to her feet so violently, that she upset the 
 piano-stool. 
 
 " Whatever it may be," she exclaimed, " I say in ad- 
 vance, I am glad ! " 
 
 And as M. de Tregars turned his head in some sur- 
 prise, 
 
 " Yes, I am glad ! " she repeated, " because it would 
 be a change ; and I am sick of the life I lead. Yes, sick 
 to be eternally and invariably happy of that same dreary 
 happiness. And to think that there are idiots who be- 
 lieve that I amuse myself, and who envy my fate! To 
 think, that, when I ride through the streets, I hear girls 
 exclaim, whilst looking at me, ' Isn't she lucky ? ' Little 
 fools ! I'd like to see them in my place. They live, they 
 do. Their pleasures are not all alike. They have anxi- 
 eties and hopes, ups and downs, hours of rain and hours 
 of sunshine ; whilst I always dead calm ! the barometer 
 always at ' Set fair.' What a bore ! Do you know whaf 
 I did to-day ? Exactly the same thing as yesterday ; and 
 to-morrow I'll do the same thing as to-day. 
 
 " A good dinner is a good thing ; but always the same 
 dinner, without extras or additions pouah ! Too many 
 truffles. I want some corned beef and cabbage. I know 
 the bill of fare by heart, you see. In winter, theatres and 
 balls ; in summer, races and the seashore ; summer and 
 winter, shopping, rides to the bois, calls, trying dresses, 
 perpetual adoration by mother's friends, all of them 
 brilliant and gallant fellows to whom the mere thought 
 of my dowry gives the jaundice. Excuse me, if I yawn : 
 I am thinking of their conversations.
 
 440 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " And to think," she went on, " that such will be my 
 existence until I make up my mind to take a husband ! 
 For I'll have to come to it too. The Baron Three Sixty- 
 eight will present to me some sort of a swell, attracted by 
 my money. I'll answer, ' I'd just as soon have him as 
 any other ; ' and he will be admitted to the honor of pay- 
 ing his attentions to me. Every morning he will send 
 me a splendid bouquet : every evening, after bank-hours, 
 he'll come along with fresh kid gloves and a white vest. 
 During the afternoon, he and papa will pull each other's 
 hair out on the subject of the dowry. At last the happy 
 day will arrive. Can't you see it from here? Mass with 
 music, dinner, ball. The Baron Three Sixty-eight will 
 not spare me a single ceremony. The marriage of the 
 manager of the Mutual Credit must certainly be an ad- 
 vertisement. The papers will publish the names of the 
 bridesmaids and of the guests. 
 
 " To be sure, papa will have a face a yard long, be- 
 cause he will have been compelled to pay the dowry the 
 day before. Mamma will be all upset at the idea of be- 
 coming a grandmother. The bridegroom will be in a 
 wretched humor, because his boots will be too tight ; and 
 I'll look like a goose, because I'll be dressed in white; 
 and white is a stupid color, which is not at all becoming 
 to me. Charming family gathering, isn't it ? Two weeks 
 later, my husband will be sick of me, and I'll be dis- 
 gusted with him. After a month, we'll be at daggers' 
 points. He'll go back to his club and his mistresses ; and 
 I I shall have conquered the right to go out alone ; and 
 I'll begin again going to the bois, to balls, to races, 
 wherever my mother goes. I'll spend an enormous 
 amount of money on my dress, and I'll make debts which 
 papa will pay." 
 
 Though any thing might be expected of Mile. Cesar-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 441 
 
 ine, still M. de Tregars seemed visibly astonished. And 
 she, laughing at his surprise, 
 
 " That's the invariable programme/' she went on ; 
 " and that's why I say I'm glad at the idea of a change, 
 whatever it may be. You find fault with me for not pity- 
 ing Mile. Gilberte. How could I, since I envy her ? She 
 is happy, because her future is not settled, laid out, fixed 
 in advance. She is poor ; but she is free. She is twenty ; 
 she is pretty ; she has an admirable voice ; she can go on 
 the stage to-morrow, and be, before six months, one of 
 the pet actresses of Paris. What a life then ! Ah, that 
 is the one I dream, the one I would have selected, had I 
 been mistress of my destiny." 
 
 But she was interrupted by the noise of the opening 
 door. 
 
 The Baroness de Thaller appeared. As she was, im- 
 mediately after dinner, to go to the opera, and after- 
 wards to a party given by the Viscountess de Bois d'Ar- 
 don, she was in full dress. She wore a dress, cut auda- 
 ciously low in the neck, of very light gray satin, 
 trimmed with bands of cherry-colored silk edged with 
 lace. In her hair, worn high over her head, she had a 
 bunch of fuchsias, the flexible stems of which, fastened 
 by a large diamond star, trailed down to her very shoul- 
 ders, white and smooth as marble. 
 
 But, though she forced herself to smile, her counte- 
 nance was not that of festive days ; and the glance which 
 she cast upon her daughter and Marius de Tregars was 
 laden with threats. In a voice of which she tried in vain 
 to control the emotion, 
 
 " How very kind of you, marquis," she began, " to re- 
 spond so soon to my invitation of this morning! I am 
 really distressed to have kept you waiting; but I was 
 dressing. After what has happened to M. de Thaller, it
 
 44* OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 is absolutely indispensable that I should go out, show 
 myself : otherwise our enemies will be going around to- 
 morrow, saying everywhere that I am in Belgium, pre- 
 paring lodgings for my husband." 
 
 And, suddenly changing her tone, 
 
 " But what was that madcap Cesarine telling you? " 
 she asked. 
 
 It was with a profound surprise that M. de Tregars 
 discovered that the entente cordiale which he suspected 
 between the mother and daughter did not exist, at least 
 at this moment. 
 
 Veiling under a jesting tone the strange conjectures 
 which the unexpected discovery aroused within him, 
 
 " Mile. Cesarine," he replied, " who is much to be 
 pitied, was telling me all her troubles." 
 
 She interrupted him. 
 
 " Do not take the trouble to tell a story, M. le Mar- 
 quis," she said. " Mamma knows it as well as yourself ; 
 for she was listening at the door." 
 
 " Cesarine ! " exclaimed Mme. de Thaller. 
 
 " And, if she came in so suddenly, it is because she 
 thought it was fully time to cut short my confidences." 
 
 The face of the baroness became crimson. 
 
 " The child is mad ! " she said. 
 
 The child burst out laughing. 
 
 " That's my way," she went on. " You should not 
 have sent me here by chance, and against my wish. You 
 made me do it: don't complain. You were sure that I 
 had but to appear, and M. de Tregars would fall at my 
 feet. I appeared, and you saw the effect through the 
 keyhole, didn't you ? " 
 
 Her features contracted, her eyes flashing, twisting 
 her lace handkerchief between her fingers loaded with 
 rings,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 443 
 
 " It is unheard of," said Mme. de Thaller. " She has 
 certainly lost her head." 
 
 Dropping her mother an ironical courtesy, 
 
 " Thanks for the compliment ! " said the young lady. 
 " Unfortunately, I never was more completely in pos- 
 session of all the good sense I may boast of than I am 
 now, dear mamma. What were you telling me a moment 
 since ? ' Run, the Marquis de Tregars is coming to ask 
 your hand: it's all settled.' And what did I answer? 
 ' No use to trouble myself : if, instead of one million, 
 papa were to give me two, four millions, indeed all the 
 millions paid by France to Prussia, M. de Tregars 
 would not have me for a wife.' " 
 
 And, looking Marius straight in the face, 
 
 " Am I not right, M. le Marquis ? " she asked. " And 
 isn't it a fact that you wouldn't have me at any price? 
 Come, now, your hand upon your heart, answer." 
 
 M. de Tregars' situation was somewhat embarrassing 
 between these two women, whose anger was equal, 
 though it manifested itself in a different way. Evi- 
 dently it was a discussion begun before, which was now 
 continued in his presence. 
 
 " I think, madamoiselle," he began, " that you have 
 been slandering yourself gratuitously." 
 
 " Oh, no ! I swear it to you," she replied ; " and, if 
 mamma had not happened in, you would have heard 
 much more. But that was not an answer." 
 
 And, as M. de Tregars said nothing, she turned to- 
 wards the baroness, 
 
 " Ah, ah ! you see," she said. " Who was crazy, 
 you, or I? Ah! you imagine here that money is every 
 thing, that every thing is for sale, and that every thing 
 can be bought. Well, no! There are still men, who, 
 for all the gold in the world, would not give their name
 
 444 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to Cesarine de Thaller. It is strange ; but it is so, dear 
 mamma, and we must make up our mind to it." , 
 
 Then turning towards Marius, and bearing upon each 
 syllable, as if afraid that the allusion might escape 
 him, 
 
 " The men of whom I speak," she added, " marry 
 the girls who can starve to death." 
 
 Knowing her daughter well enough to be aware that 
 she could not impose silence upon her, the Baroness de 
 Thaller had dropped upon a chair. She was trying 
 hard to appear indifferent to what her daughter was 
 saying; but at every moment a threatening gesture, or 
 a hoarse exclamation, betrayed the storm that raged 
 within her. 
 
 " Go, on, poor foolish child ! " she said, " go on ! " 
 
 And she did go on. 
 
 " Finally, were M. de Tregars willing to have me, I 
 would refuse him myself, because, then " 
 
 A fugitive blush colored her cheeks, her bold eyes 
 vacillated, and, dropping her voice, 
 
 " Because, then," she added, " he would no longer be 
 what he is; because I feel that fatally I shall despise 
 the husband whom papa will buy for me. And, if I 
 came here to expose myself to an affront which I fore- 
 saw, it is because I wanted to make sure of a fact of 
 which a word of Costeclar, a few days ago, had given 
 me an idea, of a fact which you do not, perhaps, sus- 
 pect, dear mother, despite your astonishing perspicacity. 
 I wanted to find out M. de Tregars' secret ; and I have 
 found it out." 
 
 M. de Tregars had come to the Thaller mansion with 
 a plan well settled in advance. He had pondered long 
 before deciding what he would do, and what he would 
 say, and how he would begin the decisive struggle. What
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 445 
 
 had taken place showed him the idleness of his conjec- 
 tures, and, as a natural consequence, upset his plans. 
 
 To abandon himself to the chances of the hour, and to 
 make the best possible use of them, was now the wisest 
 thing to do. 
 
 " Give me credit, mademoiselle," he uttered, " for 
 sufficient penetration to have perfectly well discerned 
 your intentions. There was no need of artifice, because 
 I have nothing to conceal. You had but to question 
 me, I would have answered you frankly, ' Yes, it is true 
 I love Mile. Gilberte; and before a month she will be 
 Marquise de Tregars.' ''' 
 
 Mme. de Thaller, at those words, had started to her 
 feet, pushing back her arm-chair so violently, that it 
 rolled all the way to the wall. 
 
 " What ! " she exclaimed, " you marry Gilberte Fa- 
 voral, you ! " 
 
 " I yes." 
 
 " The daughter of a defaulting cashier, a dishonored 
 man whom justice pursues and the galleys await! " 
 
 " Yes ! " And in an accent that caused a shiver to 
 run over the white shoulders of Mme. de Thaller, 
 
 " Whatever may have been," he uttered, " Vincent 
 Favoral's crime; whether he has or has not stolen, the 
 twelve millions which are wanting from the funds of 
 the Mutual Credit; whether he is alone guilty, or has 
 accomplices; whether he be a knave, or a fool, an im- 
 postor, or a dupe, Mile. Gilberte is not responsible." 
 
 " You know the Favoral family, then ? " 
 
 " Enough to make their cause henceforth my own." 
 
 The agitation of the baroness was so great, that she 
 did not even attempt to conceal it. 
 
 " A nobody's daughter ! " she said. 
 
 " I love her."
 
 446 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 "Without a sou!" 
 
 Mile. Cesarine made a superb gesture. 
 
 " Why, that's the very reason why a man may marry 
 her ! " she exclaimed. And, holding out her hand to 
 M. de Tregars, 
 
 " What you do here is well," she added, " very 
 well." 
 
 There was a wild look in the eyes of the baroness. 
 
 " Mad, unhappy child ! " she exclaimed. " If your 
 father should hear ! " 
 
 " And who, then, would report our conversation to 
 him ? M. de Tregars ? He would not do such a thing. 
 You? You dare not." 
 
 Drawing herself up to her fullest height, her breast 
 swelling with anger, her head thrown back, her eyes 
 flashing, 
 
 " Cesarine," ordered Mme. de Thaller, her arm ex- 
 tended towards the door, " Cesarine, leave the room : 
 I command you." 
 
 But, motionless in her place, the girl cast upon her 
 mother a look of defiance. 
 
 " Come, calm yourself/' she said in a tone of crush- 
 ing irony, " or you'll spoil your complexion for the rest 
 of the evening. Do I complain ? do I get excited ? And 
 yet whose fault is it, if honor makes it a duty for me to 
 cry ' Beware ! ' to an honest man who wishes to marry 
 me ? That Gilberte should get married ; that she should 
 be very happy, have many children, darn her husband's 
 stockings, and skim her pot-au-feu, that is her part in 
 life. Ours, dear mother, that which you have taught 
 me, is to laugh and have fun, all the time, night and 
 day, till death." 
 
 A footman who came in interrupted her. Handing 
 a card to Mme. de Thaller,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 447 
 
 " The gentleman who gave it to me," he said, " is in 
 the large parlor." 
 
 The 'baroness had become very pale. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said turning the card between her fin- 
 gers "oh!" 
 
 Then suddenly she ran out exclaiming, 
 
 " I'll be back directly." 
 
 An embarrassing, painful silence followed, as it was 
 inevitable that it would, the Baroness de Thaller's pre- 
 cipitate departure. 
 
 Mile. Cesarine had approached the mantel-piece. She 
 was leaning her elbow upon it, her forehead on her hand, 
 all palpitating and excited. Intimidated for, perhaps, 
 the first time in her life, she turned away her great blue 
 eyes, as if afraid that they should betray a reflex of her 
 thoughts. 
 
 As to M. de Tregars, he remained at his place, not 
 having one whit too much of that power of self-control, 
 which is acquired by a long experience of the world, to 
 conceal his impressions. If he had a fault, it was cer- 
 tainly not self-conceit; but Mile, de Thaller had been 
 too explicit and too clear to leave him a doubt. All she 
 had said could be comprised in one sentence, 
 
 " My parents were in hopes that I would become your 
 wife : I had judged you well enough to understand their 
 error. Precisely because I love you, I acknowledge 
 myself unworthy of you ; and I wish you to know, that 
 if you had asked mv hand, the hand of a girl who has 
 a dowry of a million, I would have ceased to esteem 
 you." 
 
 That such a feeling should have budded and blos- 
 somed in Mile. Cesarine's soul, withered as it was by 
 vanity, and blunted by pleasure, was almost a miracle. 
 It was, at any rate, an astonishing proof of love which
 
 448 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 she gave ; and Marius de Tregars would not have been 
 a man, if he had not been deeply moved by it. 
 
 Suddenly, 
 
 " What a miserable wretch I am ! '' she uttered. 
 
 " You mean unhappy," said M. de Tregars gently. 
 
 " What can you think of my sincerity ? You must, 
 doubtless, find it strange, impudent, grotesque." 
 
 He lifted his hand in protest; for she gave him no 
 time to put in a word. 
 
 " And yet," she went on, " this is not the first time 
 that I am assailed by sinister ideas, and that I feel 
 ashamed of myself. I was convinced once that this mad 
 existence of mine is the only enviable one, the only one 
 that can give happiness. And now I discover that it is 
 not the right path which I have taken, or, rather, which 
 I have been made to take. And there is no possibility 
 of retracing my steps." 
 
 She turned pale, and, in an accent of gloomy des- 
 pair, 
 
 " Every thing fails me," she said. " It seems as 
 though I were rolling into a bottomless abyss, without 
 a branch or a tuft of grass to cling to. Around me, 
 emptiness, night, chaos. I am not yet twenty; and it 
 seems to me that I have lived thousands of years, and 
 exhausted every sensation. I have seen every thing, 
 learned every thing, experienced every thing; and I 
 am tired of every thing, and satiated and nauseated. 
 You see me looking like a brainless hoyden. I sing, 
 I jest, I talk slang. My gayety surprises everybody. 
 In reality, I am literally tired to death. What I feel I 
 could not express ; there are no words to render abso- 
 lute disgust. Sometimes I say to myself, ' It is stupid 
 to be so sad. What do you need ? Are you not young, 
 handsome, rich ? ' But I must need something, or else
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 449 
 
 I would not be thus agitated, nervous, anxious, unable 
 to stay in one place, tormented by confused aspirations, 
 and by desires which I cannot formulate. What can I 
 do? Seek oblivion in pleasure and dissipation? I try, 
 and I succeed for an hour or so ; but the re-action comes, 
 and the effect vanishes, like froth from champagne. The 
 lassitude returns; and, whilst outwardly I continue to 
 laugh, I shed within tears of blood which scald my 
 heart. What is to become of me, without a memory in 
 the past, or a hope in the future, upon which to rest my 
 thought?" 
 
 And bursting into tears, 
 
 " Oh, I am wretchedly unhappy ! " she exclaimed ; 
 " and I wish I was dead." 
 
 M. de Tregars rose, feeling more deeply moved than 
 he would, perhaps, have liked to acknowledge. 
 
 " I was laughing at you only a moment since," he said 
 in his grave and vibrating voice. " Pardon me, ma- 
 demoiselle. It is with the utmost sincerity, and from 
 the innermost depths of my soul, that I pity you." 
 
 She was looking at him with an air of timid doubt, 
 big tears trembling between her long eyelashes. 
 
 "Honest?" she asked. 
 
 " Upon my honor." 
 
 " And you will not go with too poor an opinion of 
 me?" 
 
 " I shall retain the firm belief that when you were 
 yet but a child, you were spoiled by insane theories." 
 
 Gently and sadly she was passing her hand over her 
 forehead. 
 
 " Yes, that's it," she murmured. " How could I re- 
 sist examples coming from certain persons ? How could 
 I help becoming intoxicated when I saw myself, as it 
 were, in a cloud of incense when I heard nothing but
 
 450 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 praises and applause? And then there is the money, 
 which depraves when it comes in a certain way.'' 
 
 She ceased to speak; but the silence was soon again 
 broken by a slight noise, which came from the adjoining 
 room. 
 
 Mechanically, M. de Tregars looked around him. The 
 little parlor in which he found himself was divided from 
 the main drawing-room of the house by a tall and broad 
 door, closed only by heavy curtains, which had remained 
 partially drawn. Now, such was the disposition of the 
 mirrors in the two rooms, that M. de Tregars could see 
 almost the whole of the large one reflected in the mir- 
 ror over the mantelpiece of the little parlor. A man 
 of suspicious appearance, and wearing wretched clothes, 
 was standing in it. 
 
 And, the more M. de Tregars examined him, the more 
 it seemed to him that he had already seen somewhere 
 that uneasy countenance, that anxious glance, that 
 wicked smile flitting upon flat and thin lips. 
 
 But suddenly the man bowed very low. It was prob- 
 able that Mme. de Thaller, who had gone around 
 through the hall to reach the grand parlor, must be com- 
 ing in; and in fact she almost immediately appeared 
 within the range of the glass. She seemed much agi- 
 tated ; and, with a finger upon her lips, she was recom- 
 mending to the man to be prudent, and to speak low. 
 It was therefore in a whisper, and such a low whisper 
 that not even a vague murmur reached the little parlor, 
 that the man uttered a few words. 
 
 They were such that the baroness started back as if 
 she had seen a precipice yawning at her feet; and by. 
 this action it was easy to understand that she must have 
 said, 
 
 "Is it possible?"
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 451 
 
 With the voice which still could not be heard, but 
 with a gesture which could be seen, the man evidently 
 replied, * 
 
 " It is so, I assure you ! " 
 
 And leaning towards Mme. de Thaller, who seemed 
 in no wise shocked to feel this repulsive personage's 
 lips almost touching her ear, he began speaking to her. 
 
 The surprise which this species of vision caused to 
 M. de Tregars was great, but did not keep him from 
 reflecting what could be the meaning of this scene. How 
 came this suspicious-looking man to have obtained ac- 
 cess, without difficulty, into the grand parlor? Why 
 had the baroness, on receiving his card, turned whiter 
 than the laces on her dress ? What news had he brought, 
 which had made such a deep impression ? What was he 
 saying that seemed at once to terrify and to delight 
 Mme. de Thaller? 
 
 But soon she interrupted the man, beckoned to him 
 to wait, disappeared for a minute ; and, when she came 
 in again, she held in her hand a package of bank-notes, 
 which she began counting upon the parlor-table. 
 
 She counted twenty-five, which, so far as M. de Tre- 
 gars could judge, must have been hundred-franc notes. 
 The man took them, counted them over, slipped them 
 into his pocket with a grin of satisfaction, and then 
 seemed disposed to retire. 
 
 The baroness detained him, however; and it was she 
 now, who, leaning towards him, commenced to explain 
 to him, or rather, as far as her attitude showed, to ask 
 him something. It must have been a serious matter; 
 for he shook his head, and moved his arms, as if he 
 meant to say, " The deuse, the deuse ! " 
 
 The strangest suspicions flashed across M. de Tregars' 
 mind. What was that bargain to which the mirror made
 
 452 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 him thus an accidental witness ? For it was a bargain : 
 there could be no mistake about it. The man, having 
 received a mission, had fulfilled it, and had come to re- 
 ceive the price of it. And now a new commission was 
 offered to him. 
 
 But M. de Tregars' attention was now called off by 
 Mile. Cesarine. Shaking off the torpor which for a mo- 
 ment had overpowered her, 
 
 " But why fret and worry ? " she said, answering, 
 rather, the objections of her own mind than addressing 
 herself to M. de Tregars. " Things are just as they are, 
 and I cannot undo them. 
 
 " Ah ! if the mistakes of life were like soiled clothes, 
 which are allowed to accumulate in a wardrobe, and 
 which are all sent out at once to the wash. But nothing 
 washes the past, not even repentance, whatever they may 
 say. There are some ideas which should be set aside. 
 A prisoner should not allow himself to think of free- 
 dom. 
 
 " And yet," she added, shrugging her shoulders, " a 
 prisoner has always the hope of escaping ; whereas I " 
 
 Then, making a visible effort to resume her usual 
 manner, 
 
 " Bash ! " she said, " that's enough sentiment for 
 one day; and instead of staying here, boring you to 
 death, I ought to go and dress ; for I am going to the 
 opera with my sweet mamma, and afterwards to the ball. 
 You ought to come. I am going to wear a stunning 
 dress. The ball is at Mme. de Bois d'Ardon's, 
 one of our friends, a progressive woman. She has 
 a smoking-room for ladies. What do you think of 
 that? Come, will you go? We'll drink champagne, 
 and we'll laugh. No Zut then, and my compliments 
 to your family."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 453 
 
 But, at the moment of leaving the room, her heart 
 failed her. 
 
 " This is doubtless the last time I shall ever see you, 
 M. de Tregars," she said. " Farewell ! You know now 
 why I, who have a dowry of a million, I envy Gilberte 
 Favoral. Once more farewell. And, whatever hap- 
 piness may fall to your lot in life, remember that Cesar- 
 ine has wished it all to you." 
 
 And she went out at the very moment when the Bar- 
 oness de Thaller returned. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " CESARINE ! " Mme. de Thaller called, in a voice 
 which sounded at once like a prayer and a threat. 
 
 " I am going to dress myself, mamma/' she an- 
 swered. 
 
 "Comeback!" 
 
 " So that you can scold me if I am not ready when 
 you want to go? Thank you, no." 
 
 " I command you to come back, Cesarine." 
 
 No answer. She was far already. 
 
 Mme. de Thaller closed the door of the little parlor, 
 and returning to take a seat by M. de Tregars, 
 
 " What a singular girl ! " she said. 
 
 Meantime he was watching in the glass what was go- 
 ing on in the other room. The suspicious-looking man 
 was there still, and alone. A servant had brought him 
 pen, ink and paper ; and he was writing rapidly. 
 
 " How is it that they leave him there alone ? " won- 
 dered Marius. 
 
 And he endeavored to find upon the features of the 
 baroness an answer to the confused presentiments which
 
 454 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 agitated his brain. But there was no longer any trace 
 of the emotion which she had manifested when taken 
 unawares. Having had time for reflection, she had 
 composed for herself an impenetrable countenance. 
 Somewhat surprised at M. de Tregars' silence, 
 
 " I was saying," she repeated, " that Cesarine is a 
 strange girl." 
 
 Still absorbed by the scene in the grand parlor, 
 
 " Strange, indeed ! " he answered. 
 
 " And such is," said the baroness with a sigh, " the 
 result of M. de Thaller's weakness, and above all of my 
 own." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " We have no child but Cesarine ; and it was natural 
 that we should spoil her. Her fancy has been, and is 
 still, our only law. She has never had time to express 
 a wish: she is obeyed before she has spoken." 
 
 She sighed again, and deeper than the first time. 
 
 " You have just seen," she went on, " the results of 
 that insane education. And yet it would not do to trust 
 appearances. Cesarine, believe me, is not as extrava- 
 gant as she seems. She possesses solid qualities, of 
 those which a man expects of the woman who is to be 
 his wife." 
 
 Without taking his eyes off the glass, 
 
 " I believe you madame," said M. de Tregars. 
 
 " With her father, with me especially, she is capri- 
 cious, wilful, and violent ; but, in the hands of the hus- 
 band of her choice, she would be like wax in the hands 
 of the modeller." 
 
 The man in the parlor had finished his letter, and, 
 with an equivocal smile, was reading it over. 
 
 " Believe me, madame," replied M. de Tregars, " I
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 455 
 
 have perfectly understood how much naive boasting 
 there was in all that Mile. Cesarine told me." 
 
 " Then, really, you do not judge her too severely?" 
 
 " Your heart has not more indulgence for her than 
 my own." 
 
 " And yet it is from you that her first real sorrow 
 comes." 
 
 "From me?" 
 
 The baroness shook her head in a melancholy way, 
 to convey an idea of her maternal affection and anx- 
 iety. 
 
 " Yes, from you, my dear marquis," she replied, 
 " from you alone. On the very day you entered this 
 house, Cesarine's whole nature changed." 
 
 Having read his letter over, the man in the grand par- 
 lor had folded it, and slipped it into his pocket, and, hav- 
 ing left his seat, seemed to be waiting for something. 
 M. de Tregars was following, in the glass, his every 
 motion, with the most eager curiosity. And neverthe- 
 less, as he felt the absolute necessity of saying some- 
 thing, were it only to avoid attracting the attention of 
 the baroness, 
 
 " What ! " he said, " Mile. Cesarine's nature did 
 change, then ? " 
 
 " In one night. Had she not met the hero of whom 
 every girl dreams? a man of thirty, bearing one of 
 the oldest names in France." 
 
 She stopped, expecting an answer, a word, an excla- 
 mation. But, as M. de Tregars said nothing, 
 
 " Did you never notice any thing then ? " she asked. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " And suppose I were to tell you myself, that my poor 
 Cesarine, alas ! loves you ? "
 
 456 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 M. de Tregars started. Had he been less occupied 
 with the personage in the grand parlor, he would cer- 
 tainly not have allowed the conversation to drift in this 
 channel. He understood his mistake; and, in an icy 
 tone, 
 
 " Permit me, madame," he said, " to believe that you 
 are jesting." 
 
 " And suppose it were the truth." 
 
 " It would make me unhappy in the extreme." 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " For the reason which I have already told you, that 
 I love Mile. Gilberte Favoral with the deepest and the 
 purest love, and that for the past three years she has 
 been, before God, my affianced bride." 
 
 Something like a flash of anger passed over Mme. 
 de Thaller's eyes. 
 
 "And I," she exclaimed, " I tell you that this mar- 
 riage is senseless." 
 
 " I wish it were still more so, that I might the better 
 show to Gilberte how dear she is to me." 
 
 Calm in appearance, the baroness was scratching with 
 her nails the satin of the chair on which she was sitting. 
 
 " Then," she went on, " your resolution is settled." 
 
 " Irrevocably." 
 
 " Still, now, come, between us who are no longer 
 children, suppose M. de Thaller were to double Cesar- 
 ine's dowry, to treble it ? " 
 
 An expression of intense disgust contracted the manly 
 features of Marius de Tregars. 
 
 " Ah ! not another word, madame," he interrupted. 
 
 There was no hope left. Mme. de Thaller fully real- 
 ized it by the tone in which he spoke. She remained 
 pensive for over a minute, and suddenly, like a person 
 who has finally made up her mind, she rang.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 457 
 
 A footman appeared. 
 
 " Do what I told you ! " she ordered. 
 
 And as soon as the footman had gone, turning to M. 
 de Tregars, 
 
 " Alas ! " she said, " who would have thought that I 
 would curse the day when you first entered our house ? " 
 
 But, whilst she spoke, M. de Tregars noticed in the 
 glass the result of the order she had just given. 
 
 The footman walked into the grand parlor, spoke a 
 few words; and at once the man with the alarming 
 countenance put on his hat and went out. 
 
 " This is very strange ! " thought M. de Tregars. 
 
 Meantime, the baroness was going on, 
 
 " If your intentions are to that point irrevocable, how 
 is it that you are here? You have too much experience 
 of the world not to have understood, this morning, the 
 object of my visit and of my allusions." 
 
 Fortunately, M. de Tregars' attention was no longer 
 drawn by the proceedings in the next room. The de- 
 cisive moment had come : the success of the game he was 
 playing would, perhaps, depend upon his coolness and 
 self-command. 
 
 " It is because I did understand, madame, and even 
 better than you suppose, that I am here." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " I came, expecting to deal with M. de Thaller 
 alone. I have been compelled, by what has happened, 
 to alter my intentions. It is to you that I must speak 
 first." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller continued to manifest the same tran- 
 quil assurance ; but she stood up. Feeling the approach 
 of the storm, she wished to be up, and ready to meet it. 
 
 " You honor me," she said with an ironical smile. 
 
 There was, henceforth, no human power capable of
 
 458 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 turning Marius de Tregars from the object he had in 
 view. 
 
 " It is to you I shall speak," he repeated, " because, 
 after you have heard me, you may perhaps judge that it 
 is your interest to join me in endeavoring to obtain 
 from your husband what I ask, what I demand, what I 
 must have." 
 
 With an air of surprise marvellously well simulated, 
 if it was not real, the baroness was looking at him. 
 
 " My father," he proceeded to say, " the Marquis de 
 Tregars, was once rich: he had several millions. And 
 yet when I ha/1 the misfortune of losing him, three 
 years ago, he was so thoroughly ruined, that to relieve 
 the scruples of his honor, and to make his death easier, 
 I gave up to his creditors all I had in the world. What 
 had become of my father's fortune? What filter had 
 been administered to him to induce him to launch into 
 hazardous speculations, he, an old Breton gentleman, 
 full, even to absurdity, of the most obstinate prejudices 
 of the nobility ? That's what I wished to ascertain." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " And now, madame, I have ascertained." 
 
 She was a strong-minded woman, the Baroness de 
 Thaller. She had had so many adventures in her life, 
 she had walked on the very edge of so many precipices, 
 concealed so many anxieties, that danger was, as it 
 were, her element, and that, at the decisive moment of 
 an almost desperate game, she could remain smiling like' 
 those old gamblers whose face never betrays their ter- 
 rible emotion at the moment when they risk their last 
 stake. Not a muscle of her face moved ; and it was with 
 the most imperturbable calm that she said, 
 
 " Go on, I am listening : it must be quite interesting."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 459 
 
 That was not the way to propitiate M. de Tregars. 
 He resumed, in a brief and harsh tone, 
 
 " When my father died, I was young. I did not 
 know then what I have learned since, that to con- 
 tribute to insure the impunity of knaves is almost to 
 make one's self their accomplice. And the victim who 
 says nothing and submits, does contribute to it. The 
 honest man, on the contrary, should speak, and point 
 out to others the trap into which he has fallen, that they 
 may avoid it." 
 
 The baroness was listening with the air of a person 
 who is compelled by politeness to hear a tiresome story. 
 
 " That is a rather gloomy preamble," she said. 
 
 M. de Tregars took no notice of the interruption. 
 
 " At all times," he went on, " my father seemed care- 
 less of his affairs : that affectation, he thought, was due 
 to the name he bore. But his negligence was only ap- 
 parent. I might mention things of him that would do 
 honor to the most methodical tradesman. He had, for 
 instance, the habit of preserving all the letters of any 
 importance which he received. He left twelve or fif- 
 teen boxes full of such. They were carefully classi- 
 fied; and many bore upon their margin a few notes 
 indicating what answer had been made to them.'' 
 
 Half suppressing a yawn, 
 
 " That is order," said the baroness, " if I know any 
 thing about it." 
 
 " At the first moment, determined not to stir up the 
 past, I attached no importance to those letters ; and they 
 would certainly have been burnt, but for an old friend 
 of the family, the Count de Villegre, who had them 
 carried to his own house. But later, acting under the 
 influence of circumstances which it would be too long
 
 460 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to explain to you, I regretted my apathy ; and I thought 
 that I should, perhaps, find in that correspondence some- 
 thing to either dissipate or justify certain suspicions 
 which had occurred to me." 
 
 " So that, like a respectful son, you read it ? " 
 
 M. de Tregars bowed ceremoniously. 
 
 " I believe," he said, " that to avenge a father of the 
 imposture of which he was the victim during his life, is 
 to render homage to his memory. Yes, madame, I read 
 the whole of that correspondence, and with an interest 
 which you will readily understand. I had already, and 
 without result, examined the contents of several boxes, 
 when in the package marked 1852, a year which my 
 father spent in Paris, certain letters attracted my atten- 
 tion. They were written upon coarse paper, in a very 
 primitive handwriting and wretchedly spelt. They were 
 signed sometimes Phrasie, sometimes Marquise de Ja- 
 velle. Some gave the address, ' Rue des Bergers, No. 
 3, Paris-Grenelle.' 
 
 " Those letters left me no doubt upon what had taken 
 place. My father had met a young working-girl of rare 
 beauty : he had taken a fancy to her ; and, as he was tor- 
 mented by the fear of being loved for his money alone, 
 he had passed himself off for a poor clerk in one of the 
 departments." 
 
 " Quite a touching little love-romance," remarked the 
 baroness. 
 
 But there was no impertinence that could affect 
 Marius de Tregars' coolness. 
 
 " A romance, perhaps," he said, " but in that case a 
 money-romance, not a love-romance. This Phrasie. or 
 Marquise de Javelle, announces in one of her letters, 
 that in February, 1853, she has given birth to a daughter, 
 whom she has confided to some relatives of hers in the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 461 
 
 south, near Toulouse. It was doubtless that event which 
 induced my father to acknowledge who he was. He 
 confesses that he is not a poor clerk, but the Marquis de 
 Tregars, having an income of over a hundred thousand 
 francs. At once the tone of the correspondence changes. 
 The Marquise de Javelle has a stupid time where she 
 lives; the neighbors reproach her with her fault; work 
 spoils her pretty hands. Result: less than two weeks 
 after the birth of her daughter, my father hires for his 
 pretty mistress a lovely apartment, which she occupies 
 under the name of Mme. Devil; she is allowed fifteen 
 hundred francs a month, servants, horses, carriage." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller was giving signs of the utmost im- 
 patience. Without paying any attention to them, M. 
 de Tregars proceeded, 
 
 " Henceforth free to see each other daily, my father 
 and his mistress cease to write. But Mme. Devil does 
 not waste her time. During a space of less than eight 
 months, from February to September, she induces my 
 father to dispose not in her favor, she is too disinter- 
 ested for that, but in favor of her daughter of a sum 
 exceeding five hundred thousand francs. In September, 
 the correspondence is resumed. Mme. Devil discovers 
 that she is not happy, and acknowledges it in a letter, 
 which shows, by its improved writing and more correct 
 spelling, that she has been taking lessons. 
 
 " She complains of her precarious situation : the fu- 
 ture frightens her : she longs for respectability. Such is, 
 for three months, the constant burden of her correspond- 
 ence. She regrets the time when she was a working- 
 girl: why has she been so weak? Then, at last, in a 
 note which betrays long debates and stormy discussions, 
 she announces that she has an unexpected offer of mar- 
 riage ; a fine fellow, who, if she only had two hundred
 
 462 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 thousand francs, would give his name to herself and to 
 her darling little daughter. For a long time my father 
 hesitates ; but she presses her point with such rare skill, 
 she demonstrates so conclusively that this marriage will 
 insure the happiness of their child, that my father yields 
 at last, and resigns himself to the sacrifice. And in a 
 memorandum on the margin of a last letter, he states 
 that he has just given two hundred thousand francs to 
 Mme. Devil ; that he will never see her again ; and that 
 he returns to live in Brittany, where he wishes, by the 
 most rigid economy, to repair the breach he has just 
 made in his fortune." 
 
 " Thus end all these love-stories/' said Mme. de 
 Thaller in a jesting tone. 
 
 " I beg your pardon : this one is not ended yet. For 
 many years, my father kept his word, and never left our 
 homestead of Tregars. But at last he grew tired of his 
 solitude, and returned to Paris. Did he seek to see his 
 former mistress again ? I think not. I suppose that chance 
 brought them together ; or else, that, being aware of his 
 return, she managed to put herself in his way. He 
 found her more fascinating than ever, and, according to 
 what she wrote him, rich and respected ; for her husband 
 had become a personage. She would have been perfectly 
 happy, she added, had it been possible for her to forget 
 the man whom she had once loved so much, and to 
 whom she owed her position. 
 
 " I have that letter. The elegant hand, the style, and 
 the correct orthography, express better than any thing 
 else the transformations of the Marquise de Javelle. 
 Only it is not signed. The little working-girl has be- 
 come prudent : she has much to lose, and fears to com- 
 promise herself. 
 
 "A week later, in a laconic note, apparently dictated
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 463 
 
 by an irresistible passion, she begs my father to come to 
 see her at her own house. He does so, and finds there 
 a little girl, whom he believes to be his own child, and 
 whom he at once begins to idolize. 
 
 "And that's all. Again he falls under the charm. 
 He ceases to belong to himself: his former mistress 
 can dispose, at her pleasure, of his fortune and of his 
 fate. 
 
 " But see now what bad luck ! The husband takes 
 a notion to become jealous of my father's visits. In a 
 letter which is a masterpiece of diplomacy, the lady ex- 
 plains her anxiety. ' He has suspicions,' she writes ; 
 * and to what extremities might he not resort, were he 
 to discover the truth ! ' And with infinite art she insinu- 
 ates that the best way to justify his constant presence is 
 to associate himself with that jealous husband. 
 
 " It is with childish haste that my father jumps at 
 the suggestion. But money is needed. He sells his 
 lands, and everywhere announces that he has great 
 financial ideas, and that he is going to increase his for- 
 tune tenfold. 
 
 " There he is now, partner of his former mistress's 
 husband, engaged in speculations, director of a com- 
 pany. He thinks that he is doing an excellent business : 
 he is convinced that he is making lots of money. Poor 
 honest man ! They prove to him, one morning, that he 
 is ruined, and, what is more, compromised. And this 
 is made to look so much like the truth, that I interfere 
 myself, and pay the creditors. We were ruined; but 
 honor was safe. A few weeks later, my father died 
 broken-hearted." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller half rose from her seat with a ges- 
 ture which indicated the joy of escaping at last a mer- 
 ciless bore. A glance from M. de Tregars riveted her
 
 464 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 to her seat, freezing upon her lips the jest she was about 
 to utter. 
 
 " I have not done yet," he said rudely. 
 
 And, without suffering any interruption, 
 
 " From this correspondence," he resumed, " resulted 
 the flagrant, irrefutable proof of a shameful intrigue, 
 long since suspected by my old friend, General Count 
 de Villegre. It became evident to me that my poor 
 father had been most shamefully imposed upon by that 
 mistress, so handsome and so dearly loved, and, later, 
 despoiled, by the husband of that mistress. But all this 
 availed me nothing. Being ignorant of my father's life 
 and connections, the letters giving neither a name nor 
 a precise detail, I knew not whom to accuse. Besides, 
 in order to accuse, it is necessary to have, at least, some 
 material proof." 
 
 The baroness had resumed her seat ; and every thing 
 about her her attitude, her gestures, the motion of her 
 lips seemed to say, 
 
 "You are my guest. Civility has its demands; but 
 really you abuse your privileges." 
 
 M. de Tregars went on, 
 
 " At this moment I was still a sort of savage, wholly 
 absorbed in my experiments, and scarcely ever setting 
 foot outside my laboratory. I was indignant; I ar- 
 dently wished to find and to punish the villains who had 
 robbed us: but I knew not how to go about it, nor in 
 what direction to seek information. The wretches 
 would, perhaps, have gone unpunished, but for a good 
 and worthy man, now a commissary of police, to whom 
 I once rendered a slight service, one night, in a riot, 
 when he was close pressed by some half-dozen rascals. 
 I explained the situation to him : he took much interest
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 465 
 
 in it, promised his assistance, and marked out my line 
 of conduct." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller seemed restless upon her seat. 
 
 " I must confess," she began, " that I am not wholly 
 mistress of my time. I am dressed, as you see : I have 
 to go out." 
 
 If she had preserved any hope of adjourning the ex- 
 planation which she felt coming, she must have lost it 
 when she heard the tone in which M. de Tregars in- 
 terrupted her. 
 
 " You can go out to-morrow." 
 
 And, without hurrying, 
 
 " Advised, as I have just told you, 5 ' he continued, 
 " and assisted by the experience of a professional man, 
 I went first to No. 3, Rue des Bergers, in Crenelle. I 
 found there some old people, the foreman of a neighbor- 
 ing factory and his wife, who had been living in the 
 house for nearly twenty-five years. At my first ques- 
 tion, they exchanged a glance, and commenced laugh- 
 ing. They remembered perfectly the Marquise de Ja- 
 velle, which was but a nickname for a young and pretty 
 laundress, whose real name was Euphrasie Taponnet. 
 She had lived for eighteen months on the same landing 
 as themselves : she had a lover, who passed himself off 
 for a clerk, but who was, in fact, she had told them, a 
 very wealthy nobleman. They added that she had given 
 birth to a little girl, and that, two weeks later she had 
 disappeared, and they had never heard a word from her. 
 When I left them, they said to me, ' If you see Phrasie, 
 ask her if she ever knew old Chandour and his wife. I 
 am sure she'll remember us.' " 
 
 For the first time Mme. de Thaller shuddered slightly ; 
 but it was almost imperceptible.
 
 466 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " From Crenelle," continued M. de Tregars, " I went 
 to the house where my father's mistress had lived under 
 the name of Mme. Devil. I was in luck. I found there 
 the same concierge as in 1853. As soon as I mentioned 
 Mme. Devil, she answered me that she had not in the 
 least forgotten her, but, on the contrary, would know 
 her among a thousand. She was, she said, one of the 
 prettiest little women she had ever seen, and the most 
 generous tenant. I understood the hint, handed her a 
 couple of napoleons, and heard from her every thing 
 she knew on the subject. It seemed that this pretty 
 Mme. Devil had, not one lover, but two, the acknowl- 
 edged one, who was the master, and footed the bills ; and 
 the other an anonymous one, who went out through the 
 back-stairs, and who did not pay, on the contrary. The 
 first was called the Marquis de Tregars : of the second, 
 she had never known but the first name, Frederic. I 
 tried to ascertain what had become of Mme. Devil ; but 
 the worthy concierge swore to me that she did not know. 
 
 " One morning, like a person who is going abroad, 
 or who wishes to cover up her tracks, Mme. Devil had 
 sent for a furniture-dealer, and a dealer in second-hand 
 clothes, and had sold them every thing she had, going 
 away with nothing but a little leather satchel, in which 
 were her jewels and her money." 
 
 The Baroness de Thaller still kept a good counte- 
 nance. After examining her for a moment, with a sort 
 of eager curiosity, Marius de Tregars went on, 
 
 " When I communicated this information to my 
 friend, the commissary of police, he shook his head. 
 ' Two years ago,' he told me, ' I would have said, That's 
 more than we want to find those people ; for the public 
 records would have given us at once the key of this en- 
 igma. But we have had the war and the Commune ; and
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 467 
 
 the books of record have been burnt up. Still we must 
 not give up. A last hope remains ; and I know the man 
 who is capable of realizing it.' 
 
 " Two days after, he brought me an excellent fellow, 
 named Victor Chupin, in whom I could have entire con- 
 fidence; for he was recommended to me by one of the 
 men whom I like and esteem the most, the Duke de 
 Champdoce. Giving up all idea of applying at the va- 
 rious mayors' offices, Victor Chupin, with the patience 
 and the tenacity of an Indian following a scent, began 
 beating about the districts of Crenelle, Vargirard, and 
 the Invalids. And not in vain ; for, after a week of in- 
 vestigations he brought me a nurse, residing Rue de 
 1'Universite, who remembered perfectly having once at- 
 tended, on the occasion of her confinement, a remarkably 
 pretty young woman, living in the Rue des Bergers, 
 and nicknamed the Marquise de Javelle. And as she 
 was a very orderly woman, who at all times had kept 
 a very exact account of her receipts, she brought me a 
 little book in which I read this entry : ' For attending 
 Euphrasie Taponnet, alias the Marquise de Javelle (a 
 girl), one hundred francs.' And this is not all. This 
 woman informed me, moreover, that she had been re- 
 quested to present the child at the mayor's office, and 
 that she had been duly registered there under the names 
 of Euphrasie Cesarine Taponnet, born of Euphrasie 
 Taponnet, laundress, and an unknown father. Finally 
 she placed at my disposal her account-book and her tes- 
 timony." 
 
 Taxed beyond measure, the energy of the baroness 
 was beginning to fail her; she was turning livid under 
 her rice-powder. Still in the same icy tone. 
 
 "You can understand, madame," said Marius de 
 Tregars, " that this woman's testimony, together with
 
 468 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the letters which are in my possession, enables me to 
 establish before the courts the exact date of the birth of 
 a daughter whom my father had of his mistress. But 
 that's nothing yet. With renewed zeal, Victor Chupin 
 had resumed his investigations. He had undertaken 
 the examination of the marriage-registers in all the par- 
 ishes of Paris, and, as early as the following week, he 
 discovered at Notre Dame des Lorettes the entry of the 
 marriage of Euphrasie Taponnet with Frederic de 
 Thaller." 
 
 Though she must have expected that name, the bar- 
 oness started up violently and livid, and with a haggard 
 look. 
 
 " It's false ! " she began in a choking voice. 
 
 A smile of ironical pity passed over Marius' lips. 
 
 " Five minutes' reflection will prove to you that it is 
 useless to deny," he interrupted. " But wait. In the 
 books of that same church, Victor Chupin has found 
 registered the baptism of a daughter of M. and Mme de 
 Thaller, bearing the same names as the first one, Eu- 
 phrasie Cesarine." 
 
 With a convulsive motion the baroness shrugged her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What does all that prove? " she said. 
 
 " That proves, madame, the well-settled intention of 
 substituting one child for another; that proves that my 
 father was imprudently deceived when he was made to 
 believe that the second Cesarine was his daughter, the 
 daughter in whose favor he had formerly disposed of 
 over five hundred thousand francs; that proves that 
 there is somewhere in the world a poor girl who has been 
 basely forsaken by her mother, the Marquise de Javelle, 
 now become the Baroness de Thaller." 
 
 Beside herself with terror and anger,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 469 
 
 " That is an infamous lie ! " exclaimed the baroness. 
 
 M. de Tregars bowed. 
 
 " The evidence of the truth of my statements," he 
 said, " I shall find at Louveciennes, and at the Hotel des 
 Folies, Boulevard du Temple, Paris." 
 
 Night had come. A footman came in carrying lamps, 
 which he placed upon the mantelpiece. He was not all 
 together one minute in the little parlor; but that one 
 minute was enough to enable the Marquise de Thaller 
 to recover her coolness, and to collect her ideas. When 
 the footman retired, she had made up her mind, with 
 the resolute promptness of a person accustomed to peril- 
 ous situations. She gave up the discussion, and, draw- 
 ing near to M. de Tregars, 
 
 " Enough allusions," she said : " let us speak frankly, 
 and face to face now. What do you want ? " 
 
 But the change was too sudden not to arouse Marius's 
 suspicions. 
 
 " I want a great many things," he replied. 
 
 " Still you must specify." 
 
 " Well, I claim first the five hundred thousand francs 
 which my father had settled upon his daughter, the 
 daughter whom you cast off." 
 
 "And what next?" 
 
 " I want besides, my own and my father's fortune, 
 of which we have been robbed by M. de Thaller, with 
 your assistance, madame." 
 
 "Is that all, at least?" 
 
 M. de Tregars shook his head. 
 
 " That's nothing yet," he replied. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " We have now to say something of Vincent Favoral's 
 iffairs." 
 
 An attorney who is defending the interests of a client
 
 470 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 is neither calmer nor cooler than Mme. de Thaller at 
 this moment. 
 
 " Do the affairs of my husband's cashier concern me, 
 then ? " she said with a shade of irony. 
 
 " Yes, madame, very much." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it." 
 
 " I know it from excellent sources, because, on my 
 return from Louveciennes, I called in the Rue du 
 Cirque, where I saw one Zelie Cadelle." 
 
 He thought that the baroness would at least start on 
 hearing that name. Not at all. With a look of pro- 
 found astonishment, 
 
 " Rue du Cirque," she repeated, like a person who is 
 making a prodigious effort of memory, " Rue du 
 Cirque! Zelie Cadelle! Really, I do not understand." 
 
 But, from the glance which M. de Tregars cast upon 
 her, she must have understood that she would not easily 
 draw from him the particulars which he had resolved 
 not to tell. 
 
 " I believe, on the contrary," he uttered, " that you 
 understand perfectly." 
 
 " Be it so, if you insist upon it. What do you ask 
 for Favoral ? " 
 
 " I demand, not for Favoral, but for the stockholders 
 who have been impudently defrauded, the twelve mil- 
 lions which are missing from the funds of the Mutual 
 Credit." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller burst out laughing. 
 
 "Only that?" she said. 
 
 " Yes, only that ! " 
 
 " Well, then, it seems to me that you should present 
 your reclamations to M. Favoral himself. You have 
 the right to run after him."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 471 
 
 " It is useless, for the reason that it is not he, the poor 
 fool ! who has carried off the twelve millions." 
 
 "Who is it, then?" 
 
 " M. le Baron de Thaller, no doubt.'' 
 
 With that accent of pity which one takes to reply to an 
 absurd proposition, " You are mad, my poor marquis," 
 said Mme. de Thaller. 
 
 " You do not think so." 
 
 " But suppose I should refuse to do any thing more ? " 
 
 He fixed upon her a glance in which she could read 
 an irrevocable determination; and slowly, 
 
 " I have a perfect horror of scandal," he replied, 
 " and, as you perceive, I am trying to arrange every 
 thing quietly between us. But, if I do not succeed thus, 
 I must appeal to the courts'' 
 
 " Where are your proofs ? " 
 
 " Don't be afraid : I have proofs to sustain all my al- 
 legations." 
 
 The baroness had stretched herself comfortably in her 
 arm-chair. 
 
 " May we know them ? " she inquired. 
 
 Marius was getting somewhat uneasy in presence of 
 Mme. de Thaller's imperturbable assurance. What hope 
 had she? Could she see some means of escape from 
 a situation apparently so desperate? Determined to 
 prove to her that all was lost, and that she had nothing 
 to do but to surrender, 
 
 " Oh ! I know, madame," he replied, " that you have 
 taken your precautions. But, when Providence inter- 
 feres, you see, human foresight does not amount to 
 much. See, rather, what happens in regard to your 
 first daughter, the one you had when you were still 
 only Marquise de Javelle/'
 
 472 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And briefly he called to her mind the principal inci- 
 dents of Mile. Lucienne's life from the time that she had 
 left her with the poor gardeners at Louveciennes, with- 
 out giving either her name or her address, the injury 
 she had received by being run over by Mme. de Thal- 
 ler's carriage; the long letter she had written from the 
 hospital, begging for assistance; her visit to the house, 
 and her meeting with the Baron de Thaller; the effort 
 to induce her to emigrate to America; her arrest by 
 means of false information, and her escape, thanks to the 
 kind peace-officer ; the attempt upon her life as she was 
 going home late one night; and, finally, her imprison- 
 ment after the Commune, among the petroleuses, and 
 her release through the interference of the same honest 
 friend." 
 
 And, charging her with the responsibility of all these 
 infamous acts, he paused for an answer or a protest. 
 
 And, as Mme. de Thaller said nothing, 
 
 " You are looking at me, madame, and wondering 
 how I have discovered all that. A single word will ex- 
 plain it all. The peace-officer who saved your daughter 
 is precisely the same to whom it was once my good for- 
 tune to render a service. By comparing notes, we have 
 gradually reached the truth, reached you, madame. 
 Will you acknowledge now that I have more proofs 
 than are necessary to apply to the courts? " 
 
 Whether she acknowledged it or not, she did not con- 
 descend to discuss. 
 
 "What then?" she said coldly. 
 
 But M. de Tregars was too much on his guard to 
 expose himself, by continuing to speak thus, to reveal 
 the secret of his designs. 
 
 Besides, whilst he was thoroughly satisfied as to the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 473 
 
 manoeuvres used to defraud his father he had, as yet, 
 but presumptions on what concerned Vincent Favoral. 
 
 " Permit me not to say another word, madame," he 
 replied. " I have told you enough to enable you to 
 judge of the value of my weapons." 
 
 She must have felt that she could not make him 
 change his mind, for she rose to go. 
 
 " That is sufficient," she uttered. " I shall reflect ; 
 and to-morrow I shall give you an answer." 
 
 She started to go; but M. de Tregars threw himself 
 quickly between her and the door. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said ; " but it is not to-morrow that 
 I want an answer : it is to-night, this instant ! " 
 
 Ah, if she could have annihilated him with a 
 look. 
 
 " Why, this is violence," she said in a voice which be- 
 trayed the incredible effort she was making to control 
 herself. 
 
 " It is imposed upon me by circumstances, madame." 
 
 "You would be less exacting, if my husband were 
 here." 
 
 He must have been within hearing ; for suddenly the 
 door opened, and he appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 There are people for whom the unforeseen does not 
 exist, and whom no event can disconcert. Having ven- 
 tured every thing, they expect every thing. Such was 
 the Baron de Thaller. With a sagacious glance he ex- 
 amined his wife and M. de Tregars; and in a cordial 
 tone, 
 
 " We are quarreling here ? " he said. 
 
 " I am glad you have come ! " exclaimed the baroness. 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 " The matter is, that M. de Tregars is endeavoring to
 
 474 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 take an odious advantage of some incidents of our past 
 life." 
 
 " There's woman's exaggeration for you ! " he said 
 laughing. 
 
 And, holding out his hand to Marius, 
 
 " Let me make your peace for you, my dear marquis," 
 he said : " that's within the province of the husband." 
 
 But, instead of taking his extended hand, M. de Tre- 
 gars stepped back. 
 
 " There is no more peace possible, sir, I am an 
 enemy." 
 
 " An enemy ! " he repeated in a tone of surprise which 
 was wonderfully well assumed, if it was not real. 
 
 " Yes," interrupted the baroness ; " and I must speak 
 to you at once, Frederic. Come: M. de Tregars will 
 wait for you." 
 
 And she led her husband into the adjoining room, 
 not without first casting upon Marius a look of burn- 
 ing and triumphant hatred. 
 
 Left alone, M. de Tregars sat down. Far from an- 
 noying him, this sudden intervention of the manager 
 of the Mutual Credit seemed to him a stroke of fortune. 
 It spared him an explanation more painful still than 
 the first, and the unpleasant necessity of having to con- 
 found a villain by proving his infamy to him. 
 
 " And besides," he thought, " when the husband and 
 the wife have consulted with each other, they will ac- 
 knowledge that they cannot resist, and that it is best to 
 surrender." The deliberation was brief. In less than ten 
 minutes, M. de Thaller returned alone. He was pale; 
 and his face expressed well the grief of an honest man 
 who discovers too late that he has misplaced his con- 
 fidence. 
 
 " My wife has told me all, sir," he began.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 475 
 
 M. de Tregars had risen. " Well ? " he asked. 
 
 " You see me distressed. Ah, M. le Marquis ! how 
 could I ever expect such a thing from you ? you, whom 
 I thought I had the right to look upon as a friend. And 
 it is you, who, when a great misfortune befalls me, at- 
 tempts to give me the finishing stroke. It is you who 
 would crush me under the weight of slanders gathered 
 in the gutter." 
 
 M. de Tregars stopped him with a gesture. 
 
 " Mme. de Thaller cannot have correctly repeated 
 my words to you, else you would not utter that word 
 ' slander/ " 
 
 " She has repeated them to me without the least 
 change." 
 
 " Then she cannot have told you the importance of 
 the proofs I have in my hands." 
 
 But the Baron persisted, as Mile. Cesarine would 
 have said, to " do it up in the tender style." 
 
 " There is scarcely a family," he resumed, " in which 
 there is not some one of those painful secrets which they 
 try to withhold from the wickedness of the world. There 
 is one in mine. Yes, it is true, that before our marriage, 
 my wife had had a child, whom poverty had compelled 
 her to abandon. We have since done every thing that 
 it was humanly possible to find that child, but without 
 success. It is a great misfortune, which has weighed 
 upon our life; but it is not a crime. If, however, you 
 deem it your interest to divulge our secret, and to dis- 
 grace a woman, you are free to do so : I cannot prevent 
 you. But I declare it to you, that fact is the only thing 
 real in your accusations. You say that your father has 
 been duped and defrauded. From whom did you get 
 such an idea ? 
 
 " From Marcolet, doubtless, a man without character^
 
 476 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 who has become my mortal enemy since the day when 
 he tried a sharp game on me, and came out second best. 
 Or from Costeclar, perhaps, who does not forgive me 
 for having refused him my daughter's hand, and who 
 hates me because I know that he committed forgery 
 once, and that he would be in prison but for your 
 father's extreme indulgence. Well, Costeclar and Mar- 
 colet have deceived you. If the Marquis de Tregars 
 ruined himself, it is because he undertook a business that 
 he knew nothing about, and speculated right and left. 
 It does not take long to sink a fortune, even without the 
 assistance of thieves. 
 
 " As to pretend that I have benefited by the embezzle- 
 ments of my cashier that is simply stupid ; and there can 
 be no one to suggest such a thing, except Jottras and 
 Saint Pavin, two scoundrels whom I have had ten times 
 the opportunity to send to prison and who were the ac- 
 complices of Favoral. Besides, the matter is in the 
 hands of justice ; and I shall prove in the broad daylight 
 of the court-room, as I have already done in the office 
 of the examining judge, that, to save the Mutual Credit, 
 I have sacrificed more than half my private fortune." 
 
 Tired of this speech, the evident object of which was 
 to lead him to discuss, and to betray himself, 
 
 " Conclude, sir," M. de Tregars interrupted harshly. 
 
 Still in the same placid tone, 
 
 " To conclude is easy enough," replied the baron. 
 " My wife has told me that you were about to marry 
 the daughter of my old cashier, a very handsome girl, 
 but without a sou. She ought to have a dowry." 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Let us show our hands. I am in a critical position : 
 you know it, and you are trying to take advantage of 
 it. Very well: we can still come to an understanding.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 477 
 
 What would you say, if I were to give to Mile. Gilberte 
 the dowry I intended for my daughter ? " 
 
 All M. de Tregars' blood rushed to his face. 
 
 " Ah, not another word ! " he exclaimed with a ges- 
 ture of unprecedented violence. 
 
 But, controlling himself almost at once, 
 
 " I demand," he added, " my father's fortune. I 
 demand that you should restore to the Mutual Credit 
 Company the twelve millions which have been ab- 
 stracted." 
 
 "And if not?" 
 
 " Then I shall apply to the courts." 
 
 They remained for a moment face to face, looking 
 into each other's eyes. Then, 
 
 " What have you decided ? " asked M. de Tregars. 
 
 Without perhaps, suspecting that his offer was a new 
 insult, 
 
 " I will go as far as fifteen hundred thousand francs," 
 replied M. de Thaller, " and I pay cash." 
 
 " Is that your last word ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " If I enter a complaint, with the proofs in my hands, 
 you are lost." 
 
 " We'll see about that." 
 
 To insist further would have been puerile. 
 
 " Very well, we'll see, then," said M. de Tregars. 
 
 But as he walked out and got into his cab, which had 
 been waiting for him at the door, he could not help won- 
 dering what gave the Baron de Thaller so much assur- 
 ance, and whether he was not mistaken in his conjec- 
 tures. 
 
 It was nearly eight o'clock, and Maxence, Mme. Fa- 
 voral and Mile. Gilberte must have been waiting for 
 him with a feverish impatience ; but he had eaten noth-
 
 478 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ing since morning, and he stopped in front of one of the 
 restaurants of the Boulevard. 
 
 He had just ordered his dinner, when a gentleman of 
 a certain age, but active and vigorous still, of military 
 bearing, wearing a mustache, and a vari-colored ribbon 
 at his buttonhole, came to take a seat at the adjoining 
 table. 
 
 In less than fifteen minutes M. de Tregars had des- 
 patched a bowl of soup and a slice of beef, and was has- 
 tening out, when his foot struck his neighbor's foot, 
 without his being able to understand how it had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 Though fully convinced that it was not his fault, he 
 hastened to excuse himself. But the other began to 
 talk angrily, and so loud, that everybody turned around. 
 
 Vexed as he was, Marius renewed his apologies. 
 
 But the other, like those cowards who think they have 
 found a greater coward than themselves, was pouring 
 forth a torrent of the grossest insults. 
 
 M. de Tregars was lifting his hand to administer 
 a well-deserved correction, when suddenly the scene in 
 the grand parlor of the Thaller mansion came back viv- 
 idly to his mind. He saw again, as in the glass, the ill- 
 looking man listening, with an anxious look, to Mme. de 
 Thaller's propositions, and afterwards sitting down to 
 write. 
 
 " That's it ! '' he exclaimed, a multitude of circum- 
 stances occurring to his mind, which had escaped him at 
 the moment. 
 
 And, without further reflection, seizing his adversary 
 by the throat, he threw him over on the table, holding 
 him down with his knee. 
 
 " I am sure he must have the letter about him," he 
 said to the people who surrounded him.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 479 
 
 And in fact he did take from the side-pocket of the 
 villain a letter, which he unfolded, and commenced read- 
 ing aloud, 
 
 " I am waiting for you, my dear major, come quick, 
 for the thing is pressing, a troublesome gentleman who 
 is to be made to keep quiet. It will be for you the mat' 
 ter of a sword-thrust, and for us the occasion to divide 
 a round amount." 
 
 " And, that's why he picked a quarrel with me," added 
 M. de Tregars. 
 
 Two waiters had taken hold of the villain, who was 
 struggling furiously, and wanted to surrender him to 
 the police. 
 
 " What's the use ? " said Marius. " I have his letter : 
 that's enough. The police will find him when they want 
 him." 
 
 And, getting back into his cab, 
 
 " Rue St. Gilles," he ordered, " and lively, if possi- 
 ble." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IN the Rue St. Gilles the hours were dragging, slow 
 and gloomy. After Maxence had left to go and meet M. 
 de Tregars, Mme. Favoral and her daughter had re- 
 mained alone with M. Chapelain, and had been com- 
 pelled to bear the brunt of his wrath, and to hear his in- 
 terminable complaints. 
 
 He was certainly an excellent man, that old lawyer, 
 and too just to hold Mile. Gilberte or her mother respon- 
 sible for Vincent Favoral's acts. He spoke the truth 
 when he assured them that he had for them a sincere 
 affection, and that they might rely upon his devotion. 
 But he was losing a hundred and sixty thousand francs ;
 
 480 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 and a man who loses such a large sum is naturally in 
 bad humor, and not much disposed to optimism. 
 
 The cruellest enemies of the poor women would not 
 have tortured them so mercilessly as this devoted friend. 
 
 He spared them not one sad detail of that meeting at 
 the Mutual Credit office, from which he had just come. 
 He exaggerated the proud assurance of the manager, 
 and the confiding simplicity of the stockholders. " That 
 Baron de Thaller," he said to them, " is certainly the 
 most impudent scoundrel and the cleverest rascal I have 
 ever seen. You'll see that he'll get out of it with clean 
 hands and full pockets. Whether or not he has accom- 
 plices, Vincent will be the scapegoat. We must make up 
 our mind to that." 
 
 His positive intention was to console Mme. Favoral 
 and Gilberte. Had he sworn to drive them to distraction, 
 he could not have succeeded better. 
 
 " Poor woman ! '' he said, " what is to become of you ? 
 Maxence is a good and honest fellow, I am sure, but 
 so weak, so thoughtless, so fond of pleasure ! He finds 
 it difficult enough to get along by himself. Of what as- 
 sistance will he be to you ? " 
 
 Then came advice. 
 
 Mme. Favoral, he declared, should not hesitate to ask 
 for a separation, which the tribunal would certainly 
 grant. For want of this precaution, she would remain 
 all her life under the burden of her husband's debts, 
 and constantly exposed to the annoyances of the cred- 
 itors. 
 
 And always he wound up by saying, 
 
 "'Who could ever have expected such a thing from 
 Vincent, a friend of twenty years' standing! A hun- 
 dred and sixty thousand francs ! Who in the world can- 
 be trusted hereafter ? "
 
 And in fact he did take from the side pocket of the villain a letter 
 which he unfolded and commenced reading aloud.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 481 
 
 Big tears were rolling slowly down Mme. Favoral's 
 withered cheeks. But Mile. Gilberte was of those for 
 whom the pity of others is the worst misfortune and the 
 most acute suffering. 
 
 Twenty times she was on the point of exclaim- 
 ing, 
 
 " Keep your compassion, sir : we are neither so much 
 to be pitied nor so much forsaken as you think. Our 
 misfortune has revealed to us a true friend, one who 
 does not speak, but acts." 
 
 At last, as twelve o'clock struck, M. Chapelain with- 
 drew, announcing that he would return the next day to 
 get the news, and to bring further consolation. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, we are alone at last 1 " said Mile. 
 Gilberte. 
 
 But they had not much peace, for all that. 
 
 Great as had been the noise of Vincent Favoral's dis- 
 aster, it had not reached at once all those who had in- 
 trusted their savings to him. All day long, the belated 
 creditors kept coming in ; and the scenes of the morning 
 were renewed on a smaller scale. Then legal sum- 
 monses began to pour in, three or four at a time. Mme. 
 Favoral was losing all courage. 
 
 " What disgrace ! " she groaned. " Will it always be 
 so hereafter ? " 
 
 And she exhausted herself in useless conjectures upon 
 the causes of the catastrophe ; and such was the disorder 
 of her mind, that she knew not what to hope and what 
 to fear, and that from one minute to another she wished 
 for the most contradictory things. 
 
 She would have been glad to hear that her husband 
 was safe out of the country, and yet she would have 
 deemed herself less miserable, had she known that he 
 was hid somewhere in Paris.
 
 482 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And obstinately the same questions returned to hei 
 lips, 
 
 "Where is he now? What is he doing? What is 
 he thinking about? How can he leave us without 
 news? Is it possible that it is a woman who has 
 driven him into the precipice? And, if so, who is that 
 woman ? " 
 
 Very different were Mile. Gilberte's thoughts. 
 
 The great calamity that befell her family had brought 
 about the sudden realization of her hopes. Her father's 
 disaster had given her an opportunity to test the man 
 she loved; and she had found him even superior to all 
 that she could have dared to dream. The name of Fa- 
 voral was forever disgraced; but she was going to be 
 the wife of Marius, Marquise de Tregars. 
 
 And, in the candor of her loyal soul, she accused her- 
 self of not taking enough interest in her mother's grief, 
 and reproached herself for the quivers of joy which she 
 felt within her. 
 
 " Where is Maxence ? " asked Mme. Favoral. 
 " Where is M. de Tregars ? Why have they told us 
 nothing of their projects? " 
 
 "They will, no doubt, come home to dinner," re- 
 plied Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 So well was she convinced of this, that she had given 
 orders to the servant to have a somewhat better dinner 
 than usual ; and her heart was beating at the thought of 
 being seated near Marius, between her mother and her 
 brother. 
 
 At about six o'clock, the bell rang violently. 
 
 " There he is ! " said the young girl, rising to her 
 feet. 
 
 But no: it was only the porter, bringing up a sum- 
 mons ordering Mme. Favoral, under penalty of the law,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 483 
 
 to appear the next day, at one o'clock precisely, before 
 the examining judge, Barban d'Avranchel, at his office 
 in the Palace of Justice. 
 
 The poor woman came near fainting. 
 
 " What can this judge want with me? It ought to be 
 forbidden to call a wife to testify against her husband," 
 she said. 
 
 " M. de Tregars will tell you what to answer, 
 mamma," said Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 Meantime, seven o'clock came, then eight, and still 
 neither Maxence nor M. de Tregars had come. 
 
 Both mother and daughter were becoming anxious, 
 when at last, a little before nine, they heard steps in the 
 hall. 
 
 Marius de Tregars appeared almost immediately. 
 
 He was pale ; and his face bore the trace of the crush- 
 ing fatigues of the day, of the cares which oppressed 
 him, of the reflections which had been suggested to his 
 mind by the quarrel of which he had nearly been the vic- 
 tim a few moments since. 
 
 " Maxence is not here ? " he asked at once. 
 
 " We have not seen him," answered Mile. Gilberte. 
 
 He seemed so much surprised, that Mme. Favoral was 
 frightened. 
 
 " What is the matter again, good God ! " she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Nothing, madame," said M. de Tregars, " noth- 
 ing that should alarm you. Compelled, about two hours 
 ago, to part from Maxence, I was to have met him here. 
 Since he has not come, he must have been detained. I 
 know where ; and I will ask your permission to run and 
 join him." 
 
 He went out ; but Mile. Gilberte followed him in the 
 hall, and, taking his hand,
 
 484 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " How kind of you ! " she began, " and how can we 
 ever sufficiently thank you ? " 
 
 He interrupted her. 
 
 " You owe me no thanks, my beloved ; for, in what I 
 am doing, there is more selfishness than you think. It 
 is my own cause, more than yours, that I am defending. 
 Any way, every thing is going on well." 
 
 And, without giving any more explanations, he started 
 again. He had no doubt that Maxence, after leaving 
 him, had run to the Hotel des Folies to give to Mile. 
 Lucienne an account of the day's work. And, though 
 somewhat annoyed that he had tarried so long, on second 
 thought, he was not surprised. 
 
 It was, therefore, to the Hotel des Folies that he was 
 going. Now that he had unmasked his batteries and be- 
 gun the struggle, he was not sorry to meet Mile Lu- 
 cienne. 
 
 In less than five minutes he had reached the Boule- 
 vard du Temple. In front of the Fortins' narrow corri- 
 dor a dozen idlers were standing, talking. 
 
 M. de Tregars was listening as he went along. 
 
 " It is a frightful accident," said one, " such a pretty 
 girl, and so young too ! " 
 
 " As to me," said another, " it is the driver that I 
 pity the most; for after all, if that pretty miss was in 
 that carriage, it was for her own pleasure ; whereas, the 
 poor coachman was only attending to his business." 
 
 A confused presentiment oppressed M. de Tregars' 
 heart. Addressing himself to one of those worthy citi- 
 zens, 
 
 " Have you heard any particulars ? " he inquired. 
 
 Flattered by the confidence, 
 
 "Certainly I have," he replied. "I didn't see the 
 thing with my own proper eyes; but my wife did. It
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 485 
 
 was terrible. The carriage, a magnificent private car- 
 riage too, came from the direction of the Madeleine. The 
 horses had run away ; and already there had been an ac- 
 cident in the Place du Chateau d'Eau, where an old 
 woman had been knocked down. Suddenly, here, over 
 there, opposite the toy-shop, which is mine, by the way, 
 the wheel of the carriage catches into the wheel of an 
 enormous truck; and at once, palatal the coachman is 
 thrown down, and so is the lady, who was inside, a 
 very pretty girl, who lives in this hotel." 
 
 Leaving there the obliging narrator, M. de Tregars 
 rushed through the narrow corridor of the Hotel des 
 Folies. At the moment when he reached the yard, he 
 found himself in presence of Maxence. 
 
 Pale, his head bare, his eyes wild, shaking with a ner- 
 vous chill, the poor fellow looked like a madman. Notic- 
 ing M. de Tregars, 
 
 " Ah, my friend ! " he exclaimed, " what misfor- 
 tune ! " 
 
 " Lucienne ? " 
 
 " Dead, perhaps. The doctor will not answer for her 
 recovery. I am going to the druggist's to get a prescrip- 
 tion." 
 
 He was interrupted by the commissary of police, 
 whose kind protection had hitherto preserved Mile. Lu- 
 cienne. He was coming out of the little room on the 
 ground-floor, which the Fortins used for an office, bed- 
 room, and dining-room. 
 
 He had recognized Marius de Tregars, and, coming 
 up to him, he pressed his hand, saying, " Well, you 
 know?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It is my fault, M. le Marquis ; for we were fully 
 notified. I knew so well that Mile. Lucienne's existence
 
 486 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 was threatened, I was so fully expecting a new attempt 
 upon her life, that, whenever she went out riding, it was 
 one of my men, wearing a footman's livery, who took 
 his seat by the side of the coachman. To-day my man 
 was so busy, that I said to myself, * Bash, for once ! ' 
 And behold the consequences ! " 
 
 It was with inexpressible astonishment that Maxence 
 was listening. It was with a profound stupor that he dis- 
 covered between Marius and the commissary that seri- 
 ous intimacy which is the result of long intercourse, real 
 esteem, and common hopes. 
 
 " It is not an accident, then," remarked M. de Tre- 
 gars. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " The coachman has spoken, doubtless? " 
 
 " No : the wretch was killed on the spot." 
 
 And, without waiting for another question, 
 
 " But don't let us stay here," said the commissary. 
 " Whilst Maxence runs to the drug-store, let us go into 
 the Fortins' office." 
 
 The husband was alone there, the wife being at that 
 moment with Mile. Lucienne. 
 
 " Do me the favor to go and take a walk for about 
 fifteen minutes," said the commissary to him. M We have 
 to talk, this gentleman and myself." 
 
 Humbly, without a word, and like a man who does 
 himself justice, M. Fortin slipped off. 
 
 And at once, " It is clear, M. le Marquis, it is mani- 
 fest, that a crime has been committed. Listen, and judge 
 for yourself. I was just rising from dinner, when I was 
 notified of what was called our poor Lucienne's accident. 
 Without even changing my clothes, I ran. The carriage 
 was lying in the street, broken to pieces. Two police- 
 men were holding the horses, which had been stopped.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 487 
 
 I inquire. I learn that Lucienne, picked up by Maxence, 
 has been able to drag herself as far as the Hotel des 
 Folies, and that the driver has been taken to the nearest 
 drug-store. Furious at my own negligence, and tor- 
 mented by vague suspicions, it is to the druggist's that 
 I go first, and in all haste. The driver was in a back- 
 room, stretched on a mattress. 
 
 " His head having struck the angle of the curbstone, 
 his skull was broken ; and he had just breathed his last. 
 It was, apparently, the annihilation of the hope which I 
 had, of enlightening myself by questioning this man. 
 Nevertheless, I give orders to have him searched. No 
 paper is discovered upon him to establish his identity; 
 but, in one of the pockets of his pantaloons, do you 
 know what they find? Two bank-notes of a thousand 
 francs each, carefully wrapped up in a fragment of 
 newspaper." 
 
 M. de Tregars had shuddered. 
 
 " What a revelation ! " he murmured. 
 
 It was not to the present circumstance that he applied 
 that word. But the commissary naturally mistook him. 
 
 " Yes," he went on, " it was a revelation. To me 
 these two thousand francs were worth a confession: 
 they could only be the wages of a crime. So, without 
 losing a moment, I jump into a cab, and drive to 
 Brion's. Everybody was upside down, because the 
 horses had just been brought back. I question; and. 
 from the very first words, the correctness of my pre- 
 sumption is demonstrated to me. The wretch who had 
 just died was not one of Brion's coachmen. This is what 
 had happened. At two o'clock, when the carriage or- 
 dered by M. Van Klopen was ready to go for Mile. Lu- 
 cienne, they had been compelled to send for the driver 
 and the footman, who had forgotten themselves drink-
 
 4 88 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 ing in a neighboring wine-shop, with a man who had 
 called to see them in the morning. They were slightly 
 under the influence of wine, but not enough so to make 
 it imprudent to trust them with horses ; and it was even 
 probable that the fresh air would sober them completely. 
 They had then started ; but they had not gone very far, 
 for one of their comrades had seen them stop the car- 
 riage in front of a wine-shop, and join there the same in- 
 dividual with whom they had been drinking all the 
 morning " 
 
 " And who was no other than the man who was 
 killed?" 
 
 " Wait. Having obtained this information, I get some 
 one to take me to the wine-shop; and I ask for the 
 coachman and the footman from Brion's. They were 
 there still ; and they are shown to me in a private room, 
 lying on the floor, fast asleep. I try to wake them up, but 
 in vain. I order to water them freely ; but a pitcher of 
 water thrown on their faces has no effect, save to make 
 them utter an inarticulate groan. I guess at once what 
 they have taken. I send for a physician, and I call on 
 the wine-merchant for explanations. It is his wife and 
 his barkeeper who answer me. They tell me, that, at 
 about two o'clock, a man came in the shop, who stated 
 that he was employed at Brion's, and who ordered three 
 glasses for himself and two comrades, whom he was ex- 
 pecting. 
 
 " A few moments later, a carriage stops at the door ; 
 and the driver and the footman leave it to come in. They 
 were in a great hurry, they said, and only wished to take 
 one glass. They do take three, one after another; then 
 they order a bottle. They were evidently forgetting their 
 horses, which they had given to hold to a commission- 
 aire. Soon the man proposes a game. The others ac-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 489 
 
 cept ; and here they are, settled in the back-room, knock- 
 ing on the table for sealed wine. The game must have 
 lasted at least twenty minutes. At the end of that time, 
 the man who had come in first appeared, looking very 
 much annoyed, saying that it was very unpleasant, that 
 his comrades were dead drunk, that they will miss their 
 work, and that the boss, who is anxious to please his 
 customers, will certainly dismiss them. Although he 
 had taken as much, and more than the rest, he was per- 
 fectly steady ; and, after reflecting for a moment, 
 
 " ' I have an idea/ he says. ' Friends should help each 
 other, shouldn't they ? I am going to take the coachman's 
 livery, and drive in his stead. I happen to know the cus- 
 tomer they were going after. She is a very kind old 
 lady, and I'll tell her a story to explain the absence of 
 the footman.' 
 
 " Convinced that the man is in Brion's employment, 
 they have no objection to offer to this fine project. 
 
 " The brigand puts on the livery of the sleeping coach- 
 man, gets up on the box, and starts off, after stating that 
 he will return for his comrades as soon as he has got 
 through the job, and that doubtless they will be sober by 
 that time." 
 
 M. de Tregars knew well enough the savoir-faire of 
 the commissary not to be surprised at his promptness in 
 obtaining precise information. 
 
 Already he was going on, 
 
 " Just as I was closing my examination, the doctor ar- 
 rived. I show him my drunkards ; and at once he rec- 
 ognizes that I have guessed correctly, and that these 
 men have been put asleep by means of one of those nar- 
 cotics of which certain thieves make use to rob their vic- 
 tims. A potion, which he administers to them by forcing 
 t!ieii teeth open with a knife, draws them from this
 
 490 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 lethargy. They open their eyes, and soon are in condi- 
 tion to reply to my questions. They are furious at the 
 trick that has been played upon them; but they do not 
 know the man. They saw him, they swear to me, for the 
 first time that very morning ; and they are ignorant even 
 of his name." 
 
 There was no doubt possible after such complete ex- 
 planations. The commissary had seen correctly, and he 
 proved it. 
 
 It was not of a vulgar accident that Mile. Lucienne 
 had just been the victim, but of a crime laboriously 
 conceived, and executed with unheard-of audacity, 
 of one of those crimes such as too many are com- 
 mitted, whose combinations, nine times out of ten, set 
 aside even a suspicion, and foil all the efforts of human 
 justice. 
 
 M. de Tregars knew now what had taken place, as 
 clearly as if he had himself received the confession of the 
 guilty parties. 
 
 A man had been found to execute that perilous pro- 
 gramme, to make the horses run away, and then to run 
 into some heavy wagon. The wretch was staking his 
 life on that game ; it being evident that the light carriage 
 must be smashed in a thousand pieces. But he must have 
 relied upon his skill and his presence of mind, to avoid 
 the shock, to jump off safe and sound; whilst Mile. Lu- 
 cienne, thrown upon the pavement, would probably be 
 killed on the spot. The event had deceived his expecta- 
 tions, and he had been the victim of his rascality ; but his 
 death was a misfortune. 
 
 " Because now," resumed the commissary, " the 
 thread is broken in our hands which would infallibly 
 have led us to the truth. Who is it that ordered the 
 crime, and paid for it ? We know it, since we know who
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 491 
 
 benefits by the crime. But that is not sufficient. Justice 
 requires something more than moral proofs. Living, 
 this bandit would have spoken. His death insures the 
 impunity of the wretches of whom he was but the in- 
 strument." 
 
 " Perhaps," said M. Tregars. 
 
 And at the same time he took out of his pocket, and 
 showed the note found in Vincent Favoral's pocket- 
 book, that note, so obscure the day before, now so ter- 
 ribly clear: 
 
 " I cannot understand your negligence. You should 
 get through with that Van Klopen affair: there is the 
 danger." 
 
 The commissary of police cast but a glance upon it, 
 and, replying to the objections of his old experience 
 rather more than addressing himself to M. de Tre- 
 gars, 
 
 " There can be no doubt about it," he murmured. " It 
 is to the crime committed to-day that these pressing rec- 
 ommendations relate ; and, directed as they are to Vin- 
 cent Favoral, they attest his complicity. It was he who 
 had charge of finishing the Van Klopen affair ; in other 
 words, to get rid of Lucienne. It was he, I'd wager my 
 head, who had treated with the false coachman." 
 
 He remained for over a minute absorbed in his own 
 thoughts, then, 
 
 " But who is the author of these recommendations to 
 Vincent Favoral? Do you know that, M. le Marquis? " 
 he said. 
 
 They looked at each other; and the same name rose 
 to their lips, 
 
 " The Baroness de Thaller! " 
 
 This name, however, they did not utter. 
 
 The commissary had placed himself under the gas-
 
 492 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 burner which gave light to the Fortin's office ; and, ad- 
 justing his glasses, he was scrutinizing the note with 
 the most minute attention, studying the grain and the 
 transparency of the paper, the ink, and the handwriting. 
 And at last, 
 
 " This note," he declared, " cannot constitute a proof 
 against its author: I mean an evident, material proof, 
 such as we require to obtain from a judge an order of 
 arrest." 
 
 And, as Marius was protesting, 
 
 " This note," he insisted, " is written with the left 
 hand, with common ink, on ordinary foolscap paper, 
 such as is found everywhere. Now all left-hand writ- 
 ings look alike. Draw your own conclusions." 
 
 But M. de Tregars did not give it up yet. 
 
 " Wait a moment," he interrupted. 
 
 And briefly, though with the utmost exactness, he be- 
 gan telling his visit to the Thaller mansion, his conversa- 
 tion with Mile. Cesarine, then with the baroness, and 
 finally with the baron himself. 
 
 He described in the most graphic manner the scene 
 which had taken place in the grand parlor between 
 Mme. de Thaller and a worse than suspicious-looking 
 man, that scene, the secret of which had been revealed 
 to him in its minutest details by the looking-glass. Its 
 meaning was now as clear as day. 
 
 This suspicious-looking man had been one of the 
 agents in arranging the intended murder : hence the agi- 
 tation of the baroness when she had received his card, 
 and her haste to join him. If she had started when he 
 first spoke to her, it was because he was telling her of the 
 successful execution of the crime. If she had afterwards 
 made a gesture of joy, it was because he had just in- 
 formed her that the coachman had been killed at the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 493 
 
 same time, and that she found herself thus rid of a dan- 
 gerous accomplice. 
 
 The commissary of police shook his head. 
 
 "All this is quite probable," he murmured; "but 
 that's all." 
 
 Again M. de Tregars stopped him. 
 
 " I have not done yet," he said. 
 
 And he went on saying how he had been suddenly and 
 brutally assaulted by an unknown man in a restaurant ; 
 how he had collared this abject scoundrel, and taken out 
 of his pocket a crushing letter, which left no doubt as to 
 the nature of his mission. 
 
 The commissary's eyes were sparkling, 
 
 " That letter ! " he exclaimed, " that letter ! " 
 
 And, as soon as he had looked over it, 
 
 "Ah! This time," he resumed, "I think that we 
 have something tangible. ' A troublesome gentleman 
 to keep quiet/ the Marquis de Tregars, of course, who 
 is on the right track. ' It will be for you the matter of 
 a sword-thrust/ Naturally, dead men tell no tales. ' It 
 will be for us the occasion of dividing a round amount.' 
 An honest trade, indeed ! " 
 
 The good man was rubbing his hand with all his 
 might. 
 
 " At last we have a positive fact," he went on, " a 
 foundation upon which to base our accusations. Don't 
 be uneasy. That letter is going to place into our hands 
 the scoundrel who assaulted you, who will make 
 known the go-between, who himself will not fail to sur- 
 render the Baroness de Thaller. Lucienne shall be 
 avenged. If we could only now lay our hands on Vin- 
 cent Favoral ! But we'll find him yet. I set two fellows 
 after him this afternoon, who have a superior scent, and 
 understand their business."
 
 494 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 He was here interrupted by Maxence, who was re- 
 turning all out of breath, holding in his hand the medi- 
 cines which he had gone after. 
 
 " I thought that druggist would never get through," 
 he said. 
 
 And regretting to have remained away so long, feel- 
 ing uneasy, and anxious to return up stairs, 
 
 " Don't you wish to see Lucienne ? " he added, ad- 
 dressing himself to M. de Tregars rather more than to 
 the commissary. 
 
 For all answer, they followed him at once. 
 
 A cheerless-looking place was Mile. Lucienne's room, 
 without any furniture but a narrow iron bedstead, a di- 
 lapidated bureau, four straw-bottomed chairs, and a 
 small table. Over the bed, and at the windows, were 
 white muslin curtains, with an edging that had once 
 been blue, but had become yellow from repeated wash- 
 ings. 
 
 Often Maxence had begged his friend to take a more 
 comfortable lodging, and always she had refused. 
 
 " We must economize," she would say. " This room 
 does well enough for me ; and, besides, I am accustomed 
 to it." 
 
 When M. de Tregars and the commissary walked in, 
 the estimable hostess of the Hotel des Folies was kneel- 
 ing in front of the fire, preparing some medicine. 
 
 Hearing the footsteps, she got up, and, with a finger 
 upon her lips, 
 
 " Hush ! " she said. " Take care not to wake her up ! " 
 
 The precaution was useless. 
 
 " I am not asleep," said Mile. Lucienne in a feeble 
 voice. "Who is there?" 
 
 "I," replied Maxence, advancing towards the bed. 
 
 It was only necessary to see the poor girl in order to
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 495 
 
 understand Maxence's frightful anxiety. She was 
 whiter than the sheet; and fever, that horrible fever 
 which follows severe wounds, gave to her eyes a sinister 
 lustre. 
 
 " But you are not alone," she said again. 
 
 " I am with him, my child," replied the commissary. 
 " I come to beg your pardon for having so badly pro- 
 tected you." 
 
 She shook her head with a sad and gentle motion. 
 
 " It was myself who lacked prudence," she said ; " for 
 to-day, while out, I thought I noticed something wrong ; 
 but it looked so foolish to be afraid ! If it had not hap- 
 pened to-day, it would have happened some other day. 
 The villains who have been pursuing me for years must 
 be satisfied now. They will soon be rid of me." 
 
 " Lucienne," said Maxence in a sorrowful tone 
 
 M. de Tregars now stepped forward. 
 
 " You shall live, mademoiselle," he uttered in a grave 
 voice. " You shall live to learn to love life." 
 
 And, as she was looking at him in surprise, 
 
 " You do not know me," he added. 
 
 Timidly, and as if doubting the reality, 
 
 " You," she said, " the Marquis de Tregars ! " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, your brother." 
 
 Had he had the control of events, Marius de Tregars 
 would probably not have been in such haste to reveal 
 this fact. 
 
 But how could he control himself in presence of that 
 bed where a poor girl was, perhaps, about to die, sacri- 
 ficed to the terrors and to the cravings of the miserable 
 woman who was her mother, to die at twenty, victim of 
 the basest and most odious of crimes? How could he 
 help feeling an intense pity at the sight of this unfortu- 
 nate young woman who had endured every thing that a
 
 496 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 human being can suffer, whose life had been but a long 
 and painful struggle, whose courage had risen above 
 all the woes of adversity, and who had been able to pass 
 without a stain through the mud and mire of Paris. 
 
 Besides, Marius was not one of those men who mis- 
 trust their first impulse, who manifest their emotion only 
 for a purpose, who reflect and calculate before giving 
 themselves up to the inspirations of their heart. 
 
 Lucienne was the daughter of the Marquis de Tre- 
 gars : of that he was absolutely certain. He knew that 
 the same blood flowed in his veins and in hers ; and he 
 told her so. 
 
 He told her so, above all, because he believed her in 
 danger ; and he wished, were she to die, that she should 
 have, at least, that supreme joy. 
 
 Poor Lucienne! Never had she dared to dream of 
 such happiness. All her blood rushed to her cheeks ; and, 
 in a voice vibrating with the most intense emotion, 
 
 " Ah ! now, yes," she uttered, " I would like to live." 
 
 The commissary of police, also, felt moved. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, my child," he said in his kindest 
 tone. " Before two weeks you will be up. M. de Tre- 
 gars is a great physician." 
 
 In the mean time, she had attempted to raise herself 
 on her pillow ; and that simple effort had wrung from 
 her a cry of anguish. 
 
 " Dear me ! How I do suffer ! " 
 
 " That's because you won't keep quiet, my darling," 
 said Mme. Fortin in a tone of gentle scolding. " Have 
 you forgotten that the doctor has expressly forbidden 
 you to stir ? " 
 
 Then taking aside the commissary, Maxence, and M. 
 de Tregars, she explained to them how imprudent it was 
 to disturb Mile. Lucienne's rest. She was very ill,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 497 
 
 affirmed the worthy hostess; and her advice was, that 
 they should send for a sick-nurse as soon as possible. 
 
 She would have been extremely happy, of course, to 
 spend the night by the side of her dear lodger ; but, un- 
 fortunately, she could not think of it, the hotel requiring 
 all her time and attention. Fortunately, however, she 
 knew in the neighborhood a widow, a very honest 
 woman, and without her equal in taking care of the 
 sick. 
 
 With an anxious and beseeching look, Maxence was 
 consulting M. de Tregars. In his eyes could be read the 
 proposition that was burning upon his lips, 
 
 " Shall I not go for Gilberte? " 
 
 But that proposition he had no time to express. 
 Though they had been speaking very low, Mile. Lu- 
 cienne had heard. 
 
 " I have a friend," she said, " who would certainly be 
 willing to sit up with me." 
 
 They all went up to her. 
 
 " What friend," inquired the commissary of po- 
 lice. 
 
 "You know her very well, sir. It is that poor girl 
 who had taken me home with her at Batignolles when I 
 left the hospital, who came to my assistance during the 
 Commune, and whom you helped to get out of the Ver- 
 sailles prisons." 
 
 " Do you know what has become of her ? " 
 
 " Only since yesterday, when I received a letter from 
 her, a very friendly letter. She writes that she has found 
 money to set up a dressmaking establishment, and 
 that she is relying upon me to be her forewoman. She is 
 going to open in the Rue St. Lazare ; but, in the mean 
 time, she is stopping in the Rue du Cirque." 
 
 M. de Tregars and Maxence had started slightly.
 
 498 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " What is your friend's name ? " they inquired at once. 
 
 " Zelie Cadelle." 
 
 Not being aware of the particulars of the two young 
 men's visit to the Rue du Cirque, the commissary of po- 
 lice could not understand the cause of their agitation. 
 
 " I think," he said, " that it would hardly be proper 
 now to send for that girl." 
 
 " It is to her alone, on the contrary, that we must re- 
 sort," interrupted M. de Tregars. 
 
 And, as he had good reasons to mistrust Mme. For- 
 tin, he took the commissary outside the room, on the 
 landing ; and there, in a few words, he explained to him 
 that this Zelie was precisely the same woman whom 
 they had found in the Rue du Cirque, in that sumptuous 
 mansion where Vincent Favoral, under the simple name 
 of Vincent, had been living, according to the neighbors, 
 in such a princely style. 
 
 The commissary of police was astounded. Why had 
 he not known all this sooner? Better late than never, 
 however. 
 
 " Ah ! you are right, M. le Marquis, a hundred times 
 right ! " he declared. " This girl must evidently know 
 Vincent Favoral's secret, the key of the enigma that 
 we are vainly trying to solve. What she would not tell 
 to you, a stranger, she will tell to Lucienne, her friend." 
 
 Maxence offered to go himself for Zelie Cadelle. 
 
 " No," answered Marius. " If she should happen to 
 know you, she would mistrust you, and would refuse 
 to come." 
 
 It was, therefore, M. Fortin who was despatched to 
 the Rue du Cirque, and who went off muttering, though 
 he had received five francs to take a carriage, and five 
 francs for his trouble. 
 
 " And now," said the commissary of police to Max-
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 499 
 
 ence, " we must both of us get out of the way. I, be- 
 cause the fact of my being a commissary would frighten 
 Mme. Cadelle; you because, being Vincent Favoral's 
 son, your presence would certainly prove embarrassing 
 to her." 
 
 And so they went out; but M. de Tregars did not 
 remain long alone with Mile. Lucienne. M. Fortin had 
 had the delicacy not to tarry on the way. 
 
 Eleven o'clock struck as Zelie Cadelle rushed like a 
 whirlwind into her friend's room. 
 
 Such had been his haste, that she had given no 
 thought whatever to her dress. She had stuck upon her 
 uncombed hair the first bonnet she had laid her hand 
 upon, and thrown an old shawl over the wrapper in 
 which she had received Marius in the afternoon. 
 
 " What, my poor Lucienne ! " she exclaimed. " Are 
 you so sick as all that ? " 
 
 But she stopped short as she recognized M. de Tre- 
 gars ; and, in a suspicious tone, 
 
 " What a singular meeting ! " she said. 
 
 Marius bowed. 
 
 " You know Lucienne ? " 
 
 What she meant by that he understood perfectly. 
 
 " Lucienne is my sister, madame," he said coldly. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. " What humbug ! " 
 
 " It's the truth," affirmed Mile. Lucienne ; " and you 
 know that I never lie." 
 
 Mme. Zelie was dumbfounded. 
 
 " If you say so," she muttered. " But no matter', 
 that's queer." 
 
 M. de Tregars interrupted her with a gesture, 
 
 " And, what's more, it is because Lucienne is mv sister 
 that you see her there lying upon that bed. They at- 
 tempted to murder her to-day ! "
 
 500 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " It was her mother who tried to get rid of her, so as 
 to possess herself of the fortune which my father had 
 left her; and there is every reason to believe that the 
 snare was contrived by Vincent Favoral." 
 
 Mme. Zelie did not understand very well ; but, when 
 Marius and Mile. Lucienne had informed her of all that 
 it was useful for her to know, 
 
 " Why," she exclaimed, " what a horrid rascal that 
 old Vincent must be ! " 
 
 And, as M. de Tregars remained dumb, 
 
 " This afternoon," she went on, " I didn't tell you 
 any stories ; but I didn't tell you every thing, either." 
 
 She stopped ; and, after a moment of deliberation, 
 
 " Well, I don't care for old Vincent," she said. " Ah ! 
 he tried to have Lucienne killed, did he? Well, then, I 
 am going to tell every thing I know. First of all, he 
 wasn't any thing to me. It isn't very flattering; but 
 it is so. He has never kissed so much as the end of my 
 ringer. He used to say that he loved me, but that he 
 respected me still more, because I looked so much like 
 a daughter he had lost. Old humbug ! And I believed 
 him too! I did, upon my word, at least in the begin- 
 ning. But I am not such a fool as I look. I found out 
 very soon that he was making fun of me ; and that he 
 was only using me as a blind to keep suspicion away 
 from another woman." 
 
 " From what woman ? " 
 
 " Ah ! now, I do not know ! All I know is that she is 
 married, that he is crazy about her, and that they are 
 to run away together " 
 
 "Hasn't he gone, then?" 
 
 Mme. Cadelle's face had become somewhat anxious, 
 and for over a minute she seemed to hesitate.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 501 
 
 " Do you know," she said at last, " that my answer 
 is going to cost me a lot ? They have promised me a pile 
 of money; but I haven't got it yet. And, if I say any 
 thing, good-by ! I sha'n't have any thing." 
 
 M. de Tregars was opening his lips to tell her that she 
 might rest easy on that score ; but she cut him short. 
 
 " Well, no," she said : " Old Vincent hasn't gone. He 
 got up a comedy, so he told me, to throw the lady's hus- 
 band off the track. He sent off a whole lot of baggage 
 by the railroad ; but he staid in Paris." 
 
 " And do you know where he is hid ? " 
 
 " In the Rue St. Lazare, of course : in the apartment 
 that I hired two weeks ago." 
 
 In a voice trembling with the excitement of almost 
 certain success, " Would you consent to take me there ? " 
 asked M. de Tregars. 
 
 " Whenever you like, to-morrow." 
 
 IX. 
 
 As he left Mile. Lucienne's room, 
 
 " There is nothing more to keep me at the Hotel des 
 Folies," said the commissary of police to Maxence. 
 " Every thing possible will be done, and well done, by 
 M. de Tregars. I am going home, therefore ; and I am 
 going to take you with me. I have a great deal to do; 
 and you'll help me." 
 
 That was not exactly true ; but he feared, on the part 
 of Maxence, some imprudence which might compromise 
 the success of M. de Tregars' mission. 
 
 He was trying to think of every thing to leave as little 
 as possible to chance ; like a man who has seen the best 
 combined plans fail for want of a trifling precaution.
 
 502 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 Once in the yard, he opened the door of the lodge 
 where the honorable Fortins, man and wife, were de- 
 liberating, and exchanging their conjectures, instead 
 of going to bed. For they were wonderfully puzzled 
 by all those events that succeeded each other, and anx- 
 ious about all these goings and comings. 
 
 " I am going home," the commissary said to them ; 
 " but, before that, listen to my instructions. You will 
 allow no one, you understand, no one who is not 
 known to you, to go up to Mile. Lucienne's room. And 
 remember that I will admit of no excuse, and that you 
 must not come and tell me afterwards, ' It isn't our 
 fault, we can't see everybody that comes in,' and all that 
 sort of nonsense." 
 
 He was speaking in that harsh and imperious tone of 
 which police-agents have the secret, when they are ad- 
 dressing people who have, by their conduct, placed them- 
 selves under their dependence. 
 
 " We are going to close our front-door," replied the 
 estimable hotel-keepers. " We will comply strictly with 
 vour orders." 
 
 " I trust so ; because, if you should disobey me, I 
 should hear it, and the result would be a serious trouble 
 to you. Besides your hotel being unmercifully closed 
 up, you would find yourselves implicated in a very bad 
 piece of business." 
 
 The most ardent curiosity could be read in Mme. For- 
 tin's little eyes. 
 
 " I understood at once," she began, " that something 
 extraordinary was going on." 
 
 But the commissary interrupted her, 
 
 " I have not done yet. It may be that to-night or to- 
 morrow some one w ; U call and inquire how Mile. Lu- 
 cienne is."
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " You will answer that she is as bad as possible ; and 
 that she has neither spoken a word, nor recovered her 
 senses, since the accident; and that she will certainly 
 not live through the day." 
 
 The effort which Mme. Fortin made to remain silent 
 gave, better than any thing else, an idea of the terror 
 with which the commissary inspired her. 
 
 " That is not all," he went on. " As soon as the per- 
 son in question has started off, you will follow him, 
 without affectation, as far as the street-door, and you 
 will point him out with your finger, here, like that, to 
 one of my agents, who will happen to be on the Boule- 
 vard." 
 
 " And suppose he should not be there ? " 
 
 " He shall be there. You can make yourself easy on 
 that score." 
 
 The looks of distress which the honorable hotel- 
 keepers were exchanging did not announce a very tran- 
 quil conscience. 
 
 " In other words, here we are under surveillance," 
 said M. Fortin with a groan. " What have we done to 
 be thus mistrusted ? " 
 
 To reply to him would have been a task more long 
 than difficult. 
 
 " Do as I tell you," insisted the commissary harshly, 
 " and don't mind the rest, and, meantime, good- 
 night." 
 
 He was right in trusting implicitly to his agent's 
 punctuality ; for, as soon as he came out of the Hotel des 
 Folies, a man passed by him, and without seeming to 
 address him, or even to recognize him, said in 3 whis- 
 per, 
 
 "What news?"
 
 504 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Nothing," he replied, " except that the Fortins are 
 notified. The trap is well set. Keep your eyes open now, 
 and spot any one who comes to ask about Mile. Lu- 
 cienne." 
 
 And he hurried on, still followed by Maxence, who 
 walked along like a body without soul, tortured by the 
 most frightful anguish. 
 
 As he had been away the whole evening, four or five 
 persons were waiting for him at his office on matters of 
 current business. He despatched them in less than no 
 time; after which, addressing himself to an agent on 
 duty, 
 
 " This evening," he said, " at about nine o'clock, in a 
 restaurant on the Boulevard, a quarrel took place. A 
 person tried to pick a quarrel with another. 
 
 " You will proceed at once to that restaurant ; you 
 will get the particulars of what took place ; and you will 
 ascertain exactly who this man is, his name, his profes- 
 sion, and his residence." 
 
 Like a man accustomed to such errands, 
 
 " Can I have a description of him ? " inquired the 
 agent. 
 
 " Yes. He is a man past middle age, military bearing, 
 heavy mustache, ribbons in his buttonhole." 
 
 " Yes, I see : one of your regular fighting fellows." 
 
 " Very well. Go then. I shall not retire before your 
 return. Ah, I forgot; find out what they thought to- 
 night on the ' street ' about the Mutual Credit affair, 
 and what they said of the arrest of one Saint Pavin, 
 editor of ' The Financial Pilot/ and of a banker named 
 Jottras." 
 
 " Can I take a carriage ? " 
 
 " Do so." 
 
 The agent started; and he was not fairly out of the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 505 
 
 house, when the commissary, opening a door which gave 
 into a small study, called, " Felix ! " 
 
 It was his secretary, a man of about thirty, blonde, 
 with a gentle and timid countenance, having, with his 
 long coat, somewhat the appearance of a theological stu- 
 dent. He appeared immediately. 
 
 "You call me, sir?" 
 
 " My dear Felix," replied the commissary, " I have 
 seen you, sometimes, imitate very nicely all sorts of 
 hand- writings." 
 
 The secretary blushed very much, no doubt on ac- 
 count of Maxence, who was sitting by the side of his 
 employer. He was a. very honest fellow ; but there are 
 certain little talents of which people do not like to boast ; 
 and the talent of imitating the writing of others is of the 
 number, for the reason, that, fatally and at once, it sug- 
 gests the idea of forgery. 
 
 " It was only for fun that I used to do that, sir," he 
 stammered. 
 
 " Would you be here if it had been otherwise? " said 
 the commissary. " Only this time it is not for fun, but 
 to do me a favor that I wish you to try again." 
 
 And, taking out of his pocket the letter taken by M. de 
 Tregars from the man in the restaurant, 
 
 " Examine this writing," he said. " and see whether 
 you feel capable of imitating it tolerably well." 
 
 Spreading the letter under the full light of the lamp, 
 the secretary spent at least two minutes examining it 
 with the minute attention of an expert. And at the same 
 time he was muttering, 
 
 " Not at all convenient, this. Hard writing to imi- 
 tate. Not a salient feature, not a characteristic sign! 
 Nothing to strike the eye, or attract attention. It must 
 be some old lawyer's clerk who wrote this/"
 
 506 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 In spite of his anxiety of mind, the commissary 
 smiled. 
 
 " I shouldn't be surprised if you had guessed right." 
 
 Thus encouraged, 
 
 " At any rate." Felix declared, " I am going to try." 
 He took a pen, and, after trying a dozen times, 
 
 " How is this ? " he asked, holding out a sheet of 
 paper. 
 
 The commissary carefully compared the original with 
 the copy. 
 
 " It is not perfect," he murmured ; " but at night, with 
 the imagination excited by a great peril Besides, we 
 must risk something." 
 
 " If I had a few hours to practise ! " 
 
 " But you have not. Come, take up your pen, and 
 write as well as you can, in that same hand, what I am 
 going to tell you." 
 
 And after a moment's thought, he dictated as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " All goes well. T., drawn into a quarrel, is to fight 
 in the morning with swords. But our man, whom I can- 
 not leave, refuses to go ahead, unless he is paid two 
 thousand francs before the duel. I have not the amount. 
 Please hand it to the bearer, who has orders to wait for 
 you." 
 
 The commissary, leaning over his secretary's shoul- 
 der, was following his hand, and, the last word being 
 written, 
 
 " Perfect ! " he exclaimed. " Now quick, the address : 
 Mme. le Baronne de Thaller, Rue de le Pepiniere." 
 
 There are professions which extinguish, in those who 
 exercise them, all curiosity. It is with the most com- 
 plete indifference, and without asking a question, that 
 the secretary had done what he had been requested.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 507 
 
 " Now, my dear Felix," resumed the commissary, 
 "you will please get yourself up as near as possible 
 like a restaurant-waiter, and take this letter to its ad- 
 dress." 
 
 "At this hour!" 
 
 " Yes. The Baroness de Thaller is out to a ball. You 
 will tell the servants that you are bringing her an an- 
 swer concerning an important matter. They know 
 nothing about it; but they will allow you to wait for 
 their mistress in the porter's lodge. As soon as she 
 conies in, you will hand her the letter, stating that two 
 gentlemen who are taking supper in your restaurant 
 are waiting for the answer. It may be that she will ex- 
 claim that you are a scoundrel, that she does not know 
 what it means : in that case, we shall have been antici- 
 pated, and you must get away as fast as you can. But 
 the chances are, that she will give you two thousand 
 francs ; and then you must so manage, that she will be 
 seen plainly when she does it. Is it all understood ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " Go ahead, then, and do not lose a minute. I shall 
 wait." 
 
 Away from Mile. Lucienne, Maxence had gradually 
 been recalled to the strangeness of the situation ; and it 
 was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and surprise 
 that he observed the commissary acting and bustling 
 about. 
 
 The good man had found again all the activity of his 
 youth, together with that fever of hope and that im- 
 patience of success, which usually disappear with age. 
 
 He was going over the whole of the case again, his 
 first meeting with Mile. Lucienne, the various attempts 
 upon her life ; and he had just taken out of the file the 
 letter of information which had been intrusted to him, in
 
 508 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 order to compare the writing with that of the letter taken 
 from his adversary by M. de Tregars, when the latter 
 came in all out of breath. 
 
 " Zelie has spoken ! " he said. 
 
 And, at once addressing Maxence, 
 
 " You, my dear friend," he resumed, " you must run 
 to the Hotel des Folies." 
 
 " Is Lucienne worse? " 
 
 " No. Lucienne is getting on well enough. Zelie 
 has spoken ; but there is no certainty, that, after due re- 
 flection, she will not repent, and go and give the alarm. 
 You will return, therefore, and you will not lose sight 
 of her until I call for her in the morning. If she wishes 
 to go out, you must prevent her." 
 
 The commissary had understood the importance of 
 the precaution. 
 
 " You must prevent her," he added, " even by force ; 
 and I authorize you, if need be, to call upon the agent 
 whom I have placed on duty, watching the Hotel des 
 Folies, and to whom I am going to send word imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Maxence started off on a run. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " murmured Marius, " I know where 
 your father is. What are we going to learn now ? " 
 
 He had scarcely had time to communicate the infor- 
 mation he had received from Mme. Cadelle, when the 
 first of the commissary's emissaries made his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " The commission is done," he said, in that confident 
 tone of a man who thinks he has successfully accom- 
 plished a difficult task. 
 
 " You know the name of the individual who sought 
 a quarrel with M. de Tregars?" 
 
 " His name is Corvi. He is well known in all the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 509 
 
 tables d'hote, where there are women, and where they 
 deal a healthy little game after dinner. I know him well 
 too. He is a bad fellow, who passes himself off for 
 former superior officer in the Italian army." 
 
 "His address?" 
 
 " He lives at Rue de la Michodiere, in a furnished 
 house. I went there. The porter told me that my man 
 had just gone out with an ill-looking individual, and 
 that they must be in a little cafe on the corner of the next 
 street. I ran there, and found my two fellows drinking 
 beer." 
 
 " Won't they give us the slip ? " 
 
 " No danger of that : I have got them fixed." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " It is an idea of mine. I just thought, ' Suppose they 
 put off? ' And at once I went to notify some policemen, 
 and I returned to station myself near the cafe. It was 
 just closing up. My two fellows came out: I picked 
 a quarrel with them; and now they are in the station- 
 house, well recommended." 
 
 The commissary knit his brows. 
 
 " That's almost too much zeal," he murmured. " Well, 
 what's done is done. Did you make any inquiries about 
 the Saint Pavin and Jottras matter ? " 
 
 " I had no time, it was too late. You forget, perhaps, 
 sir, that it is nearly two o'clock." 
 
 Just as he got through, the secretary who had been 
 sent to the Rue de la Pepiniere came in. 
 
 " Well ? " inquired the commissary, not without evi- 
 dent anxiety. 
 
 " I waited for Mme. de Thaller over an hour," he 
 said. " When she came home, I gave her the letter. 
 She read it; and, in presence of a number of her ser- 
 vants, she handed me these two thousand francs."
 
 5io OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 At the sight of the bank notes, the commissary jumped 
 to his feet. 
 
 " Now we have it ! " he exclaimed. " Here is the 
 proof that we wanted." 
 
 X. 
 
 IT was after four o'clock when M. de Tregars was at 
 last permitted to return home. He had minutely, and at 
 length, arranged every thing with the commissary: he 
 had endeavored to anticipate every eventuality. His line 
 of conduct was perfectly well marked out, and he car- 
 ried with him the certainty that on the day which was 
 about to dawn the strange game that he was playing 
 must be finally won or lost. When he reached home, 
 
 " At last, here you are, sir ! " exclaimed his faithful 
 servant. 
 
 It was doubtless anxiety that had kept up the old man 
 all night; but so absorbed was Marius's mind, that he 
 scarcely noticed the fact. 
 
 " Did any one call in my absence? " he asked. 
 " " Yes, sir. A gentleman called during the evening, 
 M. Costeclar, who appeared very much vexed not to find 
 you in. He stated that he came on a very important 
 matter that you would know all about : and he requested 
 me to ask you to wait for him to-morrow, that is to- 
 day, by twelve o'clock." 
 
 Was M. Costeclar sent by M. de Thaller? Had the 
 manager of the Mutual Credit changed his mind? and 
 had he decided to accept the conditions which he had 
 at first rejected? In that case, it was too late. It was 
 no longer in the power of any human, being to suspend
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 511 
 
 the action of justice. Without giving any further 
 thought to that visit, 
 
 " I am worn out with fatigue," said M. de Tregars, 
 " and I am going to lie down. At eight o'clock precisely 
 you will call me." 
 
 But it was in vain that he tried to find a short respite 
 in sleep. For forty-eight hours his mind had been taxed 
 beyond measure, his nerves had been wrought up to an 
 almost intolerable degree of exaltation. 
 
 As soon as he closed his eyes, it was with a merciless 
 precision that his imagination presented to him all the 
 events which had taken place since that afternoon in 
 the Place-Royale when he had ventured to declare his 
 love to Mile. Gilberte. Who could have told him then, 
 that he would engage in that struggle, the issue of which 
 must certainly be some abominable scandal in which 
 his name would be mixed? Who could have told him, 
 that gradually, and by the very force of circumstances, 
 he would be led to overcome his repugnance, and to 
 rival the ruses and the tortuous combinations of the 
 wretches he was trying to reach ? 
 
 But he was not of those who, once engaged, regret, 
 hesitate, and draw back. His conscience reproached him 
 for nothing. It was for justice and right that he was 
 battling; and Mile. Gilberte was the prize that would 
 reward him. 
 
 Eight o'clock struck; and his servant came in. 
 
 " Run for a cab," he said : " I'll be ready in a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 He was ready, in fact, when the old servant returned ; 
 and, as he had in his pocket some of those arguments 
 that lend wings to the poorest cab-horses, in less than 
 ten minutes he had reached the Hotel des Folies.
 
 512 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " How is Mile. Lucienne ? " he inquired first of all 
 of the worthy hostess. 
 
 The intervention of the commissary of police had 
 made M. Fortin and his wife more supple than gloves, 
 and more gentle than doves. 
 
 " The poor dear child is much better," answered Mme. 
 Fortin ; " and the doctor, who has just left, now feels 
 sure of her recovery. But there is a row up there." 
 
 "A row?" 
 
 " Yes. That lady whom my husband went after last 
 night insists upon going out; and M. Maxence won't 
 let her : so that they are quarreling up there. Just listen." 
 
 The loud noise of a violent altercation could be heard 
 distinctly. M. de Tregars started up stairs, and on the 
 second-story landing he found Maxence holding on ob- 
 stinately to the railing, whilst Mme. Zelie Cadelle, red- 
 der than a peony, was trying to induce him to let her 
 pass, treating him at the same time to some of the 
 choicest epithets of her well-stocked repertory. Catch- 
 ing sight of Marius, 
 
 " Is it you," she cried, " who gave orders to keep me 
 here against my wishes? By what right? Am I your 
 prisoner? " 
 
 To irritate her would have been imprudent. 
 
 " Why did you wish to leave," said M. de Tregars 
 gently, " at the very moment when you knew that I was 
 to call for you ? " 
 
 But she interrupted him, and, shrugging her shoul- 
 ders, 
 
 "Why don't you tell the truth?" she said. "You 
 were afraid to trust me." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "You are wrong! What I promise to do I do. I
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 513 
 
 only wanted to go home to dress. Can I go in the street 
 in this costume ? " 
 
 And she was spreading out her wrapper, all fadec? 
 and stained. 
 
 " I have a carriage below," said Marius. " No one 
 will see us." 
 
 Doubtless she understood that it was useless to hes- 
 itate. 
 
 " As you please," she said. 
 
 M. de Tregars took Maxence aside, and in a hurried 
 whisper, 
 
 " You must," said he, " go at once to the Rue St. 
 Gilles, and in my name request your sister to accompany 
 you. You will take a closed carriage, and you'll go and 
 wait in the Rue St. Lazare, opposite No. 25. It may 
 be that Mile. Gilberte's assistance will become indis- 
 pensable to me. And, as Lucienne must not be left 
 alone, you will request Mme. Fortin to go and stay with 
 her." 
 
 And, without waiting for an answer, 
 
 " Let us go," he said to Mme. Cadelle. 
 
 They started ; but the young woman was far from be- 
 ing in her usual spirits. It was clear that she was re- 
 gretting bitterly having gone so far, and not having 
 been able to get away at the last moment. As the carriage 
 went on, she became paler and a frown appeared upon 
 her face. 
 
 " No matter," she began : " it's a nasty thing I am 
 doing there." 
 
 " Do you repent then, assisting me to punish your 
 friend's assassins ? " said M. de Tregars. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I know very well that old Vincent is a scoundrel,"
 
 514 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 she said ; " but he had trusted me, and I am betraying 
 him." 
 
 " You are mistaken, madame. To furnish me the 
 means of speaking to M. Favoral is not to betray him; 
 and I shall do every thing in my power to enable him 
 to escape the police, and make his way abroad." 
 
 "What a joke!" 
 
 " It is the exact truth : I give you my word of honor." 
 
 She seemed to feel easier; and, when the carriage 
 turned into the Rue St. Lazare, " Let us stop a mo- 
 ment," she said. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " So that I can buy old Vincent's breakfast. He 
 can't go out to eat, of course ; and so I have to take all 
 his meals to him." 
 
 Marius's mistrust was far from being dissipated ; and 
 yet he did not think it prudent to refuse, promising him- 
 self, however, not to lose sight of Mme. Zelie. He fol- 
 lowed her, therefore, to the baker's and the butcher's; 
 and when she had done her marketing, he entered with 
 her the house of modest appearance where she had her 
 apartment. 
 
 They were already going up stairs, when the porter 
 ran out of his lodge. 
 
 "Madame!" he said, " madame!" 
 
 Mme. Cadelle stopped. 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 " A letter for you." 
 
 "Forme?" 
 
 " Here it is. A lady brought it less than five min- 
 utes ago. Really, she looked annoyed not to find you in. 
 But she is going to come back. She knew you were 
 to be here this morning." 
 
 M. de Tregars had- also stopped.
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 515 
 
 " What kind of a looking person was this lady ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Dressed all in black, with a thick veil on her face." 
 
 " All right. I thank you." 
 
 The porter returned to his lodge. Mme. Zelie broke 
 the seal. The first envelope contained another, upon 
 which she spelt, for she did not read very fluently, 
 
 " To be handed to M. Vincent" 
 
 " Some one knows that he is hiding here," she said in 
 a tone of utter surprise. " Who can it be ? " 
 
 " Who ? Why, the woman whose reputation M. Fa- 
 voral was so anxious to spare when he put you in the 
 Rue du Cirque house." 
 
 There was nothing that irritated the young woman 
 so much as this idea. 
 
 " You are right," she said. " What a fool he made 
 of me, the old rascal! But never mind. I am going 
 to pay him for it now." 
 
 Nevertheless when she reached her story, the third, 
 and at the moment of slipping the key into the keyhole, 
 she again seemed perplexed. 
 
 " If some misfortune should happen," she sighed. 
 
 " What are you afraid of ? " 
 
 " Old Vincent has got all sorts of arms in there. He 
 has sworn to me that the first person who forced his way 
 into the apartments, he would kill him like a dog. Sup- 
 pose he should fire at us ? " 
 
 She was afraid, terribly afraid : she was livid, and her 
 teeth chattered. 
 
 " Let me go first," suggested M. de Tregars. 
 
 " No. Only, if you were a good fellow, you would 
 do what I am goin^ to ask you. Say, will you ? " 
 
 " If it can be done." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ! Here is the thing. We'll go in, to-
 
 5i6 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 gather; but you must not make any noise. There is a 
 large closet with glass doors, from which every thing 
 can be heard and seen that goes on in the large room. 
 You'll get in there. I'll go ahead, and draw out old Vin- 
 cent into the parlor, and at the right moment, v'lanl you 
 appear." 
 
 It was after all, quite reasonable. 
 
 " Agreed ! " said Marius. 
 
 " Then," she said, " every thing will go on right. 
 The entrance of the closet with the glass doors is on 
 the right as you go in. Come along now, and walk 
 easy." 
 
 And she opened the door. 
 
 XL 
 
 THE apartment was exactly as described by Mme. 
 Cadelle. In the dark and narrow ante-chamber, three 
 doors opened, on the left, that of the dining-room ; in 
 the centre, that of a parlor and bedroom which com- 
 municated ; on the right, that of the closet. M. de Tre- 
 gars slipped in noiselessly through the latter, and at once 
 recognized that Mme. Zelie had not deceived him, and 
 that he would see and hear every thing that went on in 
 the parlor. He saw the young woman walk into it. She 
 laid her provisions down upon the table, and called, 
 
 "Vincent!" 
 
 The former cashier of the Mutual Credit appeared at 
 once, coming out of the bedroom. 
 
 He was so changed, that his wife and children would 
 have hesitated in recognizing him. He had cut off his 
 beard, pulled out almost the whole of his thick eye- 
 brows, and covered his rough and straight hair under a
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 517 
 
 brown curly wig, He wore patent-leather boots, wide 
 pantaloons, and one of those short jackets of rough 
 material, and with broad sleeves which French elegance 
 has borrowed from English stable-boys. He tried to 
 appear calm, careless, and playful; but the contraction 
 of his lips betrayed a horrible anguish, and his look had 
 the strange mobility of the wild beasts' eye, when, al- 
 most at bay, they stop for a moment, listening to the 
 barking of the hounds. 
 
 " I was beginning to fear that you would disappoint 
 me," he said to Mme. Zelie. 
 
 " It took me some time to buy your breakfast." 
 
 " And is that all that kept you? " 
 
 " The porter detained me too, to hand me a letter, in 
 which I found one for you. Here it is." 
 
 " A letter ! " exclaimed Vincent Favoral. 
 
 And, snatching it from her, he tore off the envelope. 
 But he had scarcely looked over it, when he crushed 
 it in his hand, exclaiming, 
 
 " It is monstrous ! It is a mean, infamous treason ! " 
 
 He was interrupted by a violent ringing of the door- 
 bell. 
 
 " Who can it be ? " stammered Mme. Cadelle. 
 
 " I know who it is," replied the former cashier. 
 " Open, open quick." 
 
 She obeyed ; and almost at once a woman walked into 
 the parlor, wearing a cheap, black woolen dress. With 
 a sudden gesture, she threw off her veil ; and M. de Tre- 
 gars recognized the Baroness de Thaller. 
 
 " Leave us ! " she said to Mme. Zelie, in a tone which 
 one would hardly dare to assume towards a bar-maid. 
 
 The other felt indignant. 
 
 " What, what ! " she began. " I am in my own house 
 here."
 
 Si8 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " Leave us ! " repeated M. Favoral with a threaten- 
 ing gesture. " Go, go ! " 
 
 She went out but only to take refuge by the side of 
 M. de Tregars. 
 
 " You hear how they treat me," she said in a hoarse 
 voice. 
 
 He made no answer. All his attention was centred 
 upon the parlor. The Baroness de Thaller and the for- 
 mer cashier were standing opposite each other, like two 
 adversaries about to fight a duel. 
 
 " I have just read your letter," began Vincent Fa- 
 voral. 
 
 Coldly the baroness said, " Ah ! " 
 
 " It is a joke, I suppose." 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 " You refuse to go with me ? " 
 
 " Positively." 
 
 " And yet it was all agreed upon. I have acted wholly 
 under your urgent, pressing advice. How many times 
 have you repeated to me that to live with your husband 
 had become an intolerable torment to you ! How many 
 times have you sworn to me that you wished to be mine 
 alone, begging me to procure a large sum of money, 
 and to fly with you ! " 
 
 " I was in earnest at the time. I have discovered, at 
 the last moment, that it would be impossible for me thus 
 to abandon my country, my daughter, my friends." 
 
 " We can take Cesarine with us." 
 
 " Do not insist." 
 
 He was looking at her with a stupid, gloomy gaze. 
 
 " Then," he stammered, " those tears, those prayers, 
 those oaths ! " 
 
 " I have reflected."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 519 
 
 " It is not possible ! If you spoke the truth, you 
 would not be here." 
 
 " I am here to make you understand that we must 
 give up projects which cannot be realized. There are 
 some social conventionalities which cannot be torn up." 
 
 As if he scarcely understood what she said, he re- 
 peated, 
 
 " Social conventionalities ! " 
 
 And suddenly falling at Mme. de Thaller's feet, his 
 head thrown back, and his hands clasped together, 
 
 " You lie ! " he said. " Confess that you lie, and that 
 it is a final trial which you are imposing upon me. Or 
 else have you, then, never loved me ? That's impossible ! 
 I would not believe you if you were to say so. A woman 
 who does not love a man cannot be to him what you 
 have been to me: she does not give herself up thus so 
 joyously and so completely. Have you, then, forgot- 
 ten every thing? Is it possible that you do not remem- 
 ber those divine evenings in the Rue de Cirque ? those 
 nights, the mere thought of which fires my brain, and 
 consumes my blood." 
 
 He was horrible to look at, horrible and ridiculous at 
 the same time. As he wished to take Mme. de Thaller's 
 hands, she stepped back, and he followed her, dragging 
 himself on his knees. 
 
 "Where could you find," he continued, "a man to 
 worship you like me, with an ardent, absolute, blind, 
 mad passion ? With what can you reproach me ? Have 
 t not sacrificed to you without a murmur every thing 
 that a man can sacrifice here below, fortune, family, 
 aonor, to supply your extravagance, to anticipate 
 your slightest fancies, to give you gold to scatter by the 
 handful. Did I not leave my own family struggling
 
 520 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 with poverty. I would have snatched bread from my 
 children's mouths in order to purchase roses to scatter 
 under your footsteps. And for years did ever a word 
 from me betray the secret of our love? What have I 
 not endured? You deceived me. I knew it, and I said 
 nothing. Upon a word from you I stepped aside before 
 him whom your caprice made happy for a day. You 
 told me, ' Steal ! ' and I stole. You told me, ' Kill ! ' and 
 I tried to kill." 
 
 " Fly. A man who has twelve hundred thousand 
 francs in gold, bank-notes, and good securities, can al- 
 ways get along." 
 
 "And my wife and children?" 
 
 " Maxence is old enough to help his mother. Gilberte 
 will find a husband : depend upon it. Besides, what's to 
 prevent you from sending them money ? " 
 
 " They would refuse it." 
 
 " You will always be a fool, my dear ! " 
 
 To Vincent Favoral's first stupor and miserable weak- 
 ness now succeeded a terrible passion. All the blood had 
 left his face : his eyes was flashing. 
 
 " Then," he resumed, " all is really over? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Then I have been duped like the rest, like that poor 
 Marquis de Tregars, whom you had made mad also. 
 But he, at least saved his honor; whereas I And I 
 have no excuse ; for I should have known. I knew that 
 you were but the bait which the Baron de Thaller held 
 out to his victims." 
 
 He waited for an answer ; but she maintained a con- 
 temptuous silence. 
 
 " Then you think," he said with a threatening laugh, 
 "that it will all end that way?"
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 521 
 
 "What can you do?" 
 
 " There is such a thing as justice, I imagine, and 
 judges too. I can give myself up, and reveal every 
 thing." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " That would be throwing yourself into the wolf's 
 mouth for nothing," she said. " You know better than 
 any one else that my precautions are well enough taken 
 to defy any thing you can do or say. I have nothing 
 to fear." 
 
 " Are you quite sure of that ? " 
 
 " Trust to me," she said with a smile of perfect se- 
 curity. 
 
 The former cashier of the Mutual Credit made a ter- 
 rible gesture; but, checking himself at once, he seized 
 one of the baroness's hands. She withdrew it quickly, 
 however, and, in an accent of insurmountable disgust, 
 
 " Enough, enough ! " she said. 
 
 In the adjoining closet Marius de Tregars could feel 
 Mme. Zelie Cadelle shuddering by his side. 
 
 " What a wretch that woman is ! " she murmured ; 
 " and he what a base coward ! " 
 
 The former cashier remained prostrated, striking the 
 floor with his head. 
 
 " And you would forsake me," he groaned, " when 
 we are united by a past such as ours ! How could you 
 replace me? Where would you find a slave so devoted 
 to your every wish ? " 
 
 The baroness was getting impatient. 
 
 " Stop ! " she interrupted, " stop these demonstra- 
 tions as useless as ridiculous." 
 
 This time he did start up, as if lashed with a whip, 
 and, double locking the door which communicated with
 
 522 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 the ante-chamber, he put the key in his pocket; and, 
 with a step as stiff and mechanical as that of an automa- 
 ton, he disappeared in the sleeping-room. 
 
 " He. is going for a weapon," whispered Mme. Ca- 
 delle. 
 
 It was also what Marius thought. 
 
 " Run down quick," he said to Mme. Zelie. " In a 
 cab standing opposite No. 25, you will find Mile. Gil- 
 berte Favoral waiting. Let her come at once." 
 
 And, rushing into the parlor, 
 
 " Fly ! " he said to Mme. Thaller. 
 
 But she was as petrified by this apparition. 
 
 " M. de Tregars ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, me. But hurry and go ! " 
 
 And he pushed her into the closet. 
 
 It was but time. Vincent Favoral reappeared upon 
 the threshold of the bedroom. But, if it was a weapon 
 he had gone for, it was not for the one which Marius 
 and Mme. Cadelle supposed. It was a bundle of papers 
 which he held in his hand. Seeing M. de Tregars there, 
 instead of Mme. de Thaller, an exclamation of terror 
 and surprise rose to his lips. He understood vaguely 
 what must have taken place; that the man who stood 
 there must have been concealed in the glass closet, and 
 that he had assisted the baroness to escape. 
 
 " Ah the miserable wretch ! " he stammered with a 
 tongue made thick by passion, " the infamous wretch ! 
 She has betrayed me; she has surrendered me. I am 
 lost!" 
 
 Mastering the most terrible emotion he had ever 
 felt 
 
 " No, no ! you shall not be surrendered," uttered M. 
 de Tregars. 
 
 Collecting all the energy that the devouring passion
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 523 
 
 which had blasted his existence had left him, the former 
 cashier of the Mutual Credit took one or two steps for- 
 ward. 
 
 " Who are you, then ? " he asked. 
 
 " Do you not know me ? I am the son of that un- 
 fortunate Marquis de Tregars of whom you spoke a 
 moment since. I am Lucienne's brother." 
 
 Like a man who has received a stunning blow, Vin- 
 cent Favoral sank heavily upon a chair. 
 
 " He knows all," he groaned. 
 
 "Yes, all!" 
 
 " You must hate me mortally." 
 
 " I pity you." 
 
 The old cashier had reached that point when all the 
 faculties, after being strained to their utmost limits, sud- 
 denly break down, when the strongest man gives up, and 
 weeps like a child. 
 
 " Ah, I am the most wretched of villains ! " he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 He had hid his face in his hands ; and in one second, 
 as it happens, they say, to the dying on the threshold 
 of eternity, he reviewed his entire existence. 
 
 " And yet," he said, " I had not the soul of a villain. 
 I wanted to get rich, but honestly, by labor, and by rigid 
 economy. And I should have succeeded. I had a hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand francs of my own when I met 
 the Baron de Thaller. Alas! why did I meet him? 
 'Twas he who first gave me to understand that it was 
 stupid to work and save, when, at the bourse, with mod- 
 erate luck, one might become a millionaire in six 
 months." 
 
 He stopped, shook his head, and suddenly, 
 
 " Do you know the Baron de Thaller? " he asked. 
 
 And, without giving Marius time to answer,
 
 524 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " He is a German," he went on, " a Prussian. His 
 father was a cab-driver in Berlin, and his mother wait- 
 ing-maid in a brewery. At the age of eighteen, he was 
 compelled to leave his country, owing to some petty 
 swindle, and came to take up his residence in Paris. He 
 found employment in the office of a stock-broker, and 
 was living very poorly, when he made the acquaintance 
 of a young laundress named Euphrasie, who had for a 
 lover a very wealthy gentleman, the Marquis d^ Tre- 
 gars, whose weakness was to pass himself off for * poor 
 clerk. Euphrasie and Thaller were well calculated to 
 agree. They did agree, and formed an association, she 
 contributing her beauty; he, his genius for intrigue; 
 both, their corruption and their vices. Soon after they 
 met, she gave birth to a child, a daughter, whom she in- 
 trusted to some poor gardeners at Louveciennes, with 
 the firm and settled intention to leave her there forever. 
 And yet it was upon this daughter, whom they firmly 
 hoped never to see again, that the two accomplices were 
 building their fortune. 
 
 " It was in the name of that daughter that Euphrasie 
 wrung considerable sums from the Marquis de Tregars. 
 As soon as Thaller and she found themselves in posses- 
 sion of six hundred thousand francs, they dismissed the 
 marquis, and got married. Already, at that time, Thal- 
 ler had taken the title of baron, and lived in some style. 
 But his first speculations were not successful. The rev- 
 olution of 1848 finished his ruin, and he was about be- 
 ing expelled from the bourse, when he found me on his 
 way, I, poor fool, who was going about everywhere, 
 asking how I could advantageously invest my hundred 
 and fifty thousand francs." 
 
 He was speaking in a hoarse voice, shaking his
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 525 
 
 clinched fist in the air, doubtless at the Baron de 
 Thaller. 
 
 " Unfortunately," he resumed, " it was only much 
 later that I discovered all this. At the moment, M. de 
 Thaller dazzled me. His friends, Saint Pavin and the 
 bankers Jottras, proclaimed him the smartest and the 
 most honest man in France. Still I would not have 
 given my money, if it had not been for the baroness. 
 The first time that I was introduced to her, and that she 
 fixed upon me her great black eyes, I felt myself moved 
 to the deepest recesses of my soul. In order to see her 
 again, I invited her, together with her husband and her 
 husband's friends, to dine with me, by the side of my 
 wife and children. She came. Her husband made me 
 sign every thing he pleased; but, as she went off, she 
 pressed my hand." 
 
 He was still shuddering at the recollection of it, the 
 poor fellow ! 
 
 " The next day," he went on, " I handed to Thaller all 
 I had in the world; and, in exchange, he gave me the 
 position of cashier in the Mutual Credit, which he had 
 just founded. He treated me like an inferior, and did 
 not admit me to visit his family. But I didn't care : the 
 baroness had permitted me to see her again, and almost 
 every afternoon I met her at the Tuileries; and I had 
 made bold to tell her that I loved her to desperation. 
 At last, one evening, she consented to make an appoint- 
 ment with me for the second following day, in an apart- 
 ment which I had rented. 
 
 " The day before I was to meet her, and whilst I was 
 beside myself with joy, the Baron de Thaller requested 
 me to assist him, by means of certain irregular entries, 
 to conceal a deficit arising from unsuccessful specula-
 
 526 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 tions. How could I refuse a man, whom, as I thought, 
 I was about to deceive grossly ! I did as he wished. The 
 next day Mme. de Thaller became my mistress; and I 
 was a lost man." 
 
 Was he trying to exculpate himself ? Was he merely 
 yielding to that imperious sentiment, more powerful 
 than the will or the reason, which impels the criminal 
 to reveal the secret which oppresses him? 
 
 " From that day," he went on, " began for me the tor- 
 ment of that double existence which I underwent for 
 years. I had given to my mistress all I had in the world ; 
 and she was insatiable. She wanted money always, any 
 way, and in heaps. She made me buy the house in the 
 Rue du Cirque for our meetings ; and, between the de- 
 mands of the husband and those of the wife, I was al- 
 most insane. I drew from the funds of the Mutual 
 Credit as from an inexhaustible mine ; and, as I foresaw 
 that some day must come when all would be discovered, 
 I always carried about me a loaded revolver, with which 
 to blow out my brains when they came to arrest me." 
 
 And he showed to Marius the handle of a revolve* 
 protruding from his pocket. 
 
 " And if only she had been faithful to me ! " he con- 
 tinued, becoming more and more animated. " But what 
 have I not endured! When the Marquis de Tregars 
 returned to Paris, and they set about defrauding him of 
 his fortune, she did not hesitate a moment to become his 
 mistress again. She used to tell me, ' What a fool you 
 are! all I want is his money. I love no one but you.' 
 But after his death she took others. She made use of 
 our house in the Rue du Cirque for purposes of dissi- 
 pation for herself and her daughter Cesarine. And I 
 miserable coward that I was ! I suffered all, so much 
 did I tremble to lose her, so much did I fear to be weaned
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 527 
 
 from the semblance of love with which she paid my fear- 
 ful sacrifices. And now she would betray me, forsake 
 me ! For every thing that has taken place was suggested 
 by her in order to procure a sum wherewith to fly to 
 America. It was she who imagined the wretched com- 
 edy which I played, so as to throw upon myself the 
 whole responsibility. M. de Thaller has had millions for 
 his share: I have only had twelve hundred thousand 
 francs." 
 
 Violent nervous shudders shook his frame: his face 
 became purple. He drew himself up, and, brandishing 
 the letters which he held in his hand, 
 
 " But all is not over ! " he exclaimed. " There are 
 proofs which neither the baron nor his wife know that I 
 have. I have the proof of the infamous swindle of 
 which the Marquis de Tregars was the victim. I have 
 the proof of the farce got up by M. de Thaller and my- 
 self to defraud the stockholders of the Mutual Credit ! " 
 
 " What do you hope for? " 
 
 He was laughing a stupid laugh. 
 
 " I ? I shall go and hide myself in some suburb of 
 Paris, and write to Euphrasie to come. She knows that 
 I have twelve hundred thousand francs. She will come ; 
 and she will keep coming as long as I have any money. 
 And when I have no more " 
 
 He stopped short, starting back, his arms outstretched 
 as if to repel a terrifying apparition. Mile. Gilberte had 
 just appeared at the door. 
 
 " My daughter ! " stammered the wretch. " Gilberte I" 
 
 " The Marquise de Tregars," uttered Marius. 
 
 An inexpressible look of terror and anguish convulsed 
 the features of Vincent Favoral : he guessed that it was 
 the end. 
 
 " What do you want with me? " he stammered-
 
 528 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 " The money that you have stolen, father," replied the 
 girl in an inexorable tone of voice, " the twelve hun- 
 dred thousand francs which you have here, then the 
 proofs which are in your hands, and, finally your wea- 
 pons." 
 
 He was trembling from head to foot. 
 
 " Take away my money ! " he said. " Why, that 
 would be compelling me to give myself up! Do you 
 wish to see me in prison ? " 
 
 " The disgrace would fall back upon your children, 
 sir," said M. de Tregars. " We shall, on the contrary ^ 
 do every thing in the world to enable you to evade the 
 pursuit of the police." 
 
 " Well, yes, then. But to-morrow I must write to 
 Euphrasie : I must see her ! " 
 
 " You have lost your mind, father," said Mile. Gil- 
 berte. " Come, do as I ask you." 
 
 He drew himself up to his full height. 
 
 "And suppose I refuse?" 
 
 But it was the last effort of his will. He yielded, 
 though not without an agonizing struggle and gave up 
 to his daughter the money, the proofs and the arms. 
 And as she was walking away, leaning on M. de Tre- 
 gars' arm, 
 
 " But send me your mother, at least," he begged. 
 " She will understand me : she will not be without pity. 
 She is my wife: let her come quick. I will not, I can 
 not remain alone." 
 
 XII. 
 
 IT was with convulsive haste that the Baroness de 
 Thaller went over the distance that separated the Rue 
 St. Lazare from the Rue de la Pepiniere. The sudden
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 529 
 
 intervention of M. de Tregars had upset all her ideas. 
 The most sinister presentiments agitated her mind. In 
 the courtyard of her residence, all the servants, gathered 
 in a group, were talking. They did not take the trouble 
 to stand aside to let her pass ; and she even noticed some 
 smiles and ironical gigglings. This was a terrible blow 
 to her. What was the matter ? What had they heard ? 
 In the magnificent vestibule, a man was sitting as she 
 came in. It was the same suspicious character that 
 Marius de Tregars had seen in the grand parlor, in close 
 conference with the baroness. 
 
 " Bad news." he said with a sheepish look. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That little Lucienne must have her soul riveted to 
 her body. She is only wounded ; and she'll get over it." 
 
 " Never mind Lucienne. What about M. de Tre- 
 gars?" 
 
 " Oh ! he is another sharp one. Instead of taking up 
 our man's provocation, he collared him, and took away 
 from him the note I had sent him." 
 
 Mme. de Thaller started violently. 
 
 " What is the meaning, then," she asked, " of your 
 letter of last night, in which you requested me to hand 
 two thousand francs to the bearer? " 
 
 The man became pale as death. 
 
 "You received a letter from me," he stammered, 
 "last night?" 
 
 " Yes, from you ; and I gave the money." 
 
 The man struck his forehead. 
 
 " I understand it all ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " They wanted proofs. They imitated my handwrit- 
 ing, and you swallowed the bait. That's the reason 
 why I spent the night in the station-house ; and, if they
 
 530 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 let me go this morning, it was to find out where I'd go. 
 I have been followed, they are shadowing me. We are 
 gone up, Mme. le Baronne. Sauve qui pent! " 
 
 And he ran out. 
 
 More agitated than ever Mme. de Thaller went up 
 stairs. In the little red-and-gold parlor, the Baron de 
 Thaller and Mile. Cesarine were waiting for her. 
 Stretched upon an arm-chair, her legs crossed, the tip 
 of her boot on a level with her eye, Mile. Cesarine, with 
 a look of ironical curiosity, was watching her father, 
 who, livid and trembling with nervous excitement, was 
 walking up and down, like a wild beast in his cage. As 
 soon as the baroness appeared, 
 
 " Things are going badly," said her husband, " very 
 badly. Our game is devilishly compromised." 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " I am but too sure of it. Such a well-combined 
 stroke too ! But every thing is against us. In presence 
 of the examining magistrate, Jottras held out well ; but 
 Saint Pavin spoke. That dirty rascal was not satisfied 
 with the share allotted to him. On the information fur- 
 nished by him, Costeclar was arrested this morning. 
 And Costeclar knows all, since he has been your confi- 
 dant, Vincent Favoral's, and my own. When a man has, 
 like him, two or three forgeries in his record, he is sure 
 to speak. He will speak. Perhaps he has already done 
 so, since the police has taken possession of Latterman's 
 office, with whom I had organized the panic and the 
 tumble in the Mutual Credit stock. What can we do to 
 ward off this blow?" 
 
 With a surer glance than her husband, Mme. de 
 Thaller had measured the situation. 
 
 " Do not try to ward it off," she replied : " It would be 
 useless."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 531 
 
 "Because?" 
 
 " Because M. de Tregars has found Vincent Favoral ; 
 because, at this very moment, they are together, ar- 
 ranging their plans." 
 
 The baron made a terrible gesture. 
 
 " Ah, thunder and lightning ! " he exclaimed. " I 
 always told you that this stupid fool, Favoral, would 
 cause our ruin. It was so easy for you to find an occa- 
 sion for him to blow his brains out." 
 
 " Was it so difficult for you to accept, M. de Tregars' 
 offers?" 
 
 " It was you who made me refuse." 
 
 " Was it me, too, who was so anxious to get rid of 
 Lucienne ? " 
 
 For years, Mile. Cesarine had not seemed so amused ; 
 and, in a half whisper, she was humming the famous 
 tune, from " The Pearl of Poutoise," 
 
 " Happy accord ! Happy couple ! " 
 
 M. de Thaller, beside himself, was advancing to 
 seize the baroness : she was drawing back, knowing him, 
 perhaps to be capable of any thing, when suddenly there 
 was a violent knocking at the door. 
 
 " In the name of the law ! " 
 
 It was a commissary of police. 
 
 And, whilst surrounded by agents, they were taken to 
 a cab. 
 
 " Orphan on both sides ! " exclaimed Mile. Cesarine, 
 " I am free, then. Now we'll have some fun ! " 
 
 At that very moment, M. de Tregars and Mile. Gil- 
 berte reached the Rue St. Gilles. 
 
 Hearing that her husband had been found, 
 " I must see him ! " exclaimed Mme. Favoral.
 
 532 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 
 
 And, in spite of any thing they could tell her, she 
 threw a shawl over her shoulders, and started with Mile. 
 Gilberte. 
 
 When they had entered Mme. Zelie's apartment, of 
 which they had a key, they found in the parlor, with his 
 back towards them, Vincent Favoral sitting at the table, 
 leaning forward, and apparently writing. Mme. Fa- 
 voral approached on tiptoe, and over her husband's 
 shoulder she read what he had just written, 
 
 " Euphrasie, my beloved, eternally-adored mistress, 
 will you forgive me ? The money that I was keeping for 
 you, my darling, the proofs which will crush your hus- 
 band they have taken every thing from me, basely, by 
 force. And it is my daughter " 
 
 He had stopped there. Surprised at his immobility, 
 Mme. Favoral called, 
 
 "Vincent!" 
 
 He made no answer. She pushed him with her finger. 
 He rolled to the ground. He was dead. 
 
 Three months later the great Mutual Credit suit was 
 tried before the Sixth Court. The scandal was great; 
 but public curiosity was strangely disappointed. As in 
 most of these financial affairs, justice, whilst exposing 
 the most audacious frauds, was not able to unravel the 
 true secret. 
 
 She managed, at least, to lay hands upon every thing 
 that the Baron de Thaller had hoped to save. That 
 worthy was condemned to five years' prison ; M. Coste- 
 clar got off with three years ; and M. Jottras with two. 
 M. Saint Pavin was acquitted. 
 
 Arrested for subornation of murder, the former 
 Marquise de Javelle the Baroness de Thaller, was re- 
 leased for want of proper proof. But, implicated in the
 
 OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY 533 
 
 suit against her husband, she lost three- fourths of her 
 fortune, and is now living with her daughter, whose 
 debut is announced at the Bouffes-Parisiens, or at the 
 Delassements-C antiques. 
 
 Already, before that time, Mile. Lucienne, com- 
 pletely restored, had married Maxence Favoral. 
 
 Of the five hundred thousand francs which were re- 
 turned to her, she applied three hundred thousand to dis- 
 charge the debts of her father-in-law, and with the rest 
 she induced her husband to emigrate to America. 
 
 Paris had become odious to both. 
 
 Marius and Mile. Gilberte, who has now become 
 Marquise de Tregars, have taken up their residence at 
 the Chateau de Tregars, three leagues from Quimper. 
 They have been followed in their retreat by Mme. Fa- 
 voral and by General Count de Villegre. 
 
 The greater portion of his father's fortune, Marius 
 had applied to pay off all the personal creditors of the 
 former cashier of the Mutual Credit, all the trades-peo- 
 ple, and also M. Chapelain, old man Desormeaux, and 
 M. and Mme. Desclavettes. 
 
 All that is left to the Marquis and Marquise de Tre- 
 gars is some twenty thousand francs a year, and if they 
 ever lose them, it will not be at the bourse. 
 
 The Mutual Credit is quoted at 467.25 ! 
 
 THE END.
 
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