. OF CALIF. LTB*4T?Y, LOS ANGELES
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 A Rom OF THE PRISOH AKD TEE BOUDOIR, 
 
 BY 
 
 FORTUNE DUBOISGOBEY, 
 
 ATJTHOB OF "PABISIAN DETECTITB," <tc., <feo. 
 
 NEW YOKE: 
 
 HURST & CO., PUBLISHED, 
 122 NASSAU ST,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. A FIBST GLIMPSE OF THE BEQUEST, 3 
 
 II. THE STRICKEN DEER, - - - - 10 
 
 HI. A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE, - - - - 17 
 
 IV. THE QUEEN OF THE LIONS, - - . -27 
 
 V. A NEW MONTE CBISTO, - ... 31 
 
 VI. THE BRAZIER OF CHAECOAL, - - - 40 
 
 VII. A MILLIONAIRE'S PERPLEXITIES, ... 48 
 
 VIII. A HOUGH WOOING, - - - 52 
 
 IX. POVEIITY'S BANKER, - - - - 59 
 
 X. PLANS FOB THE FUTUBE, - - - - 65 
 
 XI. A STUMBLE ON THE THRESHOLD, - .78 
 
 XII. AN UNHOLY COMPACT, - - - - 86 
 
 XIII. A SLIGHTED WOMAN, PC 
 
 XIV. A FORCED SALE, ... 103 
 XV. " HALVES, " - - 114 
 
 XVI. THE LUKE OF THE FOWLEB, - 121 
 
 XVII. A PARISIAN SERAGLIO, .... 126 
 
 XVIII. IN THE TIGER'S CAGE, - 129 
 
 XIX. "CAN WE NOT TRUST EACH OTHER?" - - 135 
 
 XX. A PENNT-A-LlNEB, - 146 
 
 XXI. THE MUBDER AT MONTMARTBE, - 154 
 
 XXII. " AND SLANDER WITH HER VENOMED TONGUE, " 164 
 
 XXIII. A FIRST NIGHT, - 170 
 
 XXIV. A SCENE FROM ANTIQUE HOME, - - 181 
 XXV. A SCENE IN MODERN PARIS, 188 
 
 XXVI. WHAT THEY CAUGHT IN THE TRAP. - 199 
 
 XXVII. "A SKELETON FORM LAY MOULDERING THERE," 203 
 
 XXVIII. PIERRE TBOUILLAJUD SPEAKS, 214 
 
 XXIX. HUNTED DOWN, - - -223 
 
 XXX. A WOMAN'S DEVOTION, - - 233 
 
 XXXI. TROUILLARD'S DAUGHTKU, - - 243 
 
 EPILOGUE ...... 250
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE BEQUEST. 
 
 A BRIGHT December day, a clear blue sky overhead, and 
 a cold, invigorating breeze blowing, one of those days 
 on which the Parisians love to walk on the boulevards. 
 
 The men bury their hands in the pockets of their over- 
 coats, and with their sticks tucked away under their arm, 
 move along briskly, in order to promote circulation. The 
 women make the heels of their little boots ring on the 
 asphalte, and as they gaze in at the shop windows cast 
 sly glances at the passers-by through their veils. There 
 is nothing more pleasant in life than to be able to go 
 wherever one's fancy leads one, and to have no given duty 
 to perform. 
 
 The prisoners in Mazas are taking exercise, too, but in 
 rather a different manner. In this age of progress, prison 
 arrangements have been brought to a pitch of perfection; 
 and the difficult problem has been solved of enabling 
 many different persons to take exercise at the same time, 
 and in the same plot of ground, without catching a 
 glimpse of each other, and this, too, is done without cov- 
 ering the prisoner's head with a hood, as is done in the 
 Belgian Penitentiaries. The plan upon which the prison 
 of Mazas is built somewhat resembles an open fan, which 
 has six sticks, represented by six long three-storied gal- 
 leries, all converging to one common point, which forms 
 
 2129408
 
 4: THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 the button at the handle of the fan. Outside, in the space 
 between the galleries, exercise grounds have been formed. 
 Each of these is in the form of a wheel, the nave of which 
 is a tower, upon the summit of which stands a warder, 
 whilst the spokes are the exercise grounds, separated one 
 from the other by high walls. They run from the central 
 tower to a gate at which another warder is posted. Dur- 
 ing the hour allotted for exercise, the prisoners are placed 
 in these open passages like bears in a pit, without any 
 possibility of communicating with their next door neigh- 
 bors. They are brought from their cells, and taken back 
 again after the expiration of the hour, without crossing 
 each other on the way. The poor caged birds march 
 backwards and forwards in these triangular spaces, in 
 which they cannot take more than fifteen steps in the 
 same direction, with melancholy faces, trampling the 
 gravel under foot, and seeking for the shade in summer 
 and the sun in winter. Some smoke; those, that is, that 
 have a few pence to buy tobacco, whilst others talk to 
 themselves. They do not shout out or sing, for it is for- 
 bidden, and they have besides no inclination to do so. 
 They drag themselves slowly along, with their backs bent 
 as though carrying some ponderous burden. The whole 
 enormous weight of the prison seems to be placed on their 
 shoulders. Many of them do not even attempt to think, 
 but live mechanically, like wild beasts in a cage. But 
 there is no rule without an exception, and one day, 
 towards the end of last year, the warder was sur- 
 prised to see, from his post of observation, one of the 
 prisoners walking in his exercise ground with an easy, 
 careless step. He was smoking a cigar, and every now 
 and then he would stop to watch the spiral curls of smoke 
 float away in the air. He looked more like a gentleman 
 who had just eaten an excellent breakfast, and was stroll- 
 ing about to promote digestion, than a prisoner. 
 
 This contented prisoner wore a comfortable great coat 
 with a fur collar; he had a travelling cap on his head, and 
 looked like a Russian prince on his travels. 
 
 " He must be some financier who has ruined his poor 
 dupes of shareholders, or a cashier who has robbed the 
 till; the poor devils on the other side, shivering in their 
 blouses, are worth a dozen of him," thought the warder,
 
 THE FELON'S BEQTJEST. 6 
 
 as he every now and again caught sight of the man in the 
 fur-collared coat. 
 
 But the prisoner had never been either a cashier or a 
 rich financier, although he made a good deal of money. 
 George Cransac was simply an outside operator on the 
 Stock Exchange, and an unfortunate event had caused him 
 to be arrested and remanded. His employer's signature 
 had been imitated on a check, and the forgery had been 
 detected the day after it had been paid. It was no use 
 for Crausac to protest that he had been mistaken for 
 some one bearing a resemblance to him; he was given in 
 charge at once, and for the last ten days had been in 
 Mazas prison. But his last examination had turned out 
 favorable to him, and he had been able to prove to the 
 magistrate that at the time when the unknown forger 
 was cashing the check at the Credit Lyonnais, he, Cran- 
 sac, was taking instructions from one of his employer's 
 clients who resided in the Avenue of the Bois cle Boulogne. 
 An alibi being thus proved, the order for his release 
 might be expected at any moment. He had good reason, 
 therefore, to feel comfortable, for it is easier to enter 
 Mazas than to leave it. 
 
 He had not really suffered much, for knowing that he 
 was quite innocent, he never believed that he would 
 remain in prison for long. He had even seized the oppor- 
 tunity of his stay in the grim precincts of the prison to 
 take various mental notes, with which he made up his 
 mind to regale his friends when he should be once again 
 outside the walls; for he imagined that he would be 
 received by them on his release like a shipwrecked 
 mariner cast upon some unknown coast. 
 
 At twenty-five years of age a man always looks on the 
 bright side of things, and George Cransac had been 
 twenty-five, six weeks ago. He was clever, good-looking, 
 and a favorite with the fair sex, and earned money 
 enough to satisfy all his pleasures. Why, then, should 
 he not look on the rosy side of life ? As he walked quickly 
 backwards and forwards, thinking of the manner in which 
 he would employ his first day of liberty, a pebble thrown 
 over the wall fell at his feet. A second, and then a third 
 followed. 
 
 " Halloa ! " said he, in a low voice; " here is my next 
 door neighbor asking for a cigar." He had a good stock
 
 6 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 of tobacco in his cell, and he had been in the habit of 
 throwing one or two over to the unlucky fellow who 
 signified his presence in the way described. 
 
 Prisoners pass some objects, and even letters, to each 
 other by this means. All they have to do is to watch for 
 the moment when the warder's back is turned. Cransac 
 had learned from notes written without the slightest 
 regard to either grammar or spelling, that his neighbor 
 was going to be tried at the sessions. But he did not 
 know of what offence he had been guilty, nor did he care 
 to do so. The day before, however, he had thought 
 proper to send a message by the same route, and had 
 thrown over a piece of paper wrapped round a pebble, 
 upon which he had written before leaving his cell : " Do 
 not throw anything more over. I shall not be here, and 
 your letters might fall into the hands of another prisoner, 
 who would possibly report you." 
 
 This time Cransac threw over a packet of cigars as a 
 farewell gift. 
 
 The message arrived in safety at its destination, and the 
 manoeuvre escaped the vigilance of the warder at his post 
 of observation. 
 
 Cransac thought that this would wind up his relations 
 with the rogue on the other side, but to his surprise he 
 received a fresh packet as soon as the warder had again 
 turned his back. This time it was a big ball of paper 
 sufficiently heavy to be tossed over without the usual 
 accompanying stone. Cransac hastened to pick it up and 
 put it in his pocket. He was certain that in the ball of 
 paper a letter was concealed, which he could not read 
 whilst in the exercise yard without fear of detection, but 
 which he could easily peruse on his return to his cell, for 
 he was anxious to learn what the malefactor had to write 
 to him about. 
 
 " I expect that he takes me for one of his own stamp," 
 thought he, " and knowing that I am going out to-morrow, 
 has entrusted me with some commission for some one of 
 his accomplices. I will take care to have nothing to do 
 with it, but I will preserve his signature as a remembrance 
 of my trip to Mazas." 
 
 Cransac had done well in concealing his neighbor's 
 missive, for eleven o'clock struck, and the hour of exer- 
 cise was over. A warder opened the gate that led into the
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 7 
 
 gallery in which his cell was situated, and beckoned him 
 to come in. 
 
 The warder who had charge of him, before turning the 
 key of his cell, whispered in his ear words which sounded 
 like the sweetest music. " Good news ! " said he. " The 
 order for your release has come, and in ten minutes you 
 will be sent for to receive the order for your discharge." 
 
 " At last then," cried Cransac, as soon as he found him- 
 self alone, " I am going back to the society of honest 
 people. How pleasant it will be once again to associate 
 with my old friends and companions ! They did not put 
 themselves out much to come and see me in Queer Street, 
 but I am not angry with them. The busy life of Paris 
 carries a man along toofast to enable him to stop and pick up 
 those who fall by the way. But I am on my legs again, 
 thank goodness, and everyone will hold out their hands 
 to me." Then, as he remembered the letter he had in his 
 pocket, he said to himself: " I have half a mind to burn 
 it; but there I run no risk by reading it, so here goes." 
 
 He untied the ball, and on a greasy piece of paper, in 
 which a candle had evidently been wrapped, he read these 
 words: "I expect you are a swell-faker ' " 
 
 "What does he mean by that ? Ah, I have it. He means 
 a first-class thief. Well my neighbor is complimentary. 
 Let us go on : ' But you are a safe pal, and your weeds are 
 invmenetikoff. I go before the beaks next week, and am in 
 for a stretch of twenty years, and as I am fifty now, I 
 shall never again cross the herring pond; the noses have 
 come the artful over me. I shan't leave my swag to the 
 gang no fear, I'll make you my heir; and this is where I 
 have stowed it J 
 
 " His swag ?" muttered George. " What does my friend 
 of the exercise-yard mean by that ? It must be a slang 
 term, and my education in that line has been neglected. 
 Here is a good opportunity to commence my studies. 
 Let me see how he goes on." 
 
 " 'I tell you my swag is worth the trouble of fishing up. 
 You are, I expect, about stumped, and will be glad enough 
 to grab it. That ain't a hard matter. All you have to do 
 is to take a walk to Montmartre one night. You must 
 climb the hill by the steps at the end of the Eue Germain 
 Pilon. After that you will leave the Montmartre Town 
 Hall on the right hand, go up the Eue Kavignan, then turn
 
 8 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 to the right into the Rue Gabrielle. In the middle of it 
 you will see on your left a kind of a garden, closed by a 
 rotten wooden gate. Put your shoulder to it, and it will 
 give ; then go through the trees, until you come to a house 
 standing up all alone, like a ninepin. The crib has three 
 floors, with only one window in each storey. It has been 
 unoccupied for the last twenty years, and is falling to 
 bits ' 
 
 " Good," muttered Cransac. " So the swag is money 
 that he has hidden in a ruined house. A nice little walk 
 he suggests to me 1 
 
 " * On the ground floor you will find a door without 
 bolt or lock. You have only to push it to get in. You 
 will see in front of you a brass plate at the back of the 
 chimney, all black with soot. In the top of the plate is a 
 large iron pin. Turn it three times, and then pull it 
 down, and the plate will open like the lid of a desk ' 
 
 " Good very good. It gets interesting. 
 
 " 'I ain't agoing to tell you what you'll find behind it. 
 You'll see what you will see, and you'll have a real good 
 spree with it. Oh, lor ! it's me what would have had the 
 spree, if I hadn't been fool enough to have got nabbed 
 over a job that didn't bring in four sous. But I'd rather 
 you had it than anyone else. And don't you fret that I 
 shall ever come back and ask for my regulars. I shall go 
 off the hooks in New Caledonia, and even if I didn't, I 
 couldn't find you, for I have never clapped eyes on your 
 mug, and don't even know your name ' 
 
 " And a good thing, too. I am nearly at the end. 
 
 " ' I had a daughter once, but she slung her hook five 
 years ago. The minx was ashamed of her old dad. I 
 didn't take no pains to go after her, you may guess. She 
 might have ridden in her own carriage with my bequest, 
 and now she will end with a workhouse burial. That'll 
 teach her to be stuck up. Keep it all, old pal, and spend 
 it like a man. "When I shall be over there, it'll cheer me 
 up to think that the beaks ain't got the swag. Good luck 
 to you, and down with the noses I 
 
 "' PIERRE."' 
 
 Cransac had had some difficulty in understanding that 
 swag meant money, but he knew at once that " Down with 
 the noses" signified " down with the informers," for he 
 had read this threat dozens of times scrawled on the
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 9 
 
 walls of the exercise-ground and of his cell. There was 
 a postscript to this strange letter: "If you come across a 
 chap named Troche, a fellow that is always loafing about 
 the boulevards, you might break every bone in his skin for 
 me. It was him as sold me." 
 
 Cransac could hardly restrain a laugh at this last recom- 
 mendation, and was about to read the letter over again 
 for his amusement, when the clash of bolts and bars 
 warned him that the turnkey was about to make his 
 appearance, and he had only just the time to conceal it in 
 his pocket when the man came in. 
 
 "It is all right," said the warder. "You are wanted at 
 the office. Take up your bundle, and come along." 
 
 His bundle was not very heavy; he had only the clothes 
 in which he stood, and a little linen which he had hastily 
 packed up. He followed the jailer, and more than once 
 asked himself if they would not search him, and find the 
 letter of the worthy Pierre, the enemy of informers. But 
 they do not search prisoners who are leaving Mazas, and 
 his order of discharge was read to him with all due for- 
 mality, and the door was opened for his exit, after his 
 watch and money had been returned to him. 
 
 Once again he found himself standing, with his bundle 
 in his hand, on the Parisian pavement, half stunned by 
 the din of carriages which filled the vicinity of the Lyons 
 terminus. But he soon pulled himself together, and pre- 
 pared once again to enter that life from which the warrant 
 for his arrest had so roughly removed him. It seemed to 
 him as if he had had an unpleasant dream, and that now he 
 had woke up, all that he had to do was to pick up his con- 
 nection and set to work once more. He glanced at a 
 neighboring clock, and saw that it was half-past eleven, 
 so that he would have plenty of time to reach the 
 Exchange in time for its opening, and he felt sure that all 
 his friends would receive him with open arms. He there- 
 fore hailed a cab, and ordered the driver to go to the 
 Bourse, as he intended appearing there before going to his 
 own rooms.
 
 10 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 THE STBICKEN DEKB. 
 
 CBANSAC had not deceived himself when he imagined 
 that his reappearance on 'Change would create a sensa- 
 tion. As he ascended the main staircase he saw some of 
 the most assiduous frequenters who know him by sight 
 looking at him with an air of profound astonishment; but 
 he noticed that not one of them gave him the usual greet- 
 ing of busy stock-brokers a slight nod of the head. 
 Under the Colonade matters were worse. He fell into 
 the midst of a group of " outside operators," who scat- 
 tered on all sides at his approach. When he arrived at 
 the corner where his best customers were in the habit of 
 congregating, those to whom he bowed turned their 
 backs on him. At last he recognized a friend who worked 
 for the same broker as he did, and who was pushing his 
 way through the crowd, with his note-book in his hand 
 and his pencil behind his ear. This man had been his 
 boon companion, and Cransac caught him by the arm, 
 and stopped him, saying: " What do you mean by cut- 
 ting me like this ? " 
 
 " Faith, my dear fellow," answered the broker's agent. 
 " I only do like the others. You did not, I suppose, expect 
 to be very enthusiastically received by vour old compan- 
 ions ? " 
 
 " I expected to be received like a friend who has been 
 unjustly accused." 
 
 " A friend ! Who has just come out of Mazas." 
 
 " Oh, if that is the way you look on it, you may go to 
 the devil. I will explain matters to my employer." 
 
 " He has just come. You will find him over there, and 
 can say what you like, for the opening bell has not yet 
 rung." 
 
 Cransac left his cowardly friend, and hastened into the 
 main hall of the building, where there was yet plenty of 
 room, for it was still easy to make one's way about. He 
 soon came up to the broker, who looked at him with a 
 calm and severe expression of face.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 11 
 
 " You here, sir?" said he. " I confess that I did not 
 expect to see you, and here too ! " 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Cransac, warmly. " Is it because 
 I have been the victim of a mistake ? The authorities 
 have admitted it, and I have a right to show myself 
 everywhere since I am an innocent person." 
 
 " I would willingly believe it, but everyone on 'Change 
 knows that you were taken up, and I cannot have you 
 about me any longer; besides, you would gain nothing 
 by remaining, for no one would entrust you with any 
 orders. I advise you to change your line of business, 
 and you ought to get on, for you are active and intelli- 
 gent." 
 
 Then, as he perceived tbat Cransac was about to burst 
 into a storm of passion, he added: 
 
 " Your account is made up, and there is some money 
 due to you ou your last month's brokerage. My cashier 
 will settle with you whenever you like." 
 
 The bell rang to announce that the Exchange was 
 open, the broker hurried off, and all the daily din and 
 hubbub commenced. Even had Cransac wished, he could 
 not have uttered another word, for the tumult would 
 have drowned his voice. 
 
 Boiling over with rage, he hurried away, not lingering 
 for a moment in the accursed spot, and ran out into the 
 open street. His cab was waiting for him, and getting 
 into it, he was driven to his home in the Rue Frochot. 
 
 His rage almost suffocated him. For the first time he 
 had learned to read Man. His former friends repudiated 
 him; his employer discharged him. He had nothing to 
 reproach himself with, he had not even committed an act 
 of imprudence, and yet all refused to listen to him when 
 he attempted to justify himself and prove that he had 
 not committed the disgraceful act of which he had been 
 accused. This injustice made him hate the financial 
 world in which he had lived ever since he left school. 
 
 At the Rue Frochot fresh annoyances awaited him. 
 The porter, when he caught sight of him, seemed to 
 imagine that he had fallen from the clouds, and was half 
 inclined to call a policeman, evidently believing that 
 Cransac had escaped from prison; and when he was 
 about to go up to his own room, he called after him in a 
 sulky tone:
 
 12 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " You needn't take the trouble to do that. The land- 
 lord has sealed up the door of your room." 
 
 " What, has he ventured to ? " 
 
 " Don't you know that the commissary of police came 
 and searched your rooms. We can't keep a lodger in a 
 respectable house like ours, who is wanted by the police. 
 And now I'll give you a piece of advice, and that is be 
 off, as sharp as you can." 
 
 Cransac grasped the insolent fellow by the collar, and, 
 shaking him like a rat, shouted: 
 
 " You impertinent hound, I'll go to the commissary of 
 police, and we will see if this beast of a landlord has the 
 right to turn me out of doors." 
 
 For at that moment he was so much exasperated that 
 he had forgotten all about his detention in Mazas, and the 
 strange letter that lurked in his pocket. 
 
 Cransac's only wish was to regain possession of his 
 rooms, even if he had to go to the commissary of the 
 district to enable him to do so. 
 
 As he had been discharged, he had nothing to fear 
 from that official, but for all that he felt a certain amount 
 of repugnance in applying to him for assistance. After hurl- 
 ing the insolent porter from him, who fell gasping into a 
 chair, Cransac paid the fare, took the bundle of linen out 
 of the cab, and placing it in the porter's room, said: " Go 
 and tell your master that he shall hear from me to-day, 
 and that I intend to sleep in jny own bed to-night." 
 This threatening communication was delivered in so 
 fierce a manner that the porter began to change his tone, 
 and, commencing to stammer out some excuses, prom- 
 ised to deliver the message. Cransac, still a pray to 
 anger, left the house, and walked quickly away, hardly 
 knowing where he was going. His head seemed on fire, 
 and he felt that he must walk about to collect his ideas; 
 besides, after fourteen days' imprisonment the possibility 
 of a long and brisk walk was full of charms for him, and 
 he almost longed to break into a run, as a horse who has 
 been for a long time mewed up in a stable stretches his 
 legs by a good gallop. The Rue Frochot leads into the 
 Place Pigalle, through which Cransac only passed to get 
 into a narrow, precipitous street, like all those in the 
 neighborhood of the Butte Montmartre. He climbed up 
 as high as he could, and at last arrived on a kind of plat-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 13 
 
 form which overlooked the Place Saint Pierre. There 
 his breath failed him, and he was obliged to stop and 
 rest, sitting down to do so on a heap of earth. Beneath 
 him Paris stretched itself out, like a huge grey spot; that 
 Paris in which he had spent so many happy hours, and 
 where every door was now closed against htm. In sum- 
 mer these high grounds are a great deal frequented, but 
 in the latter months of the year hardly anyone comes 
 there. The place is a perfect desert, and the view which 
 can be obtained from it does not in any way compensate 
 for the ugliness of the surroundings. The ground under 
 foot seems composed of dried mud, on which are erected 
 dilapidated buildings and wooden huts. 
 
 Cransac sat plunged in thought, which was not of a 
 much brighter hue than the objects that surrounded him. 
 With his mind's eye he fathomed the abyss into which the 
 hand of fatality had plunged him. What would become 
 of him repulsed on all sides, without friends, without 
 money, and, what was worse, without character? He 
 felt that a man tainted with the suspicion of dishonor does 
 not recover himself by his own unaided efforts. But who 
 would stretch out a hand to aid him in rising from his 
 undeserved fall? He had no relations and the very 
 name he bore did not belong to him. 
 
 George Cransac did not know whose son he was, and 
 his earliest recollections did not go beyond a man, whose 
 face he did not even recollect, coming to the village 
 where he had been placed in a laborer's family, and tak- 
 ing him away to Paris, where he was placed in a school, 
 which he only left to go to the College of Saint Louis; 
 thence he was dismissed on account of the annual fees not 
 being paid. George was then nineteen years of age, and 
 was about to enter the Polytechnic School, after having 
 passed a highly successful examination. 
 
 Was it his father who up to this time had defrayed 
 the expenses of his education, and had he died sud- 
 denly without being able to provide for the wants of his 
 illegitimate son ? George knew nothing of the real facts 
 of the case. The school fees used to reach the principal 
 of the college in a registered but unsigned letter, and 
 the man who had brought George to Paris had never 
 again made his appearance. 
 
 George therefore found himself without resources at a
 
 14 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 moment when he was about to enter on a career in which 
 he would doubtless have achieved a brilliant success. His 
 first idea was to enlist, but some of his schoolfellows 
 managed to place him with a stockbroker, where he soon 
 succeeded in making a very good position for himself . His 
 brokerages brought him in some fifteen thousand francs 
 a year; but, as he spent money as fast as he made it, 
 George had no savings to fan back on, and all that 
 remained to him was the bitter regret Jf or his want of 
 foresight, a feeling of intense anger against those who 
 had abandoned him in his misfortune, and an ardent 
 desire to discover and deliver up to justice the forger 
 w r ho had been the cause of his misfortune, the scoundrel 
 who resembled him so much that the one had been taken 
 for the other. By dint of pondering over his doubtful 
 parentage and his terrible disaster, George recovered ah 1 
 his former energy. His anguish turned to rage, and 
 shaking his fist at the mighty city which lay at his feet, 
 he cried: " There is no longer a place for me in Paris, 
 where they crush the feeble, and cringe to the powerful. 
 "Well, I will make a place for myself. Money is a mighty 
 thing, and when I have it, those who now repulse me 
 will lick the dust from my shoes. I will be rich,, and 
 will spare no means to attain my ends. But I will not 
 confess that I am conquered. I will first have an expla- 
 nation with the cowards who have turned their backs on 
 me. I will force them to acknowledge that I am worth 
 more than they are, and will force them to wage the bat- 
 tle with me. I will conquer, or perish in the attempt. I 
 will have a brilliant reparation, and I will go to work 
 without a moment's delay, for I will never bow my head 
 beneath their insults." 
 
 Cheered by this brief monologue, George Cransac rose 
 to his feet. He had something else to do than hurl curses 
 on Paris from the summit of the Butte Montmartre. He 
 had first to find the client whose evidence had proved 
 that Cransack was receiving his orders in his house in the 
 Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne at the very hour when 
 his double was presenting the forged check at the Credit 
 Lyonnais. This client was a wealthy foreigner, who had 
 always treated the young outsider operator with marked 
 politeness, and would not hesitate to give a written testi- 
 mony how utterly impossible it was that Cransac could
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 15 
 
 have uttered the forged check. Furnished with so pow- 
 erful a piece of evidence, Cransac would have no trouble 
 in silencing his calumniators, and he was determined that 
 the reparation should be as public as the injury. The 
 Stock Exchange is hardly a place for atonements of this 
 kind, but both Cransac and his friends were members of 
 a club, and that would be an excellent place for a deci- 
 sive explanation. Cransac, therefore, descended from the 
 eminence in all haste, so that he might drive to the house 
 of the Marquis of Simancas, whom he was almost certain 
 of finding at home at this hour of the day. Instead of 
 returning by the way he had come, George took a shorter 
 cut, by a flight of steps which he imagined would lead 
 directly to the Place Saint Pierre. But he almost imme- 
 diately found out that the steps stopped half-way, at the 
 end of a side street, the name of which he read on a wall 
 the Rue Grabrielle. All at once it flashed upon his 
 mind that this was the street spoken of in the letter from 
 his fellow-prisoner in Mazas. The opportunity was most 
 suitable to find out if the description of the locality 
 given by his unseen neighbor was a correct one. 
 
 Cransac could hardly believe that in so thickly popu- 
 lated a quarter of the town a neglected garden and a 
 ruined house of the kind mentioned in the letter could 
 exist. As, however, he was forced to go down the Rue 
 Gabrielle, nothing was easier than to verify the fact. 
 Even if he found it as described, nothing would oblige 
 him to enter the house, and at the moment he had no 
 intention of doing so. He therefore walked straight on, 
 and had not advanced thirty paces when he found him- 
 self in front of the garden mentioned in the letter. A 
 low wall cut it off from the street, and beyond it was a 
 rather large extent of ground covered with trees and 
 brushwood, which even the wildest imagination could 
 hardly designate as a garden, for there was not a sign of 
 cultivation to be seen in it. It looked more like a prime- 
 val forest. In the middle of the wall was a worm-eaten 
 wooden gate hanging crookedly from its broken hinges. 
 The owner of this strange abode no doubt lacked the 
 necessary funds to keep it in repair, and it had become 
 a haunt for the night wanderers who swarmed in the dis- 
 trict. " That is a queer place to hide a treasure in," 
 thought Cransac. "I should think the young gutter-
 
 16 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 jumpers of the neighborhood would have found it out 
 long before." He looked for the house, but could only 
 perceive the roof peeping out above the trees. He, how- 
 ever, could guess at the spot where it stood. It was 
 perched on the top of a wooded slope, and the desire 
 seized on him to examine it closer. There was no chance 
 of any one seeing him, for there were no buildings oppo- 
 site the gate, and he seemed to be the only person in the 
 street. He pushed against the door, which yielded to 
 the first touch of his hand, and entered the enclosure. 
 But the most difficult part had yet to be overcome, the 
 paths were overgrown with rank weeds and vegetation of 
 all kinds, and it was necessary to make a path through a 
 tangled mass of briar and brambles. After much trouble 
 he emerged from the thicket and found himself in front 
 of the house, which was exactly what the prisoner of 
 Mazas had described. "Shall I go on any further?" 
 mused Cransac. " The ruin has a cut-throat look about 
 it. Who can say that the rogue may not have laid a trap 
 for me. He wouldn't think that I should leave the prison 
 without any money in my pocket, and he may have sent 
 me direct to fellows of his own stamp, who will knock me 
 on the head after robbing me. Well, never mind, my 
 life isn't worth much, and the fellow has not lied. There 
 may be a stolen fortune inside, which the police, on my 
 information, will restore tojjthe rightful owner."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 17 
 
 CHAPTEB in. 
 
 A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. 
 
 SOME broken steps, which threatened to crumble away 
 beneath the feet of the first comer, led up to the only door 
 of the house. All the glass in the windows was shattered, 
 the shutters had been wrenched away, and the door swung 
 backwards and forwards in the breeze on its broken 
 hinges. George Cransac hesitated for a moment, and 
 then, ashamed of his indecision, pushed back the worm- 
 eaten door and entered the room on the ground floor, but 
 halted for a moment on the threshold before venturing in. 
 He saw only the four bare walls, no wall paper, no hang- 
 ings, no furniture, a tile floor, covered with dust, and the 
 corners thickly festooned with spiders' webs. A heap of 
 plaster, which had fallen from the ceiling lay in front of 
 the fire-place, and was so high as almost to conceal the 
 famous brass plate behind which lay, if the prisoner of 
 Mazas was to be believed, his " swag," or in plain English, 
 his money. But this was not the moment to verify the 
 rogue's statements. 
 
 Both house and garden were easy of access, and Cransac 
 had no wish to be detected handling, or even looking at 
 the treasure which had been hidden there by a robber. 
 He never thought of taking it away, having only come to 
 the spot by chance, and entered the garden from curiosity. 
 If the money was there, there was no risk in leaving it 
 until the day when he should decide to inform the police 
 authorities of the existence of the treasure, and he had not 
 even yet made up his mind whether he would do so or 
 not. 
 
 After all a secret is a secret, whether it belongs to a 
 robber or not; and an honorable man never informs 
 against anyone, unless, indeed, he has to do so in self- 
 defence. As he was on the spot, however, he thought he 
 might inspect the house from cellar to garret. At the 
 other end of the room was a dark passage, in which was a 
 dilapidated staircase, leading to the upper floors. Cransac 
 ascended it, and found that it was even in a worse state 
 than it looked. The roof of this species of square turret
 
 18 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 terminated in a sort of Italian terrace, where the autumn 
 rains had left large pools of water, which had filtered 
 through into the walls and threatened shortly to bring 
 the whole place to the ground, when the treasure would 
 run a great risk of being buried beneath the ruins. Cran- 
 sac had now seen all that he desired to see, and he began to 
 think that the place, after all, was not so badly suited for 
 a hiding place, for no one would ever think of searching 
 for valuables in such a ruin. He therefore descended 
 from the roof at once, and in doing so, saw that a fire had 
 been recently lighted in the grate in the room on the first 
 floor. Some poor, homeless wanderer had, no doubt, come 
 in to warm himself; but there were no signs of his having 
 used it as a permanent abode. 
 
 Thoroughly satisfied with his inspection, Cransac once 
 more forced his way through the tangled wilderness, and 
 as soon as he reached more civilized regions hailed a cab, 
 and drove to the address of the Marquis de Simancas. He 
 was going to play his final card, for this gentleman had 
 only to act and he would at once be restored to his proper 
 position, even in the eyes of the most prejudiced persons. 
 The question was, "Would he do so? Would the kindness 
 with which he had always treated the young man be suffi- 
 cient reason to induce him to come forward publicly and 
 clear his character in the estimation of the public ? 
 
 The marquis was a Cuban Spainard, immensely rich, 
 whose sole employment was the pursuit of pleasure. 
 Would he agree to put himself to any inconvenience ? He 
 had given evidence in favor of Crausac before the exam- 
 ining magistrate; but then he was obliged to do this, for 
 no one has the right to refuse to bear witness in a crim- 
 inal trial whether he be a rich, influential foreigner, or the 
 poorest citizen in France. As his cab sped on towards the 
 Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne, Cransac thought over 
 all these points which soon drove out of his head the 
 ruined house he had recently visited, for the treasure of 
 the prisoner of Mazas occupied him much less than the 
 result of the interview that he was now seeking. It was just 
 three o'clock when he reached the Avenue of the Bois de 
 Boulogne : it is at this hour that in winter the long lines of 
 carriages are to be seen making their way to the wood, 
 and the road was crowded with elegant carriages. The 
 humble cab in which Cransac was seated cut but a poor
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 19 
 
 figure in the midst of the fashionable equipages. Without 
 going much into the gay world of Paris, George Cransac, 
 like many other young men connected with the Stock 
 Exchange, knew by sight many of the celebrities in the 
 circles of Bohemia. With some even he was on terms of 
 intimacy, and was ever ready to offer them a merry dinner 
 or to send them bouquets of flowers. But he could not help 
 seeing that these last, after having glanced at him for a 
 moment with an air of surprise, turned their heads sharply 
 on one side, so as to avoid recognizing him as they passed; 
 but he accounted for this by saying to himself that this 
 was because his get-up was rather shabby. His hat was 
 good enough because it was new on the day of his arrest; 
 but contact with the walls of his prison had made his 
 overcoat look very seedy, the fur on the collar was 
 rubbed off here and there, and hiscollar, which he had not 
 changed, was limp and dirty. Young ladies of this 
 class have a keen eye to recognize at the first glance when 
 a man is beginning to drift into poverty. Their beha- 
 vior did not affect Cransac much, for he knew that their 
 sentiments would change when he appeared before them 
 again as well dressed as ever. The house in which the 
 marquis resided was at the corner of the Rue Pergolese, 
 and as Cransac got out of his cab the marquis issued 
 from his house, and was about to get into the magnificent 
 carriage which was waiting for him. The footman was 
 holding the door open, and the coachman was only wait- 
 ing his master's order to give the reins to his horses. 
 Cransac came up, hat in hand, and felt a cold chill strike 
 his heart, when the marquis said: 
 
 " Ah, is it you, sir ? And what do you want ? " 
 
 Cransac turned pale. He had expected a different 
 reception, and it was all that he could do to muster up 
 sufficient courage to reply: 
 
 " I came to thank you, my lord." 
 
 " Thank me ! And for what, pray? " 
 
 "For having given evidence in my favor before the 
 examining magistrate. It is to you that I owe my 
 liberty." 
 
 " There is no occasion to thank me for having told the 
 truth." 
 
 " At least, may I hope that you will again confirm what 
 you said before, and state that you are sure that it was a
 
 20 THE FELON'S BEQUEST, 
 
 case of mistaken identity. That I am innocent you know 
 better than anyone else." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I know you were at my house 
 at eleven o'clock, on the day upon which it appears that 
 a forged check was presented at the Credit Lyonnais; but 
 I know nothing more, and cannot undertake to clear 
 your character." 
 
 " You really speak as if you thought me guilty," said 
 Cransac, bitterly. 
 
 " I know nothing about your guilt, or your innocence. 
 You have been suspected, and that is enough, too much 
 even, and I certainly should not confide my sale or pur- 
 chase of stock to you any more; and so, sir, farewell." 
 
 With these words the Marquis de Simancas got into 
 his carriage, and at once drove off to the wood. 
 
 " Rascal ! coward ! " muttered the young man ; " a 
 word from him to the broker would have silenced every 
 malicious tongue, and he will not say it. He declines to 
 receive me, and hints that I am a thief." 
 
 For a few moments the poor young fellow remained 
 stupified. He felt that all was lost. But anger soon got 
 the mastery, and the lust for vengeance grew keener. On 
 whom should he take revenge ? On the first of his 
 traducers that he could come across. 
 
 " To the Club, Eue Volney," cried he to the cabman. 
 The poor fellow thought, " I can have my pick of them 
 there, for they all come after the day's work. I will wait 
 for them, and when I have struck one of them, we will 
 see whether he will refuse to fight." But Cransac was no 
 more prepared for the reception that he was going to 
 meet with at the club than he had been for the treatment 
 he had received at the hands of his friends. When he 
 entered the hall, and was about to ascend the stairs, he 
 noticed that the servants were whispering together, and 
 on the first floor he was met on the threshold of the 
 drawing-room by the majestic steward of the club, who, 
 lowering his voice, said: "You cannot come in here, sir." 
 
 " "What is that you say ? " asked Cransac, furiously. 
 
 " Are you unaware, sir, that you are no longer a member 
 of this club ? " 
 
 " Since when ? " 
 
 " Since the day before yesterday." 
 
 " And who ventured to give any such order ? "
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 21 
 
 " It was the unanimous decision of the committee, and 
 was posted up yesterday in the drawing-room." 
 
 This was the last and final stroke. 
 
 George felt that his last chance of vengeance had been 
 wrested from him. You may strike one man, but you 
 bannot beat a committee. He might certainly have 
 picked out one, but he hardly knew their names. He did 
 not, however, yield tamely. " Send one of the Committee 
 to me," said he, coldly. 
 
 " There are none of them here," replied the steward. 
 " You must be aware, sir, that the committee only meets 
 on Thursday." 
 
 It was impossible for George to enter into an alterca- 
 tion with a servant, or endeavor to force his way into the 
 club, where he might not even meet with those that he 
 so ardently desired to meet face to face. He therefore 
 adopted the only course that remained to him, and left 
 the house, saying as he did so, " Very well, they shall hear 
 from me." 
 
 He went off in a state of utter despair. His last hope 
 had fled. His friends had deserted him, and his enemies 
 had stolen a march on him. Every door seemed closed, and 
 nothing remained for him but death. He had no revolver in 
 his pocket with which to blow out his brains, and he was 
 about to order his coachman to drive to the river, when 
 a tall young fellow came along the pavement of the Rue 
 Volney. He had nothing to do with the Stock Exchange, 
 being a journalist, and George knew him, as he knew 
 many others that he had met in the world of youth and 
 gaiety. They had frequently taken their pleasure to- 
 gether. They had the same tastes, and were of the same 
 age, and they had soon drifted into intimacy. Was this 
 sharer of his pleasures going to cut him too ? George 
 asked himself this question, prepared to pass him in dis- 
 dain and anger if he showed the slightest semblance of a 
 desire to avoid him. But Paul Valbrec stretched out his 
 hand without a moment's hesitation, and exclaimed, in 
 tones of unfeigned pleasure, " I knew well enough that 
 you were no forger ! They locked you up, but that might 
 happen to any one. Magistrates are such asses. But 
 now that you are out, we must celebrate the happy event 
 in a proper manner." 
 
 " I don't feel up to it," replied George, deeply moved
 
 22 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 at this unexpected reception. " But I thank you from the 
 bottom of my heart for not having doubted me." 
 
 " Have those fools on the Stock Exchange received you 
 badly, then?" 
 
 " They have all cut me dead. The broker for whom I 
 have been working has dismissed me, and the committee 
 of my club has expelled me." 
 
 " These are all misfortunes, for which it is easy to find 
 consolation, old boy. Everything in this world is for 
 the best. You were too clever to remain a money-grub- 
 ber all your life. I will find you a place on my paper." 
 
 " I ask for nothing better ; but " 
 
 " Don't trouble about how you will manage. There is 
 room for every kind of talent there, and I am sure you 
 are just the man to turn out a spicy article." 
 
 " I doubt it very much. 
 
 " Try it, at any rate. Why should you not begin by a 
 sketch of ' Life in the Prison of Mazas,' as you have just 
 come out of it ? " 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 "Perfectly so. To-morrow I will introduce you to my 
 editor, and will be answerable for you. He will find you 
 some place or other. But now that I have got you, I 
 mean to keep you. Where were you going to in that 
 rattletrap ? " 
 
 " I was going to pitch myself into the river." 
 
 " The duce my dear fellow ! You go to work sharply. 
 But if all those who have been arrested by mistake took 
 it into their heads to have a dip in the Seine, we should 
 have to build a new Morgue. There is always time 
 enough to drown yourself. Dismiss the cab, and come 
 with me for a stroll in the Boulevards. We will dine to- 
 gether. I invite you on the spot. We will uncork a few 
 flasks of choice Burgundy, and after dinner you will have 
 given up all idea of ' shuffling off this mortal coil.' " 
 
 George did not hestitate long. After so many insults 
 and rebuffs he had found one true friend who believed in 
 his innocence, and he felt fresh hope spring up in his 
 bosom. He did not expect to succeed at the outset in 
 the new career which Paul Valbrec had promised to open 
 to him, "but he determined to tiy it, without for a moment 
 renouncing the hope of coming across the scoundrel who 
 had forged the check on the Credit Lyonnais.
 
 FELON'S BEQUEST. 23 
 
 Paul passed his arm through that of his friend and led 
 him on to the boulevards. " And now," said he, " tell me 
 all about the matter. I have heard of itr vaguely from 
 people who calumniated you, and whose mouths I closed, 
 but I do not know the details. That there was some mis- 
 take I am certain, but how came it about ? Where did 
 they 'nab 'you?" 
 
 " In the street, just as I was leaving my rooms to go to 
 breakfast. A shabbily-dressed fellow came up to me, and 
 politely requested me to go with him to the commissary 
 of police, who wanted some information from me. I went 
 with him to the office, and found the cashier there in the 
 uniform of the Credit Lyonnais. Directly he set eyes on 
 me he cried out, ' That's the man.' I did not understand 
 what he meant, but the commissary was kind enough to 
 explain that the man recognized me as having the day 
 before, at eleven o'clock in the morning, presented a check 
 bearing my employer's signature " 
 
 "What was the amount of the check?" interrupted 
 Valbrec. 
 
 "Twelve thousand." 
 
 " That was a low price to have ruined yourself at." 
 
 " I protested," continued George, " that it was a case 
 of mistaken indentity, but it was of no avail. The cashier 
 persisted in his certainty that I was the man, and I was 
 remanded to the House of Detention." 
 
 " What ! without further evidence? That was a strong 
 measure." 
 
 " Yes, things happened as I tell you. The examining 
 magistrate told me next day that, in the evening after the 
 payment had been made, the clerk who was making up 
 the books fancied there was something wrong about the 
 signature. It was shown to my employer, who declared 
 it to be a forgery. An inquiry was set on foot, and some 
 people were found who asserted that the description of 
 the forger corresponded exactly with my appearance, and 
 then the warrant was issued." 
 
 " Then the forger resembles you ?" 
 
 "Very closely, it seems; and he knows my employer's 
 signature, for the forgery was most skilfully executed. 
 He must have had a check-book and access to the office of 
 my employer; perhaps he was an outside operator, like 
 myself."
 
 4 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "And did none of your comrades take up your 
 defence ?" 
 
 " On the contrary, I think that they made matters as 
 bad as they could." 
 
 " You were making too much money, and they were 
 delighted at the chance of getting hold of some of your 
 brokerages, and it was lucky that you managed to prove 
 that they were wrong. How did you manage to do so ?" 
 
 "I summoned a client at whose house I was, quite in 
 another part of Paris, whilst the check was cashed over 
 the counter." 
 
 "An alibi; that was a strong defence." 
 
 " It seems a very simple thing to have questioned this 
 gentleman, and got his reply, and yet they took eight 
 days over it. The examining magistrate did not want to 
 summon him at first, and then refused to believe his evi- 
 dence. At last he decided to confront me once more 
 with the cashier, who at the second interview did not 
 dare to maintain that I was the man who presented the 
 check; and so this morning they let me out." 
 
 "Imagine such a thing as this happening in the most civil- 
 ized city in the world. They lay hold of a man who is per- 
 fectly innocent, they keep him locked up for eight days, 
 and when they find that he is absolutely guiltless, they 
 let him go, without troubling themselves as to what 
 becomes of him; nor do they in any way indemnify him 
 for the injury that he has sustained. It is simply dis- 
 graceful; but, at any rate, you owe something to the 
 worthy fellow whose evidence got you out of the scrape." 
 
 " Suppose I were to tell you that I went to see him 
 this morning, and he received me exactly as if I had been 
 guilty?" 
 
 " Impossible ! Pray what is the name of this extraor- 
 dinary personage ? " 
 
 " The Marquis de Simancas, a very rich Spaniard, who 
 has a fine house in the Avenue de Bois de Boulonge." 
 
 " Good I know the festive foreigner. I have already 
 had a shy at him in my paper, in which I chaffed him about 
 his rings, his watch chain, and his diamond sleeve links. 
 I'll touch him up again in my next." 
 
 " Don't do that, my dear fellow. He certainly received 
 me very badly, because he feared that he might have to
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 25 
 
 come forward publicly; but for all that, Iris deposition 
 took me out of Mazas." 
 
 " You are right. I will let him alone then. Now that 
 I understand the matter completely, I can clearly see that 
 you have been the victim of a cunning scoundrel, who has 
 done the trick, and got himself up to look like you. You 
 must find the fellow out, and if you like I will help you 
 to do so." 
 
 " Of course I should like it. Ah ! if once I get hold 
 of him " 
 
 " He will have a bad time of it, eh ? But tell me, do 
 you know that they searched your rooms the day after 
 your arrest ? " 
 
 "The porter told me so." 
 
 " They were most likely looking for the twelve thous- 
 and francs, the produce of the check; but they found 
 nothing, and that is the best proof that you never had 
 them. But will you credit it, they did the same at Juliet 
 Taupier's house ? " 
 
 " By Jove ! this is too much. And under what pretext?" 
 
 " Well, it wasn't hard to find out that you were her 
 lover." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! her lover ? " 
 
 "Well one of them, to speak more exactly; and they 
 thought that you might have hidden the money at her 
 house. It was not there, however; but dear Juliet wasn't 
 half pleased with the business, and she hates you with a 
 deadly hatred, and says that hanging is too good for 
 you." 
 
 " "What ! has she too turned against me ? " murmured 
 George. 
 
 " Worse than any of them," replied Valdrec. " Ai-e 
 you simple enough to believe in the disinterested affection 
 of girls of her class ? I will wager that you have done a 
 great deal for her, and yet she drags your name through 
 mud and mire. It is only human nature, and you do 
 svrong to fret over it. Why, you really ought not to 
 phow the slightest surprise." 
 
 George let his head fall on his breast, for in his heart 
 he knew that Valbrec was right; and yet Juliet, who held 
 a medium position in the world of gallantry, had made a 
 deeper impression in his heart than he cared to avow. 
 Roughly thrown into the whirlpool of business and pleas-
 
 26 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 ure at his first entrance into life, without relations and 
 with no footing in good society, George had plunged 
 headlong into a connection with Juliet, who had crossed 
 his path at that time, and it had cost him dear. If he 
 now found himself almost penniless, it was because he 
 had spent large sums of money on the girl, who was no 
 better and no worse than others of her own class. 
 
 This connection was the more inexcusable on George's 
 part, because he possessed all that was pleasing to the 
 other sex in the highest degree. Not only was he remark- 
 ably handsome, but he had an aristocratic air, and a soft, 
 and melodious voice. 
 
 George was born to inspire some duchess with a roman- 
 tic passion, and yet he wasted his sweetness on a woman 
 of equivocal reputation. 
 
 The thought of Juliet had not ceased to haunt him in 
 his lonely cell in Mazas, and the reason that he had not 
 paid her a visit the moment that he was discharged was 
 because he wished first to regain his footing in the Stock 
 Exchange, where he earned his living. But he had delayed 
 his visit to her pretty little house in the Rue Jouffroy 
 until he had resumed his position with the broker. He 
 had expected to be received with open arms, and the dis- 
 closures made to him by the only friend who had remained 
 faithful to him fell on his ardent passion like a shower of 
 icy water. 
 
 " Ah ! " remarked Valbrec, cynically, " if you were a 
 rich man, Juliet would adore you. Moral : Gain as much 
 money then as you can. And you will gain it, if you 
 will follow my advice and throw yourself into financial 
 journalism." 
 ." May your prediction prove true," sighed George. 
 
 " And now, my boy, one more question. You told me 
 that you had never known your parents." 
 
 " Never to my misfortune." 
 
 "But they must have been wealthy, since they gave 
 you an expensive education." 
 
 " Until the time when they deserted me." 
 
 " For reasons of which you are ignorant, and which 
 may one day cease to exist. Do you not remember, my 
 dear George, that in former days all illegitimate children 
 were presumed to be of noble birth. And now even 
 there is no reason why you should not be the son of a
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 27 
 
 prince or a millionaire. Why should you not one fine 
 day receive a letter from a lawyer announcing that some 
 gentleman, whose name you never heard in your life, had 
 left you heir to an enormous property ? " 
 
 " You are too full of imagination," returned Cransac, 
 sadly. 
 
 " Perhaps I am, but we are not forbidden to live in 
 hope. How delightful it would be to wake up and to 
 find yourself richer than those who ruined you ! To see 
 all of them, men and women, doing all in their power to 
 regain your good graces ? How I should like to be pres- 
 ent at so strange a spectacle ! It would please me as 
 much as if the money had come to me myself; but that 
 will never happen, for both father and mother have died, 
 and not left me a rap, whilst the traditional uncle does 
 not exist in my family. 
 
 George made no answer to the playful remarks of his 
 friend, for he was thinking that it only depended on 
 himself to realize a fortune in a different manner by 
 taking possession of the convict's hoard, if indeed it 
 actually existed. Even, however, up to the present, he 
 had not got over the scruples w r hich had prevented his 
 touching it when it was almost within his grasp, at the 
 time of his visit to the house in the Rue Gabrielle. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE QUEEN OP THE LIONS. 
 
 THESE and many other thoughts whirled through his 
 brain as he and his companions sipped their absinthe at 
 the Cafe Riche. Whilst they were sitting enjoying a good 
 Havana, George had the satisfaction of seeing many of 
 his acquaintances pass by, who, after a moment's hesitation, 
 bowed to him on seeing him in company with Valbrec, 
 whose caustic pen was well known and dreaded. It seemed 
 as if he were going to recover his position. At seven o'clock 
 they adjourned to the Cafe Americain, where a liberal 
 supply of good wine raised George's spirits to their usual 
 height. The dinner was prolonged, and the clock had 
 struck ten, when they asked each other how they should 
 spend the rest of the evening.
 
 28 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "I have nothing to do at the publishing office until 
 midnight," remarked Paul Valbrec. "It is too late to go 
 to the theatre; besides, I have had too much of theatres 
 lately. I sigh for open-air dissipation, and want a good 
 walk to enable me to digest the woodcock and burgundy. 
 It is not very cold this evening, and will not rain. Suppose 
 we walk up to the Boulevard Kochechouart, and have a 
 look at the fair. That wont be far from your place ?" 
 
 "Willingly," replied George, who began to feel a little 
 fatigued after a day full of such exciting incidents, and 
 who had made up his mind to sleep in his own bed, either 
 with or without the permission of his landlord. He there- 
 fore walked on with Valbrec towards that portion of the 
 city in which they both lived, and in a short time came 
 into the midst of the fair. Every year, from the fifteenth 
 of November, there is a fair in this thickly-populated 
 district, and the outer boulevards are covered with sheds, 
 booths, and tents of every description. There is the 
 Cocheris Theatre for pantomine and drama, the Corvi 
 Theatre for monkeys and learned dogs ; but these are the 
 most aristocratic amusements, and there are in addition, 
 Hercules, giants, dwarfs, seals, and somnambulists, to any 
 extent. That year there was, in addition to all these amuse- 
 ments, a wild beast show, where lions and tigers went 
 through their performances under the guidance of an 
 excessively handsome girl. The reporters of the news- 
 papers mentioned her, and it soon began to be the fashion 
 for the mashers to take a trip to Montmartre to see her. 
 
 The two friends made straight for the tent, which covered 
 a large extent of ground, not very far from the Place Pigalle, 
 and went in at once, for the last show was now on. There 
 was a dense crowd, and they had some difficulty in making 
 their way to the large cage in the centre, where the Lion 
 Queen was performing, surrounded by her court of lions 
 and lionesses. She was a tall, handsome girl, of symet- 
 rical proportions, with magnificent dark eyes and hair, 
 the latter falling down over her shoulders, and in the course 
 of her performance she shook it backwards and forwards 
 like a mane. Her tight-fitting flesh-colored bodice dis- 
 played her well-developed, but handsome bust, and her 
 feet looked small and slender in the scarlet buskins with 
 which they were covered. She was evidently not more
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 29 
 
 than twenty years of age, and Cransac thought it was well 
 worth the trouble to come so far to see her. 
 
 " Is not young Cornelian magnificent ?" asked Valbrec. 
 
 " What do you call her ?" asked George. " Cornelian ! 
 What a strange name !" 
 
 " Of course, it is a fancy name. Cornelian is a precious 
 stone, and it suits her very well. She has plenty of go in 
 her." 
 
 " Yes, but there is something evil about her. I don't 
 wonder that the beasts are afraid of her, when she looks 
 at them as she does." 
 
 " She has a way of looking at men too, as you will see 
 presently," answered Valbrec, with a smile, for this was 
 not his first visit to the menagerie. The beautiful tamer 
 of beasts went through her performance completely. At 
 a word from her, and her voice was very sweet, the lions 
 leapt through hoops like mere poodles, and if they hesi- 
 tated she thrashed them soundly. With hearty kicks 
 from her delicate little boots, she made the unwilling, 
 however, do their work, seeming to fear them no more 
 than if they had been King Charles' spaniels. She con- 
 cluded the performance by collecting all the tawny mon- 
 sters together in one corner, and made a bed of them, 
 reclining upon one huge black maned lion, with her elbow 
 resting on his head, and placing her feet on a lioness, 
 who served as a footstool. This was the finale, and the 
 applause was long and loud. Cornelian came to the front 
 of the cage and bowed, at the same time tapping her 
 scarlet boots with her whip, and letting her eyes wander 
 contemptuously over the crowd, as though she were say- 
 ing: "Yes, gentleman yes, it is with my whip that I 
 keep my lovers in order." 
 
 All at once her eyes met those of George's and in a 
 moment their expression changed, and as she gazed on 
 his handsome face her look became soft and tender. 
 
 " Good," said Valbrec, nudging his friend. " You have 
 ' mashed ' Cornelian, she has no eyes for anyone but you 
 at present. You hit her flying at the first shot, added 
 Paul, laughing. 
 
 "Be quiet," answered George. "It is only a trick of 
 her profession; and if she has taken a liking to me, I can't 
 say that I return it. I should always fancy that there 
 was an odor of wild beasts hanging about her,"
 
 30 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 They spoke in a low voice, and yet it seemed as if Corne- 
 lian could hear what they were saying, for the expression 
 of her face again became threatening, and the vibrations 
 of her whip more rapid. 
 
 " She is mad because you don't give in at once," 
 whispered Paul." 
 
 Meanwhile the crowd continued to applaud the Queen 
 of the Lions. For a moment she remained motionless, 
 then with a quick and sudden movement of her white 
 hand she hurled the whip straight at George's face, and 
 it was only by good luck that he caught it ere it reached 
 its destination. The lions, who had been prowling about 
 her feet, seemed half disposed to take advantage of her 
 defenceless state; but, stepping back, she opened a door 
 at the other end of the cage, and disappeared in the 
 midst of a tumult of applause. 
 
 The scene had passed with the rapidity of a flash of 
 lightning, and the audience could not understand why 
 she had thrown away her whip, unless she had done so in 
 mere bravado, as a dancer on the tight-rope casts aside the 
 balancing pole to show that the feat can be performed 
 without it. The tent was filled with shouts for her recall, 
 but she did not appear again and George remained utterly 
 astounded, holding in his hand the whip which he had 
 so adroitly caught. 
 
 " That is the way she ' throws her handkerchief,' said 
 Paul, bursting with laughter. "You have only to go 
 behind and give it to her; depend on it she will receive 
 you kindly." 
 
 "I doubt it. Besides, I don't care whether she does or 
 not," answered George much vexed at being an object of 
 curosity to the spectators, some of whom now began to 
 sing in chorus 
 
 " He will keep it, 
 He won't keep it." 
 
 And not knowing what course to pursue, he compromised 
 the matter by hurling it back into the cage, where the 
 lions soon tore it to pieces with teeth and claws. At this 
 there was much applause, and it was suggested that 
 George should take Cornelian's place in the cage, as the 
 audience had now decided that he was a beast tamer in 
 plain clothes, who had come to witness the performance
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 31 
 
 of a fellow artist of the weaker sex. George thought that 
 it would be advisable to leave the place, when a fresh 
 episode, and one quite unlocked for, caused a diversion of 
 an unpleasant character. 
 
 A young woman, very loudly dressed, and escorted by 
 two or three young dandies, elbowed her way noisily 
 through the crowd, and George, who had turned round 
 to effect his escape, found himself face to face with Juliet 
 Taupier. He stul had a passionate longing to see her 
 again, and he could easily have forgiven her for the abuse 
 that she had lavished on him, but he could have dispensed 
 with meeting her in the midst of a crowd where his 
 presence had already created some sensation. Juliet, 
 however, soon showed him what her feelings were. 
 
 " So the fine gentleman has got out of Mazas, I see," 
 remarked she, withering him with a contemptuous look, 
 " and has lost no time going on the spree. In Queer 
 Street in the morning, and in the fair of Montmartre in 
 the evening." 
 
 At the name of Mazas the bystanders pricked up their 
 ears, and George wished himself a hundred feet below the 
 surface of the earth. 
 
 " And to pull himself together he is making eyes at a 
 beast tamer," sneered Juliet; " that is the finishing touch." 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said George angrily. 
 
 "I hold my tongue! Not whilst I have breath: and 
 every time that I meet you, you shall have a taste of it, to 
 teach you, my good fellow, not to mix me up in your 
 
 dirty business," 
 <t j " 
 
 " Yes, you. Was it on your account yes or no that 
 the police came and searched my house, upset my dresses, 
 and looked into my drawers. I am an honest girl, and 
 was not afraid of them, but I saw no fun in it, I can tell 
 you, and I tell you plainly that you shall pay dearly for 
 it." 
 
 " Calm yourself, my dear creature," remarked the jour- 
 nalist ironically, " or they will put you out of the booth." 
 
 " I should just like to see them do it. And I can't 
 understand how it is that you Valbrec, who are a decent 
 fellow, can be seen about with a fellow just out of quod." 
 
 " You insolent wretch ! " cried George, making a threat- 
 ening gesture, but the girl darted behind one of her male
 
 32 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 friends, a fair, dandified fellow, quite unknown either to 
 Valbrec, or Cransac. "Arthur," cried she "I trust that 
 you will not permit me to be insulted ! " 
 
 Arthur had not a very bellicose appearance, but when 
 appealed to in such a manner he had no alternative, and 
 so he interfered without the slightest enthusiasm, but 
 rather as a man who, having a disagreeable duty to per- 
 form, gets through it somehow or other. 
 
 It was an unfortunate thing for him that he did so. 
 Cransac's hand was raised, and it fell on Arthur's cheek 
 with a loud smack, that rang through the booth. " I 
 shall expect your friends to-morrow," cried Cransac. 
 " The woman with you, can give you my address," and 
 hitting right and left, he forced his way through the 
 gaping crow that had gathered round him, and gained the 
 door, closely followed by Valbrec. At that moment he 
 came across Cornelian, who, having hastily thrown a shawl 
 over her shoulders, had come in front to catch one more 
 glimpse of the good-looking young fellow that she had 
 caught sight of through the bars of the lion's cage. Cransac 
 took no notice of her, and when he again found himself in 
 the boulevard, he said to Valbrec : " At last I have given one 
 of them a box on the ear. We shall see if this dandy has 
 got an ounce of pluck, and if he has, I hope to oblige him 
 with as pretty a sword-thrust as he could wish." 
 
 " If he will fight," muttered the journalist ; " but I 
 doubt it." 
 
 " He will be an awful cur if he pockets the slap that I 
 gave him and says nothing." 
 
 "Well, he doesn't look much like a fighting man. 
 Juliet's lovers are a shy lot, according to report. It seems 
 to me tHat I have seen that fellow's face somewhere, and 
 not in the best society either. I am not quite certain, for 
 then he had a heavy, fair moustache like yours, but he 
 may have cut it off." 
 
 " I don't care about his moustache, but I'll slit his skin 
 for him." 
 
 "I hope that you will only don't be vexed at what I am 
 going to say. He has an excuse for declining to meet you ; 
 that jade Juliet shouted out before fifty persons that you 
 had just come out of Mazas." 
 
 " Again ! Am I always to have that insult flung in my
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST^ 33 
 
 face, and all because I have the misfortune to look like a 
 rogue ? " 
 
 "It won't last forever, but you must have patience. 
 You know that you are innocent, so despise your slan- 
 derers, and scorn the opinions of fools. Let the storm 
 pass, and the day will come when you can take your re- 
 venge ; when you can catch your double." 
 
 " And in the meantime, I am to live the life of a Pariah ! 
 No, I would rather put a bullet through my head." 
 
 " That is the resource of men who have lost their posi- 
 tion and have no energy to reconquer it. The sudden 
 conclusion of your connection with Juliet has for the 
 moment unnerved you, but be firm. Suicide is not a 
 solution of your difficulties, especially when you have 
 nothing to reproach yourself with. Pluck up your spirits, 
 and make up your mind to live." 
 
 " What is the use of living and for whom shall I live ? " 
 
 " For me, in the first place, who am your true friend, 
 and then for a woman oh ! don't get angry. All women 
 in this world are not Juliets. You will easily find one who 
 deserves to be loved, for you are a man that they all like ; 
 for instance, look at the Queen of the Lions." 
 
 " Are you going to chaff me now ? " 
 
 " Not a bit ; and the proof is that I am ready to do battle 
 against everyone in your behalf. Just now you are too 
 excited to reason calmly. Go home, sleep soundly, and 
 come and see me to-morrow at the office of the paper. 
 The night brings good counsel with it, and you will be 
 the more disposed to listen to me, when I plainly lay 
 before you the steps I propose to take to set you up once 
 more. And so, dear friend, good night, and try not_to 
 dream of Cornelian." 
 
 " Don't talk to me any more about that mountebank." 
 
 "All right ; but you won't escape her. I will lay you 
 two to one that she will ask Juliet for your address, and 
 five to two that Juliet will give it to her, in hopes of doing 
 you a bad turn." 
 
 With these parting words Paul Valbrec shook his friend 
 warmly by the hand, and set off at a rapid pace towards 
 the Rue Fromentin. 
 
 George was left alone in the midst of the merry crowd 
 on its way to the fair, deafened by the din of cymbals 
 and the blast of trumpets, and blinded by the rays of
 
 34: THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 electric light which gleamed from the top of the Cochreri 
 Theatre. The music and the lights seemed to mock his 
 despair, and he was eager to remove himself from the 
 lights and merriment. The wise advice of Paul Valbrec 
 had neither calmed or consoled him. He had no more 
 thoughts of suicide. All he thought of was to arm him- 
 self for the fray. Society had cast him out; and he 
 declared war against Society. 
 
 Money is the sinews of war; and he knew where to 
 procure it. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 A NEW MONTE CKISTO. 
 
 THERE was the prisoner's treasure still available, a 
 stolen treasure doubtless, but which, abandoned as it was, 
 might fall into worse hands than his. Some hours before, 
 when he had not yet seen all the horrors of his position, 
 he had determined not to touch the accursed money, bnt 
 now his scruples had fled as his illusions were dissipated. 
 He vowed that he would use it to punish the wicked, and 
 to recompense the good, as Monte Cristo had done in 
 Dumas' romance. He saw no harm in usurping the 
 functions of Providence, which too often seems to act in 
 a manner not at all in accordance with human ideas. 
 He did not even stop to consider whether his sudden rise 
 to affluence would not increase the cloud of suspicion 
 which already hung so heavily over him. " It has been 
 ordained," thought he, " that I should deviate from the 
 right path, and let those who have treated me as a guilty 
 person bear the blame. I feel no remorse." He then 
 looked at his watch, and saw that it was a quarter to. 
 twelve. " Let me get in," said he to himself, " it is time 
 to be at work; the Rue Gabrielle is not far from this." 
 As a smoker, George was of course provided with matches, 
 but these would not afford sufficient light for the work that 
 he had in hand, and for a moment he thought of going 
 to his own rooms and procuring a candle, for all the shops 
 in the neighborhood were closed. Whilst he was hesi- 
 tating, a man came by with a truck, upon which were 
 eome of those Venetian or Algerian lanterns, which afford 
 $ cheap method of illumination, and George bought hall
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 35 
 
 a dozen of them, fearing that one would prove insuffi- 
 cient if the work that he was about to undertake should 
 prove longer than he thought. Furnished with these 
 paper funnels, with the small piece of inflammable matter 
 at the bottom, George started boldly for the ruined house. 
 The streets through which he had to pass were almost 
 deserted; but he had no fear of night prowlers, for the 
 simple reason that passers-by were so scarce that these 
 gentry did not think it worth their while to lay in wait 
 for them. When he reached the wooden gate, he found 
 it still balf opened, as he had left it, and stopped a 
 moment before passing tlmnigh it. 
 
 He gazed round him, and listened. 
 
 He saw nothing but the dark shapes of the trees on 
 the slope, and only heard that vague, indescribable 
 sound, which seems the respiration of sleeping Paris, the 
 distant rattle of carriage wheels, and the creaking of the 
 leafless boughs as they swung backwards and forwards 
 in the winter's breeze. 
 
 Very likely that Juliet, whom he loved so much and 
 who had so openly insulted him, was now supping with 
 her friends in some night tavern, and it seemed to him 
 as if the idiotic hum of their conversation could reach 
 his ears even here. And here in front of him lay a for- 
 tune, absolutely at his own disposal; all that he had to 
 do was to carry it away, and with it he could revenge 
 himself upon the woman who had insulted him, ruling 
 her by the only master she respected Gold. He pic- 
 tured her to himself kneeling at his feet, and he, humili- 
 ating her, by treating her with contempt as if a woman 
 like her could ever feel the sting of his humiliation. It 
 would have been better for George to remember that in 
 this mighty city of Paris, so full of poverty and wealth, 
 there are thousands of honest girls who gain their bread 
 by hai-d toil, and that thrice happy are the industrious 
 workers upon whom they set their affections. But in the 
 circle in which George had lived, the world of finance 
 and business, there was little thought for those who 
 suffered and toiled. Without farther hesitation he 
 struggled through the wilderness of tangled weeds, and 
 found it harder than he had done in his first visit by the 
 light of day. 
 
 After tearing his hands and clothes, he at last arrived
 
 36 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 at the steps. High above him rose the house, dark and 
 silent, like a ruined donjon keep. Everything seemed 
 quiet, and there was but little fear of anyone coming to 
 disturb him at his work. He went in, and lighting one 
 of his paper lanterns, hung it to a nail in the chimney, 
 so that the light might not be visible from the outside. 
 The outer door had neither bolt nor lock, but he piled 
 against the lower portion of it some of the bricks and 
 plaster that lay in a heap in front of the chimney-piece. 
 He did all this slowly and silently, like a man who is in 
 no hurry, but who thinks that he ought not to neglect 
 any precautions, and when he had completed his task he 
 crouched down in front of the famous brass plate, so as 
 to examine it more closely. It was blackened with soot, 
 as he had noticed on his first visit. As he looked at it 
 more attentively he could see under this soot the form 
 of screws and hinges. The hinges were at the bottom, 
 the iron pin at the top. Cransac seized the pin; at first 
 it resisted his efforts, because it had grown rusty, but 
 after a time it yielded and turned round with a creaking 
 sound, such as an old-fashioned clock makes when it is 
 wound up. After the third turn he heard a sound like a 
 bolt being withdrawn from its socket, and the pin would 
 move no further. Evidently the work was over, and the 
 fastenings undone. All that remained was to pull it down; 
 he did so, and the plate yielded so quickly that he had great 
 difficulty in preventing its falling with a loud crash. It 
 had been held in its place by three steel bolts, but before 
 he could examine these, a gust of damp, mephitic air blew 
 right in his face, and made him start back. It was like 
 the exhalation that arises when an abandoned well has 
 been re-opened, or when a cellar that has been closed for 
 a long time has once again been put in use. But the f eeling 
 of cold that chilled Cransac was mingled with an impression 
 of disgust at the indescribable odor. There was some- 
 thing deathlike in it, and Cransac asked himself if the real 
 owner of the stolen treasure had not been buried beneath 
 it by his murderer. The Venetian lantern gave but a feeble 
 light, and he could only see in front of him a wall, and 
 when he looked more closely a heap of objects, the shape 
 of which he could not readily distinguish. The opening 
 in the wall was not more than three feet in diameter, it 
 was not, therefore, likely that a human body had been
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 37 
 
 buried there. A little reassured by this, George lit another 
 of his lanterns, and after waiting until the foul air had 
 evaporated, he put his head into the cavity, in which he 
 began to fear that he should find nothing. He then saw 
 that the bottom was covered with a bed of fine sand, and 
 that underneath this was a number of small rolls of paper, 
 which looked like cartridges for a large bored gun. Was 
 the treasure nothing but ammunition hidden away by some 
 band of conspirators? That was hardly likely. These rolls, 
 which were arranged in order, had an outer wrapping of 
 green paper. Cransac took up one, after having cleared 
 away the sand with his fingers, and saw at once, from its 
 weight, that it was a packet of a thousand francs in gold, 
 like cashiers of banks make up for their customers. At a 
 first glance George could see fifty of these packets which 
 of themselves were a fortune, but others lay beneath them, 
 and he could not get down to the bottom of the deposit, 
 but he had every reason to suppose that an incalculable 
 amount of coined gold was hidden away in this metallic 
 receptacle. In order to know the exact amount of his 
 treasure, he must have emptied the hiding place, but it 
 would have been useless for him to do so, for he could 
 not have carried it away in his pockets, nor yet on his 
 back, even if he had a sack to stow it away in. 
 
 The prisoner of Mazas had told the truth. 
 To gain such an enormous booty he must have broken 
 into the strong room of one of the largest banking estab- 
 lishments ; and yet, if he had done so, how had he contrived 
 to carry away the treasure to the top of the hill of Mont- 
 martre ? But Cransac did not trouble himself to solve this 
 riddle ; all he thought of was how he could best appropriate 
 this treasure which it was so difficult to carry away. The 
 most sensible method was to take away a little at a time, 
 and make a series of visits to the spot. He made up his 
 mind to act in this manner, when a sudden sound made 
 him start. He turned sharply round, but the door was 
 still fast, nor was any suspicuous form visible from the 
 window. The sound had come from upstairs, and as 
 Cransac listened eagerly, he fancied that he heard some- 
 one walking in the room above. Then the noise ceased, 
 and it had been so slight that George asked himself if he 
 might not be deceived. It was perhaps only a rat scamp- 
 ering across the flooring. There were alway plenty of rats
 
 38 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 in deserted houses, and the one in the Rue Gabrielle might 
 be full of them. Entirely re-assured, he went to work, 
 and drew from the receptacle twenty packets of a thousand 
 francs each, and put ten in each pocket of his overcoat. 
 He could not have carried any more, for ten thousand 
 francs in gold weigh at least six pounds, and the linings 
 and sewing of a pocket must be strong to resist such a 
 strain. Besides, twenty thousand francs would suffice to 
 start him in the new life into w T hich he was about to enter. 
 All he had to do was to pay frequent visits until the 
 treasure was completely exhausted, and this he made up 
 his mind'to do, for he determined for the future to lead 
 the life of a millionaire. 
 
 And if people suspected the source of his miraculous 
 change of fortune, he had his answer ready, an answer 
 which his friend Valbrec had unconsciously suggested to 
 him. He would say that his father that unknown father 
 who had provided for the wants of his childhood, and 
 early youth had made himself known to him before his 
 death, and had willed all his property to him. To give 
 an air of truth to this story, he had only to go and pass 
 a month away from Paris, and on his return relate that 
 he had inherited this magnificent legacy in some foreign 
 country. People would take it all for granted without 
 troubling themselves to go there and make inquiries, and 
 certainly no one would guess that the bequest came to 
 him from a felon. There was nothing now for him to do 
 but to return to his rooms in the Eue Frochot with such 
 a sum in his possession as he had never before had. He 
 often gained as much every year by his brokerages, but 
 he spent it as fast as he made it; and this was the first 
 time that he had had so large a sum at his disposal at one 
 time'. He put back the plate^ and turned the pin, made 
 sure that the steel bolts had gone home in their sockets, 
 and that all was firm and secure; then sprang to his feet, 
 although his pockets were so heavily weighted with gold, 
 and was about to extinguish his lantern, when he heard 
 a dull, heavy sound, as though some article of furniture 
 had been overturned on the flooring of the room above. 
 
 He had seen no furniture when he had visited the 
 rooms in the morning, but there must have been some- 
 thing to cause the noise, and he felt that there was some- 
 one upstairs. At first he thought of beating a retreat,
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 39 
 
 without troubling himself to find out who it was that had 
 introduced themselves into the uninhabited house, but 
 the thought crossed his mind that perhaps this nocturnal 
 visitor had come upon the same errand as himself, and 
 he did not feel at all disposed to share the treasure 
 with him. A timid man would have given way, but 
 George Cransac was endowed with a disposition that led 
 him to carry out his resolution to the end. He had no 
 weapon, but nature had furnished him with a pair of 
 strong arms and a courageous heart; and, with his lan- 
 tern in his hand, he moved towards the staircase leading 
 to the upper rooms. This was an act of the greatest 
 imprudence, for, even supposing that he succeeded in 
 expelling the intruder, he ran the risk of being recog- 
 nized by a person who was certainly not on these prem- 
 ises with any good motive. Cransac hesitated for a 
 moment at the foot of the staircase, he heard nothing 
 more; but at this moment a whiff of suffocating smoke 
 rolled down, as if to meet him, causing him to cough 
 violently. It was too late now to draw back. The cough 
 must have betrayed his presence, and if the intruder had 
 accidently or intentionally set fire to the house, there 
 might yet be time to extinguish a conflagration, which 
 would certainly bury in the smoking ruins the! enormous 
 treasures of the prisoner of Mazas.
 
 40 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 THE BRAZIER OF OHABOOAL. 
 
 CRANSAC ran rapidly up the stairs, and in another moment 
 arrived on the first floor ; he was not surprised to find the 
 door shut, and the smoke that had met him at the foot of 
 the stairs pouring through the crevices in the broken 
 panels. The site of the conflagration was there, but the 
 incendiary was still invisible. Cransac beat his clenched 
 hand against the door, but no one answered his appeal for 
 admission. Stepping back as far as the landing w^ould 
 permit, he gave the door a violent kick, which tore it from 
 its hinges and sent it flying to the other side of the room. 
 A thick cloud of smoke issued forth and made George 
 Cransac recoil. He had expected to be attacked, and 
 stood on the defensive; but no one appeared. Now or 
 never was tke time to act, and without a moment's hesi- 
 tation he burst into the room. All was dark, and the 
 feeble light which his lantern gave seemed like a luminous 
 paint in the gloom. In entering, he stumbled over some 
 object which rolled further into the room, and he could 
 feel that his feet were crunching some substance that felt 
 like charcoal. Instinctively he made for the window ; 
 none of the glass was broken, and it was tightly closed. 
 He opened it at once, and established a thorough draught 
 which drove away the smoke. George already knew that 
 in entering he must have stumbled over a brazier, and that 
 it could not have been lighted without hands; but his 
 thoughts were speedily diverted from this by finding as 
 the smoke cleared away that a body was lying at his feet. 
 In a moment he knelt down beside it, and saw it was a 
 woman. The head of the unhappy creature was almost 
 in contact with the brazier, and her hair had been singed 
 by the burning embers that had rolled on the floor. The 
 first thing that George did was to extinguish these by 
 crushing them beneath his feet. There was more need to 
 do this than to assist the woman, for the flooring was of 
 pine, and would soon have been fanned into flame by the 
 combined draughts from the door and window. The 
 nascent conflagration was soon extinguished, and blowing
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 41 
 
 out and pocketing his Venetian lantern, he raised up the 
 woman's body in his arms, and, carrying her down the 
 stairs, placed her on the steps in the fresh air. She was 
 not very heavy, but, loaded with gold as he was, he found 
 his task by no means, an easy one ; yet he could not find 
 it in his heart to abandon a fainting woman. He knew 
 that she was not dead, for he could feel her heart beat ; 
 but she was totally insensible, and the first thing to be 
 done was to bring her to. As he groped about for some 
 more convenient seat, his hand came in contact with a 
 hollow stone, in which the recent rain had left a little 
 water. This enabled him to apply the simplest remedy, and 
 one that is usually most efficacious in cases of syncope. 
 He sprinkled this cold water over the woman's face, and 
 almost immediately she shuddered, and murmured a few 
 unconnected words. George could not see if she was 
 pretty or not, but judging from her figure he imagined 
 she must be young, and was almost in a position to guess 
 at her history. An attempt at suicide owing to some dis- 
 appointment in love, or to escape from the curse of 
 poverty. One of those sad dramas in real life so often 
 performed in Paris in the garrets of the poor. 
 
 But what he could not understand was, why this poor 
 despairing creature has chosen the deserted house in the 
 Rue Gabrielle for the place of her death, and he deter- 
 mined to ask her the question as soon as she should be in 
 a position to answer him. This too would be an excellent 
 opportunity to make a good use of the gold with which 
 his pockets w r ere filled if poverty had driven her to so 
 rash a step. Only he must not hang about the house too 
 long, for it was most important that he should not be 
 seen, and the spot was not a safe one. The smoke might 
 have been seen by some of the police, and if they took it 
 into their heads to enter the garden, it would be difficult 
 for him to explain his business there at such an hour, 
 with an insensible woman at his feet; then, if they were 
 not satisfied with his explanation, they would take him to 
 the nearest police-station and when he was searched the 
 twenty thousand francs in his pocket would be brought 
 to light. To escape from this perilous position with as 
 little delay as possible, he wetted the eyes of the insensi- 
 ble woman, slapped her hands, and even shook her with 
 some degree of violence, but without achieving any great
 
 42 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 success. Certainly she contrived to sit up on the step, 
 but when she made an effort to rise to her feet she sank 
 down again, and her head fell on George's shoulder as 
 she sank into his arms. He was compelled to press her 
 to him so as to hold her up, and these embraces insensi- 
 bly warmed his blood. He never thought of the danger 
 that he ran in prolonging them, and he even began to 
 hope that the woman he had saved was pretty, and might 
 be brought to love him. 
 
 At last he thought of lighting a match and holding it 
 under her nose. He did so; her eyes opened and she 
 saw Q-eorge's face almost touching hers. " You ! it is 
 you, yourself ! " cried she, and drew him to her so rapidly 
 that their lips met. He had only time to see by the fleet- 
 ing light of the match that she was beautiful, and he did 
 not attempt to draw back, but he imagined that she was 
 delirious, for her face was perfectly unknown to him. 
 Bat there is an end to everything, even to kisses and 
 illusions, and the woman who had flung herself into his 
 arms tore herself away, and, pushing him from her, ex- 
 claimed: "Unhappy woman that I am, it is not he!" 
 George was now certain that she was mad. What else 
 could he think of a woman who first took him for her 
 lover, and then after a long" and tender kiss, repulsed him 
 with horror ! Bat he soon saw that he had deceived him- 
 self. She was not mad; the shock that she had expe- 
 rienced had entirely restored her to her senses, which 
 had deserted her on the approach of suffocation. " For- 
 give me, sir," faltered she; " but I have been the dupe of 
 a most surprising resemblance." 
 
 " I don't find fault with your mistake," answered George 
 with a smile. 
 
 " What must you think of me after all that has passed ? 
 Jt seems to me that I have just awoke from a dream." 
 
 " It was no dream. You had attempted to kill your- 
 self; by good fortune I arrived in time to save you." 
 
 " Yes, I remember all now. I lit some charcoal; at 
 first I suffered terribly, then I began to lose my senses, 
 little by little, as one does when sinking into sleep. Ah ! 
 sir, why did you hinder me from dying ? " 
 
 " Dying at your age ! " 
 
 "I am young in years, but I have passed through as 
 much trouble as though I had lived a century."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 43 
 
 "But I hope now that you have done with such 
 thoughts for ever." Then, as the girl made no reply, he 
 continued: " Pray listen to me, madam " 
 
 " Do not call me madam. I am not married." 
 
 " I ask you no questions. All I ask is to be permitted 
 to come to your aid. I do not know why you wanted to 
 kill yourself, but I swear to you that I am ready to do all 
 I can to extricate you from your difficulties. It was 
 written that I was to save your life, and it was no doubt 
 also wiitten that you would accept my friendship. Let 
 us aid each other mutually to pass through life. Do not 
 misunderstand the meaning of my words. I do not pro- 
 pose to become your lover, for I am sure you have 
 one " 
 
 "I had one," answered the girl, "but he is lost to me 
 forever !" 
 
 " I might say that in this world you should be certain 
 of nothing, but will content myself with saying that I 
 will be for you whatever you wish; and now come with 
 me.' 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " Wherever you wish to go ; but I will not leave you 
 alone here." 
 
 " You were here alone. What did you come for ?" 
 
 " Perhaps to put an end to my life like yourself. I 
 was on the ground floor, when I heard you upset the 
 brazier of charcoal in your last convulsive struggles. 
 You know what followed. So here we are both of us 
 condemned to live." 
 
 " I begin to believe so too," answered the girl, simply. 
 
 " Then take my arm, and let us leave the garden," 
 returned George. 
 
 He helped her to her feet, and assisted her to walk, 
 though how he was to make his way through the tangle 
 with a companion who could hardly keep her feet he was 
 at a loss to understand. The girl, however, relieved him 
 from this difficulty by pointing out a side-path which was 
 tolerably open, and led to another gate which opened on 
 to a flight of steep steps running down into the Rue 
 Gabrielle. 
 
 " Was this the road by which you came in ?" asked he. 
 
 " I know of no other." 
 
 " But you are acquainted with the house ?"
 
 44 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " For a long time past. I used to play in the garden 
 when I was a little child." 
 
 " You live in this quarter of the city ?" 
 
 "I used to; but now my home is in Belleville." 
 
 " And you came all this distance to die ? " 
 
 "I wished no one to know of my death. My body 
 would have been carried to the Morgue, and no one would 
 have recognized it." 
 
 " Have you no mother ?" 
 
 " I am an orphan." 
 
 As they spoke they were descending side by side the 
 public flight of steps that lead to the Place Saint Pierre, 
 and Cransac asked himself more than once how this strange 
 adventure was going to end. It had commenced in so 
 curious a manner that he had not even thought of what 
 might be the future results, and he had hardly glanced 
 at the features of the woman he had rescued; but some- 
 thing within him said that this meeting would have much 
 to do with his future life. 
 
 The girl could not manage to walk any further, and on 
 turning into the Boulevard Bochechouart George saw a 
 cafe still open. It was one of those with a verandah to 
 it, and seats, so that customers could take their refresh- 
 ments in the open air. His companion made no objection 
 to sitting down and sipping a little punch, which com- 
 pletely restored her. 
 
 George was now able to examine her features by the 
 light of the gas. She was simply attired in a black stuff 
 dress, like a poor workgirl, but she was strangely beauti- 
 ful, pale, and dark, with a sad and tender look upon her 
 face, such as is seldom seen amongst girls of her posi- 
 tion. He begged her to tell him her story, and she made 
 no objection. 
 
 " Sir, " said she, seriously, " I owe you my life, and now 
 I think with you, that I ought to accept the destiny which 
 fate has accorded to me that is to say, the friendship that 
 you offer me; but, if we are to meet again, you must 
 know who I am. My name is Cecile Cambremer, and I am 
 twenty-two years of age. I was fifteen when my f ath er died 
 broken-hearted after a heavy pecuniary loss, which he had 
 neither expected nor deserved. I had lost my mother 
 before, and I should Lave starved if a kind neighbor had 
 not assisted me, and taught me the trade of an artificial
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 45 
 
 florist. In three years I became so skillful that when she 
 died I was able to earn my living, and carry on busi- 
 ness on my own account." Cransac could not help think- 
 ing that this recital began like all those which certain 
 young ladies are in the habit of confiding to rich men: 
 a tale of good birth, unmerited misfortune, and a struggle 
 for existence. He only half believed in her, and the cyni- 
 cal Valbrec, had he been present, would not have believed 
 at all; but she continued her story with an air of sin- 
 cerity that impressed him in spite of himself. 
 
 " I opened a shop," continued Cecile, " and I was doing 
 well, until a man utterly unworthy of me, crossed my 
 path. I do not attempt to conceal anything from you. 
 I might have married an honest workman in my own rank 
 of life, but I fell deeply in love with this man, whom I 
 now despise, as much as I formerly adored him. He con- 
 tinually put off our marriage; and when he found that I 
 would not yield to his seductions he was profuse in his 
 apoligies, but managed to draw from me nearly all the 
 money I made, which he squandered on a creature well 
 suited to him. When I had no more to give him he left me 
 to misery and destitution. I heard that he had money, 
 and I wrote to him I confess it to my shame for aid and 
 assistance, but my letter remained unanswered. Then I 
 felt that I had fallen low enough, and only desired to 
 die." 
 
 " But you have promised to live," cried George eagerly. 
 " and it is your own fault if you are not happy; that is, if 
 you have cured yourself of a love that has been so fatal 
 to you, and this YOU must permit me to doubt, for a little 
 time back, when you took me for that man " 
 
 " I was not in my senses then ; but now I swear to you 
 that I hate him as much as I formerly loved him. I have 
 made up my mind to live. I have had to close my shop 
 for want of money to pay my assistants, but I can get 
 a place " 
 
 "No; you must let me help you." 
 
 " I thank you, sir; but I can take nothing from you." 
 
 " What ! not even a loan ? Why you would take one 
 from a business man or a banker. Then why refuse to 
 accept one from me, who am neither one or the other, but 
 who is able to render you this service without the slight- 
 est inconvenience ? "
 
 46 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 Cecile looked George full in the face, to see if he spoke 
 seriously. 
 
 " I can read your thoughts," said he. " You think that 
 I have some unworthy motive in making this offer? 
 Undeceive yourself: I have none. I do not purpose to 
 make you a present of the sum you require. I intend to 
 grant you a loan, and you shall fix the rate of interest 
 yourself." 
 
 " But, sir, I do not know you. You know my name, 
 whilst I " 
 
 " My name is George Cransac; I live at 19, RueFrochot, 
 and you can give me a note payable on demand. Oh ! 
 not this evening. You can send it to me to-morrow; and 
 I will give you my word of honor not to present myself 
 at your residence without your consent." 
 
 " Then," said Cecile, slowly, " after all you are rich, and 
 yet you tell me that you went into that deserted house in 
 order to take your life." 
 
 "Do you think there is no reason for suicide except 
 poverty ? There are many other reasons to induce a man 
 to make away with himself." 
 
 " You are right. Had I only had to endure poverty, I 
 should never have sought to release myself by death." 
 
 " Then you can easily understand that there was some 
 other reason for my despair than want of money. Take 
 this," continued George, placing one of his packets on the 
 table. " Will a thousand francs be sufficient ?" 
 
 " It is too much," faltered Cecile, deeply moved. 
 
 "It is better to have too much than too little; and now 
 where do you live ?" 
 
 " 22, Avenue de Laumiere, near the Park des Buttes 
 Chaumont." 
 
 " Good. I shall not offer to see you home, but I shall 
 put you into a cab; and I shall expect your note of hand 
 payable to my order to-morrow morning by post. Do not 
 trouble to bring it, as I am leaving Paris to-morrow 
 evening. When I return I will let you know." 
 
 George uttered these last words in a dry, business-like 
 manner, so as to reassure Cecile as to the honorable inten- 
 tions of the man who had saved her life. 
 
 A cab just then passed; George hailed it, half -forced 
 the parcel of gold into Cecile's hand, threw a five-franc 
 piece pn the table to discharge the reckoning, paid Hio
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 47 
 
 cab fare, and, after assisting the girl in, walked off with- 
 out another word in the direction of the Rue Fro- 
 chot. He had need of little rest, but he determined to 
 devote one night only to it, for he had resolved to put 
 into execution the plan he had conceived of leading a new 
 life. He would wait until twelve o'clock for a visit from 
 the seconds of Juliet's new lover, and whether they came 
 or not he would write a letter to Paul Valbrec, informing 
 him that he had been summoned to England by letter, 
 and leading him to suppose that it had something to do 
 with a legacy; to remain in London eight days, and to 
 return to- Paris again in the guise of a millionaire. Then 
 he could once again see the beautiful Cecile, who had 
 already secured a corner in his heart, and revenge himself 
 upon those who had insulted and repulsed him. 
 
 The gold that he had procured through the prisoner of 
 Mazas did not lie so heavily on his conscience now that he 
 had employed a portion of it in assisting a woman who 
 had been so cruelly treated, and he hoped that this pro- 
 pitious commencement would bring him good luck. 
 
 He forgot that in this world we must always be prepared 
 for the unexpected.
 
 4:8 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 A MILLIONAIRE'S PERPLEXITIES. 
 
 IN ten days' time George Cransac returned from 
 London. He had had plenty of time in which to reflect, 
 and he had not altered any of his plans. He had indeed 
 made up his mind more firmly than ever to profit by the 
 stroke of chance that had made him a rich man., He felt 
 no remorse, and had returned to Paris like a victorious 
 general entering a conquered city. He had written from 
 London to Paul Valbrec, and had received a letter from 
 him congratulating him, and urging him to return to 
 Paris as soon as possible, to show those who had calum- 
 niated him that he was now rich, and to shame those who 
 had repulsed him in the days of his poverty. George did 
 not wish to return to his small apartment in the Rue 
 Frochot, and had requested Valbrec to secure rooms for 
 him at the Grand Hotel. He came to Paris by the night 
 train, and slept late, and after breakfasting in his own room 
 was preparing to go out, when his faithful friend made 
 his appearance. 
 
 " Good day, millionaire," cried he, shaking his friend 
 cordially by the hand. 
 
 George returned his greeting warmly; but in his own 
 heart he was not very hopeful as to how this conversa- 
 tion would end, for he felt sure that his friend would put 
 several difficult questions to him, and in this he was not 
 deceived. 
 
 " Well, yours is an almost miraculous adventure," 
 remarked the journalist. " Do you not remember that on 
 the evening before you left I said something abont this 
 to you when we were taking our absinthe at the Cafe 
 Riche ? I then predicted that this mysterious father of 
 yours would turn up one day and make you his heir. I 
 thought then that I was only chaffing, but you see that 
 I was a prophet in spite of myself. And now, tell me this 
 tale of a thousand and one nights, for .your letters have, 
 as yet, given me no details. Are you the son of a prince, 
 or of a mere capitalist ?"
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 49 
 
 "And suppose I told you that I, was no wiser than I 
 was before ?" said George, who had his tale all cut and 
 dry. 
 
 " Impossible ! The author of your days cannot have 
 left you his fortune without making you acquainted with 
 his name." 
 
 "I don't even know if this fortune comes from my 
 father. I received a letter from a London banker, telling 
 me that a sum of fifty thousand pounds sterling hadbeen 
 paid into my credit." 
 
 "Twelve hundred and fifty thousand francs a nice 
 little lump." 
 
 " I found this letter awaiting me at home, after I had 
 left you in front of the menagerie, and at first I thought 
 that it was a hoax. But this banker asked me to bring 
 all documents proving my identity, and added that, if I 
 wanted it he would advance me my travelling expenses; 
 bnt I had a few louis left, and I thought that in my des- 
 perate position it would be wise to risk everything, so I 
 acted at once, and it was well I did so, for on my arrival 
 I saw that the affair was a bond fide one. I produced my 
 voting card, the receipts for rent, and the registration of 
 my birth, in which my parents were described as unknown. 
 He then asked me certain questions regarding my past 
 lif e, which I answered in a satisfactory manner, and then 
 I at once saw that he had been made acquainted with 
 various incidents in my life. I could not, however, obtain 
 from him the slightest information regarding the name 
 or position of my benefactor, as he merely contented him- 
 self with saying that in placing this sum at my disposal, 
 he had merely acted in accordance with a letter of advice 
 that he had received from one of his New York corres- 
 pondents, and that he knew nothing more about the 
 matter." 
 
 " But this is a perfect fairy tale you are relating." 
 
 "It is like one; and yet I am obliged to believe it, for 
 the money is at my disposal." 
 
 " I suppose you dipped into it at once ?" 
 
 " I should have liked to; but I should not have known 
 what to do with it, so I only drew twenty thousand francs 
 and left the rest with him. He will pay me interest 
 until I have found some good investment for it here." 
 
 " That will be easy; but I am surprised that you did
 
 50 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 not turn it into bills on Paris, in case your unknown 
 benefactor should change his mind." 
 
 " I never thought of that," muttered George. 
 
 " But you must think of it, and get your money over 
 here as soon as possible. You can invest it profitably and 
 afterwards you can sleep in peace, having nothing further 
 to dread at the hands of that queer fellow who has just 
 now taken it into his head to make you a rich man. 
 Above all, I warn you to lose no time, and for this rea- 
 son: those who know you will not deprive themselves of 
 the pleasure of talking over your change of position, and 
 will ask how it all came about; and I don't suppose you 
 want to publish this miraculous history everywhere." 
 
 "Certainly not," answered George, quickly; "and I 
 beg that you will keep it to yourself." 
 
 "Very well; but there are certain ill-disposed persons 
 who will assert that you are spending the proceeds of the 
 forged check, therefore you must show something more 
 than mere cash in hand. "When your notary for you 
 must get one can certify that you possess twelve hun- 
 dred thousand francs, no one can say that such a sum 
 comes from the check that you have been accused of 
 forging. We must even go further," continued Valbrec; 
 " the police have their eye on you. You were discharged, 
 but that does not guarantee you against any future pro- 
 ceedings; and I should not be at all surprised at the 
 examining magistrate calling upon you to give him the 
 name and address of your banker in London. What is 
 his name ? " 
 
 " Campbell," replied the imprudent Cransac, giving the 
 first name that came into his head. 
 
 'Very good; if they question you, you have only to 
 give his name and address, and when the magistrate 
 learns that the money was paid into your credit in Lon- 
 don, he will not bother you any more. All you will then 
 have to contend with is the malevolence of fools ; but we 
 can easily shut up these. But I beg you to believe, old 
 boy, that when I say all this to you, it is not because I 
 have any doubts in the matter. I am your true friend, 
 and I prove it by giving you good advice, which I am 
 sure you will follow; and now I will back you up against 
 everyone, and in all quarters. I have already told my 
 friends that you are about to inherit a large fortune, but
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 51 
 
 I did not say where from. They can think, if they like, 
 that it is from the inevitable uncle in America, and I want 
 to introduce you to them this evening. You will have no 
 further occasion to turn out copy as a means of liveli- 
 hood; but it is a good thing to be well in with the liter- 
 ary world. I have ordered a nice little dinner at 
 Brebant's, for eight o'clock, and I will go bail that you 
 won't be bored." 
 
 " I can't promise to come." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear fellow, you won't leave me in the lurch ? 
 Why, I have announced your advent, and if you don't 
 come they will think that you are afraid to show. It is 
 settled, is it not, eh ? At eight o'clock then, at Brebant's; 
 ask for M. Valbrec's private dining-room. That sounds 
 bhe right thing, does it not ? " 
 
 Valbrec then took his leave, and George did not at- 
 tempt to detain him, for he could not help feeling that he 
 had for the last quarter of an hour made him feel most 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 Poor George, from the commencement of his conver- 
 sation with Valbrec, had enveloped himself in a maze of 
 falsehood, and he would have had the greatest difficulty 
 in holding his own if his friend had pushed his questions 
 home. How, then, could he hope to sustain this tale with 
 persons who were not disposed to take everything for 
 granted ? The story that he had invented regarding his 
 trip to London would not hold water if strict inquiries 
 were made, and in the coming interview he had a sus- 
 picion that his statement would afford strong grounds 
 for disbelief. He certainly thought Valbrec's advice ex- 
 cellent; but how was he to place in a notary's hands, or 
 in a bank, the money that was concealed at the back of a 
 chimney a fortune, of which he did not even know the 
 amount, since he had not learned the extent of the gold 
 mine ; but which appeared to consist of coin which he was 
 utterly unable to remove in a single journey ? He would 
 have to make frequent trips to the ruined house, which 
 would expose him to many perilous meetings, certainly 
 more disagreeable than his encounter with Cecile Cam- 
 bremer. It would be necessary to conceal the money in 
 his room at the hotel, or else take it to the money- 
 changers for conversion into bank-notes. But these con- 
 stant trips would infallibly attract attention to him, and
 
 52 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 so the foolish idea that he had entertained of using the 
 hiding-place of the convict as a niche for his treasure 
 melted away. He must find out some other means, or 
 renounce making use of the treasure; and to do this last 
 would be to alienate himself from the only friend who 
 had stood by him. In the meantime, until he could hit 
 upon some plan to extricate him from his embarrassing 
 position, he resolved to pay a visit to one whom he was 
 most anxious to see once more. Since his sudden depar- 
 ture he had refrained from writing to the girl whose life 
 he had saved, and he was most desirous to see her; for 
 his rescue of her was the pleasantest remembrance that 
 he had carried away with him from Paris, where he had 
 experienced many hard trials, and w r here he had a pre- 
 sentiment he should pass through many more. 
 
 CHAPTER Yin 
 
 A BOUGH WOOING. 
 
 HAVING at last made up his mind, George left the Grand 
 Hotel and turned his steps, in the first place, to his former 
 lodgings in the Rue Frochot. At the time he took leave 
 of Cecile Cambremer he had given her that address, and 
 he was anxious to know if she had written to him during 
 his absence in England. There were, no doubt, other 
 letters for him in charge of the porter, and it was neces- 
 sary to notify to that extremely disagreeable personage 
 his intention of shortly leaving the lodgings that he had 
 occupied. On his departure for London he had given 
 notice, and he almost regretted that he had been hasty, 
 now that he saw the many inconveniences attendant on 
 his newly-acquired fortune ; but it was too late to recall 
 the written notice he had given his landlord, who was not 
 much prepossessed in his favor. Nothing, therefore, re- 
 mained for him but to pay up the rent that was due, and 
 to remove his furniture, as soon as he had found a suitable 
 spot in which to take up his abode. The fair of Mont- 
 martre was not yet over ; but when he came to its neigh- 
 borhood, it was the time when most of the shows are 
 closed, so that there was not that turmoil and confusion 
 that there had been on the evening when he was last
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 58 
 
 there. On reaching his home in the Hue Frochot, he 
 found the porter much more amiable; the man raised his 
 cap on his arrival, and did not attempt to put it on during 
 the whole of the interview. George told him to make out 
 his receipts by the next day, and asked if anything had 
 come for him during his absence. The porter answered 
 that no letters had arrived, but that two ladies had called, 
 who had not left their names ; they were both dark, one 
 was tall, and the other of medium height. The shorter 
 of the two had only called once, but the latter one had 
 been every day. 
 
 The medium-sized lady was certainly Celile ; but who 
 could the other one be ? However, this was a matter upon 
 which George felt no curiosity, for he had many lady 
 friends, and there was nothing surprising in one of them 
 having called on him. Of one thing he was sure, that it 
 was not Juliet Taupier, for she was as fair as the lily, and 
 did not correspond with either of the descriptions that he 
 had received. 
 
 On the morning of his departure he had received from 
 Cecile the note of hand as arranged, with one line ; 
 " Thank you ; I hope to see you again." It was evident, 
 however, that she had called, and this made George all 
 the more anxious to see her. Having learned all that 
 he wished, he left the porter, in order to look for a cab 
 to take him to the Avenue de Laumiere, where Cecile re- 
 sided, and whilst doing so he found himself in the midst 
 of the booths and tents that had been erected by the 
 exhibitors at the fair. But few of the shows opened 
 before the close of the day, and at this time the place was 
 almost deserted. Here and there a few boys belonging 
 to the neighborhood were playing at hide-and-seek 
 behind the booths and stalls ; venders of fancy goods were 
 arranging their stock to the best advantage ; a rope- 
 dancer, muffled up in an old shawl, was seated on a stool 
 mending her fleshings, and an acrobat whose trunks were 
 but half concealed by a threadbare greatcoat, was return- 
 ing from market with a basket in his hand. It was 
 the hour when the performers, who a little later on were 
 looked on as superior beings by an admiring audience, be- 
 came, for the time, simple mortals, and were ready enough 
 to accept a drink at the nearest wine-shop. Cransac had 
 often gazed on this scene before, and did not pay much
 
 54 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 attention to it; but his eye was caught by the figure of a 
 man in a jacket, seated on the shaft of a cart, smoking a 
 pipe, whose face he thought he recognized. The man 
 was of powerful build with an unprepossessing face, a 
 nose like a vulture's beak,and a huge, lipless mouth. The 
 cart, upon the shafts of which he was seated, resembled a 
 Noah's ark; it was of large size, with several narrow 
 windows, and had more than one tin chimney, from which 
 issued volumes of smoke and a strong odor of cooking. 
 It was what the mountebanks term a living wagon a 
 kind of movable house in which they reside and travel 
 about. A subdued roar made George glance in the 
 direction from which the sound came, and he saw a huge 
 circular tent, ornamented with a painting representing 
 Cornelian, in beast-tamer's costume, surrounded by all 
 the savage animals of the known world. George had 
 completely forgotten all about her and the ridiculous 
 episode of the whip flung at him through the bars of the 
 lion's cage; but he recognized in the smoke the man who, 
 pike in hand walked backwards and forwards in front 
 of the dens, and he remembered that he had kept back 
 the beasts with his pike when Cornelian had thrown away 
 her whip. 
 
 As the fellow continued to stare at him, George, who 
 had no desire to have anything to say to a person of his 
 kind, was proceeding on his way, when the face of Cor- 
 nelian appeared at one of the windows of the living wagon. 
 She only looked out for an instant, but in that 
 brief time she recognized George, and a moment after- 
 wards she appeared at the door. She slowly descended 
 the four or five steps of the movable ladder, then going 
 up to the man who was seated smoking on the shaft she 
 shook him roughly by the shoulder, exclaiming : 
 
 " What are you doing here, you brute ? Don't you 
 hear the beasts crying for their food? Run and give 
 them their meat, and be sharp; I don't want to be eaten 
 to-night." 
 
 And as the feeder of the animals appeared to hesitate, 
 she repeated: 
 
 " Quick ! Clear out of this." 
 
 He obeyed her with a growl like that of a savage dog, 
 who is kicked out of the way; but before leaving he cast 
 an angry glance at George the look of a servant who
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 55 
 
 loves his mistress and is jealous of her. George was 
 rooted to the spot with astonishment, and on looking 
 again at the girl decided that she was even better look- 
 ing than she had appeared in her fleshings in the lion's 
 den. 
 
 As a general rule, women of her profession only look 
 well during their performances, and their every day 
 dress does not suit them at all. But Cornelian, in her 
 black satin dress, a black mantilla over her shoulders, 
 her raven hair confined in a silken net, and a fan in her 
 hand, entirely resembled a Spanish lady about to take a 
 walk on the Prado, a veritable Marquesa d'Amaegue, the 
 beautiful Andalusian of Alfred de Musset's song. 
 
 George saw at once that she was about to come up and 
 speak to him, and as he had no chance of avoiding her, 
 he awaited her coming firmly. 
 
 " At last you have come," said she with a smile. " That 
 is all right. I was going to your house." 
 
 " You were going to my house ? " cried George, in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes, my dear; No. 19, Rue Frocnot, quite close to 
 this. I have been there every day since the first time I 
 saw you. When did you return to Paris ? " 
 
 " I have only just arrived. How did you find out my 
 address?" 
 
 " From Juliet Taupier." 
 
 " What, do you know her ?" 
 
 " A little; but I know a good deal of the chap that was 
 with her, and whose head you punched. I shan't forget 
 that slap in a hurry. I liked you when I was at work with 
 my pupils, but that blow of yours fetched me at once. I'm 
 the sort of girl that likes to see one man hit another. 
 Arthur took it quietly, did he not ? " 
 
 " Arthur ? " repeated George, interrogatively. 
 
 "Yes; the fair dandy who relieved you of your Juliet. 
 I knew that he wouldn't fight. I think he is fond of col- 
 lecting slaps in the eye. He had two given him when he 
 was with me. Just fancy my having been spoons on Vn'm 
 because he had a fine moustache. He is as ugly as an ape 
 now that he has cut it off." 
 
 " Then he was your lover ? " 
 
 " Only for a short time. He fetched me a bit last sum- 
 mer at the fair of Saint Cloud; it lasted just a month. But
 
 56 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 what of tkat ? After you had gone, I gave him his march- 
 ing orders. I told hirn that he wasn't worth much, and that 
 his girl would not make anything of him. That Juliet was 
 with you, was she not ? Oh, don't say no ; she proclaimed 
 it loudly enough. But that is all over now, for after the 
 affront she put on you, I don't suppose you'll put your 
 head inside her door." 
 
 Overwhelmed by this flood of endearment, George held 
 his peace, although he felt much tempted to make inquir- 
 ies regarding the rascal who he had publicly corrected, 
 and who had not ventured to resent his having done so. 
 Cornelian, however, left him no leisure to recover from his 
 surprise. 
 
 " So now, my little George, you are free. I have got 
 hold of you, and I mean to keep you. You are the hand-- 
 somest fellow that I have ever seen, and we shall suit each 
 other down to the ground. Don't you imagine that I care 
 a bit what that jade said about your having been in Mazas 
 over some bit of rascality. Well, suppose you have, you 
 suit me just as well. Why, anyone may be quodded in 
 Mazas." 
 
 George turned pale with the anger that was rapidly 
 gaining an ascendancy over him. 
 
 " And besides," continued the girl, " it is love at first 
 sight. I make more money than I want, and will never 
 take a sou from you, even if you were as rich as Roths- 
 child. I shan't, of course, object to your paying for a 
 supper, but that won't cost you much, for I don't go in 
 for swell eating cribs. Will you come for me after the 
 show ? " added Cornelian, placing her hand on George's 
 arm, and devouring him with her eyes as she spoke. This 
 was rather too much. Disgusted, furious, and irritated, 
 George wrenched himself roughly away, and said, coldly: 
 
 " You are making a mistake. I am not to be got hold 
 of quite so easily as you seem to fancy. I don't know you, 
 and I don't want to." 
 
 It was now Cornelian's turn to grow pale with anger, 
 and her eyes blazed with passion. "Why, you can't have 
 looked at me," cried she, drawing herself up, so as to dis- 
 play all the grace of her figure. " You won't find a girl 
 like me in a hurry, I can tell you; certainly not amongst 
 the lot from which you picked out your Juliet. I am twenty 
 years of age, my dear, and during the last five, in which!
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 57 
 
 have risked my body and bones every night amongst the 
 lions, I have refused the offers of princes and men worth 
 millions. If I chose I need not go about from fair to fair, 
 for I have been offered an engagement at the Porte Saint 
 Martin Theatre, in a piece which they were going to get 
 up expressly for me ; I was to play the part of a martyr 
 exposed to the beasts in the arena of Rome. What a sen- 
 sation it would create 1 Why, all Paris would ring with it. 
 Well, I just refused the offer, because I felt sure that I 
 should see you here again, and was afraid of missing you. 
 For the last ten days I have done nothing but run after 
 you." 
 
 "Well, I couldn't help that, for I was travelling; but if 
 I had known " 
 
 " Now, just listen, and remember all I am going to tell 
 you. My beasts obey me like dogs, and no one has ever 
 yet resisted me, neither man nor woman. You will not 
 do so, more than the others. Do you understand ? I 
 have taken a fancy to you, and mean to have you." 
 
 " This is too much," muttered George between his 
 teeth. 
 
 " Too much is it; I'll tell you more. You were right 
 just now in saying that you did not know me; if you 
 did you would also know that nothing could stop me. 
 My will is law, as you will find. I will kill you, sooner 
 than give you up; and if any woman interferes between 
 us, I will strangle her with my own hands, with these 
 very hands with which I flog the lions." As she spoke 
 she stretched them out before him, a thought too large, 
 perhaps, and a little sunburnt, but with well-shaped long 
 fingers, terminating in carefully-kept nails. She looked 
 quite capable of ridding herself of a rival. 
 
 George began to think this scene was more amusing 
 than alarming. He had pleased many women, but this was 
 the first time that he had ever had to defend himself 
 against the direct advances of one of the sex; but, as he 
 was resolved not to yield, he did not trouble himself 
 much with Cornelian's threats, for he knew that she could 
 not carry him off by force, and as he had no mistress 
 there was no reason to fear for her, 
 
 " Look there," continued she, pointing out the feeder 
 of the beasts, who at that moment came out of the tent 
 after having given the animals their meal. " Well, if I
 
 58 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 told that man to go into the cage with my two big lions, 
 after they had had nothing to eat for three days, he 
 would not hesitate a moment in obeying me, although 
 he knew perfectly that they would only make a mouthful 
 of him, he is so madly in love with me." 
 
 " A hopeless love, I suppose," thought George. 
 
 " Do you doubt," continued the girl, " that he would 
 think twice if I told him to kill anyone whom I might 
 point out; some one who had insulted me, or some lover 
 who had deceived me ? " 
 
 George could hardly restrain a shudder, for now there 
 was some tangible danger to dread. 
 
 The adorer of Cornelian looked like a sworn tormentor 
 of the middle ages, or a robber whom it would be advis- 
 able not to meet at night in a lonely spot. 
 
 " I shall take care not to go out for the future without 
 my revolver," thought George. 
 
 " Remember, you have been warned. At any rate, I 
 am spared another visit to the Rue Frochot; and now, 
 my dear, I will detain you no longer. I have a show to- 
 day at four o'clock, and another this evening at ten; but 
 I had rather that you would not come, for you might 
 distract my attention, and that won't do in my business. 
 The other evening, when I threw my whip at you, Frede- 
 gonde, my lioness, almost had me; but after it is over 
 you shall take me to supper. So if you don't wait for 
 me, between eleven and twelve, over there at the Cafe du 
 Bat Mort, look out for yourself, my little man, for it will 
 be war between us, and you will have to pay for all 
 breakages." Then, as she saw the man in the jacket 
 creeping up slyly, she exclaimed : "Get to kennel, watch- 
 dog;" and as he seemed inclined to disobey her, she 
 drove him with blows and thrusts in the back to the side 
 entrance of the menagerie, whilst George profited by 
 this movement to make his escape by darting between 
 some of the booths.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 POVEKTY'S BANKEB. 
 
 HE had reached the Place Pigalle, where he hoped to 
 find a cab, when some distance off he saw a woman whose 
 figure reminded him of Cecile Cambremer. She had 
 come out of the Rue Frochot, and was going along the 
 Rue Duperre. Cransac thought that she had been to his 
 house to make inquiries regarding him, but he wondered 
 where she could be going, for she was not returning to 
 the Avenue Laumiere in which she resided, which would 
 spare him a journey to Belleville. He resolved to follow 
 her on the chance, and see if she went in anywhere. This 
 portion of the town is full of artists, and ladies are very 
 fond of them; she might even have a lover amongst 
 them, and George wanted to find out if this was the 
 case. He must have been in love, for he felt a pang of 
 jealousy, and his love had sprang up without his knowl- 
 edge, for he was hardly conscious of the nature of his 
 feeling for Cecile. He followed her like a shadow, as 
 detectives follow those whom they are ordered to watch, 
 but not arrest, permitting her to keep some fifteen paces 
 ahead. If it was Cecile, she certainly had not squan- 
 dered any of the money that he had advanced her on 
 dress, for she wore the same hat and skirt as when he had 
 first found her gasping on the floor by the side of the 
 brazier of charcoal. Her health did not seem to have 
 suffered from her recent attempt at suicide ; she walked 
 firmly, like a woman who knows where she is going, and 
 is in a hurry to get there. She looked really charming, 
 and as George followed her with admiring eyes, he never 
 thought of looking behind him; had he done so he would 
 have noticed the keeper from the managerie following 
 him with the stealthy gait of a fox tracking his prey. 
 The fellow must have managed to escape from the booth 
 into which Cornelian had thrust him escaped, perhaps, 
 to pick a quarrel with the gentleman whom he looked 
 upon as his rival ; unless, indeed, he had been dispatched 
 by his mistress to dog the footsteps of the handsome
 
 60 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 young man -whom she was desirous of securing for her- 
 self. The Hue Duperre is not a very long street, and the 
 girl soon turned off to the right. " This is strange," 
 thought George; " why here she is going down the street 
 where Valbrec lives; surely, she is not going to see him 
 and yet, why not ? Paul is a deuce of a fellow, and 
 knows all the women in Paris; but no, just now he is at 
 the office writing his article, and my idea is an absurd 
 one." He, however, pushed on, fearing lest he should 
 lose sight of the woman who was such a puzzle to him, 
 and as he turned the corner of the Hue Fromentin, he saw 
 her disappear in one of the first houses in the street. The 
 door through which she had passed was not a private 
 gateway, for it had only to be pushed to open. George 
 Cransac knew well that swing door, which opens and 
 shuts without noise, and which was surmounted by a 
 lamp, upon which were painted these words, "Pawn- 
 broking Establishment, Office Z." He had in his time 
 been inside the place, where persons of social ranks meet 
 and mix, and those who are in easy circumstances are not 
 the least constant frequenters of it, for a pawnbrokers 
 establishment is more obliging than a friend and never 
 alludes again to the obligation that has been conferred. 
 Contrary to the general opinion, the very poor are 
 not those who have the most frequent recourse to it, for 
 the simple reason that in order to borrow you must have 
 something to pledge. The habitual frequenters are 
 petty tradesmen, gay women of all classes, fast men, and 
 gamblers. In these establishments, which have been 
 greatly multiplied, the customers vary according to the 
 quarter of the town in which it has been opened, and as 
 the office in the Rue Fromentin is not far from the Rue 
 Breda, or the Place Pigalle, it is much frequented by 
 actresses, and women of the middle circles of the world 
 of gallantry. Cransac had in former times pledged his 
 watch in order to furnish him with funds to go on the 
 spree with, but of recent years his commission on Stock 
 Exchange transactions had furnished him sufficient funds 
 to lead a merry life, so he had almost forgotten the road 
 to the " pop shop," and he was much surprised at seeing 
 the woman he was following go in there. " The deuce," 
 muttered he, between his teeth, "if that woman is my 
 debtor my thousand francs have not gone very far, since
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 61 
 
 ten days after she has received them she nas to pay a 
 visit to ' her uncle/ This hardly coincides with her busi- 
 ness-like idea of starting an artificial florist's shop, which 
 she told me of at the cafe in the Boulevard Rochech- 
 ouart." Then he began to wonder if this young girl, with 
 the face of a poetess, whom he had saved from death, and 
 destitution, was not, after all, a mere adventuress, who 
 had invented a tale to extract money from him. But, on 
 reflection, he made up his mind that this woman who 
 had gone into the pawn office was not Cecile, and that he 
 had lost his time in following some one utterly unknown 
 to him. 
 
 But in order to set all his doubts at rest, he went in 
 after her. The girl had gone straight into the public 
 room instead of going in by the little door, upon which 
 was painted in black letters, " Private entrance," disdain- 
 ing to avail herself of the accommodation offered to well- 
 dressed borrowers. Even in a pawn office there are cer- 
 tain social distinctions. Cransac imitated her, and saw 
 that the room was full. 
 
 The winter months press heavily on poverty. 
 
 The room was of large size, but full of silence and 
 sadness. It seemed like the entrance to some hospital, 
 and no one felt an inclination either to laugh or gossip. 
 Even the voices of the officials, as they mentioned the 
 sums that could be lent, or the nature of the articles re- 
 deemed, hardly seemed to rise above a whisper. The 
 borrowers answered in a low voice when the numbers 
 were called, and the shamefacedness of destitution would 
 have touched the heart of any rich man who might have 
 come in to look about him. The unfortunate creatures 
 pressed forward eager to get their business over, some 
 carrying small objects in their hands, and others large 
 bundles, which the assistants unpacked on the counter. 
 There was no time lost in spreading out and valuing the 
 articles of clothing, nor indeed in declining the pledge 
 when it was insufficient to cover the value of the loan 
 demanded. A woman would then draw back, her eyes 
 swimming in tears, and all was over. 
 
 The office for the redemption of pledges was not so 
 crowded as the other, and the formalities were not so 
 tedious, as all that had to be done was to hand in the 
 ticket and pay the money; unless, indeed, it had been
 
 62 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 paid the evening before, and in that case it was /ven 
 more simple an act. Articles which are not given up 
 until the day after payment were handed over in ex- 
 change for a receipt for payment, which was the work of 
 a moment. George, who had nothing either to pledge 
 or to redeem, gazed in the crowd for the girl he had fol- 
 lowed, but could not see her. Instead, however, he 
 caught sight of a woman, poorly but neatly clad, who 
 was arguing with one of the officials, who would not lend 
 her more than five francs on a gold wedding ring. She 
 had asked fifteen, but this was so much above the mark 
 that they had handed it back to her, and she was leaving 
 the place in despair with her head hanging on her 
 bosom. Misfortune is the parent of selfishness, and the' 
 poor, needy creatures around her paid but little attention 
 to her trouble. Scenes of this kind were of constant 
 occurrence, and fresh ones took place every day, but 
 George, who saw the tears start to her eyes, said to her 
 in a low voice as she passed him: "That is your mar- 
 riage ring, is it not ? " 
 
 The woman seemed surprised, but managed to stammer 
 out: "Yes, sir; but " 
 
 "And your husband has deserted you. How many chil- 
 dren have you ? " 
 
 "Three," sobbed she; "and they have had nothing to 
 eat since yesterday. The five francs they offered me here 
 would give them bread for four days, but what would hap- 
 pen afterwards ? I cannot get work " 
 
 " What is your business ? " 
 
 " I used to do knitting for the large houses, but I am 
 so poor now, that they w r on't trust me with the wool, and 
 I have no money to buy it. 
 
 " I know some one who will give you work," returned 
 George, " and take this to go on with," and as he spoke 
 he handed her a louis. 
 
 "I was not begging," faltered she. 
 
 " Nor am I giving you alms. You can return me the 
 money from your earnings." 
 
 " If I were only sure of earning something " 
 
 " I know a young lady who wants workwomen to make 
 artificial flowers." 
 
 " But, sir, I don't know how to make them." 
 
 " She will teach you. L Go to her from me, George Cran-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 63 
 
 sac. Her name is Mdlle. Cambremer, and she lives at 22 
 Avenue Laumiere." 
 
 The idea of sending this unhappy creature to Cecile 
 had suddenly entered George's head, as a means of satis- 
 fying himself that the girl had spoken the truth respect- 
 ing her workshop, which she was going to start again 
 with the thousand francs which he had given her, and he 
 was at the same time doing another good action, much 
 more disinterested than the first one, for the poor crea- 
 ture who he had just assisted was neither young nor 
 pretty. He received his reward much sooner than he 
 had expected, and in an equally unlocked for manner. 
 She thanked him with such enthusiasm that he had to 
 raise his voice to beg her to moderate her expressions of 
 gratitude, and his accents were recognized by a girl who 
 was standing near the counter at which pledges are 
 redeemed. She turned to look at him. It was Cecile. A 
 vivid blush spread over her face as she recognized him, 
 and she made a sign to him to wait for her until she had 
 finished her business. George hastily disembarrassed 
 himself of the women to whom he had shone so much 
 kindness, and then quietly made his way to the passage 
 outside the door. H was delighted to find that she had 
 come to redeem and not to pledge; as he perceived when 
 she approached him holding a little card board box in her 
 hand. But this corridor was not a suitable place for an 
 interview, and however pleased she might have felt at see- 
 ing him, and pleased she most certainly was, the place was 
 to public to permit of her indulging in any open demon- 
 strations. " I am so happy to see you," said she at length, 
 " but I did not expect to find you here." 
 
 " I followed you from the Place Pigalle," answered 
 George. 
 
 " I had just come from your house." 
 
 " I guessed as much, for I felt that it was you who had 
 called yesterday. 
 
 " Yes, it was I. I came here to redeem a pair of ear- 
 rings that my father had given me a month before his 
 death, and which I had been obliged to pledge, and as 
 your house was close by, I caUed and learnt from the 
 porter that you had returned." 
 
 " And I was on my way to your house when I saw you 
 a long way off."
 
 64 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " You were coming to see me ! You had not forgotten 
 me then ? " 
 
 " I have never ceased to think of you; and since chance 
 has brought us together again, I hope that wou will per- 
 mit me to spend the day with you. We have so much to 
 say to each other." 
 
 " Oh ! yes; but I must first go back to Belleville. I 
 have an order to get, and there is some work that I 
 expect home." 
 
 " May I go to Belleville with you ? " 
 
 " Certainly. How shall we go by tram ? " 
 
 " If you like; but why not have a cab ? " 
 
 "Because I have no money to throw away in cabs. 
 You paid for me once, and that is enough; and if we are 
 to meet often, we must place matters on a proper footing. 
 I shall be ever so much more pleased when I have paid 
 off my debt to you," added Cecile, casting down her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Oh I do not speak of that as if I were some trades- 
 man who had given you credit. Do you only think of 
 me as a creditor ? " 
 
 " You are my best, or rather my only friend, and it is 
 for that reason that I want money matters to be put on a 
 proper footing between us. Suppose I were to tell you 
 that since our first meeting I had made all sorts of pro- 
 jects, and had indulged in dreams which doubtless will 
 never be realized ? " 
 
 " Tell me what they were." 
 
 " No, not in this passage. I will tell you them at my 
 own house, if you care to climb up five nights of stairs." 
 
 " I will climb up ten if you wish." 
 
 " Well then, let us go," cried the girl merrily. 
 
 They left the office together, and in the most innocent 
 manner Cecile accepted George's arm, and were just in 
 time to catch a tram in which there were two vacant 
 places. There is not much comfort in talking in a public 
 conveyance, where your neighbors can hear every word 
 you say, but George made up for this by admiring at his 
 ease Cecile's charming features. She pleased him even 
 more than she had done on the night on which he had come 
 to her aid. The character of her beauty had changed, 
 and she had acquired a more life-like and mobile expres- 
 sion. It seemed as if the statue had been warmed into
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 65 
 
 life. Cecile seemed ready enough to talk, and during 
 their ride, as they were unable to talk of their private 
 affairs, she questioned her companion as to the poor 
 woman whom he had assisted at the pawn office. " Do 
 not laugh," said she, with a smile. " There is no neces- 
 sity for hiding a good deed; I saw you slip something 
 into her hand." And then, when she learned that Cran- 
 sac had even without asking her given the poor creature 
 her address, she thanked him warmly. " I will find her 
 some work," added she; for she now guessed that George's 
 idea in sending the poor woman to her was to make sure 
 that she had really gone into business as she had prom- 
 ised she would. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PLANS FOE THE FUTURE. 
 
 THEY got out of the train at La Vallette, and still arm 
 in arm walked down the Rue d'Allemagne. George knew 
 very little of this part of town, in which stockbrokers are 
 not likely to number many clients, but he permitted him- 
 self to be led on, only too happy to feel the young girl's 
 heart beating against his arm. " We are getting near 
 our destination," said she. " You are a long way now 
 from the Hue Frochot, but you will not regret having 
 taken all this trouble when I show you the pretty view that 
 I have from my windows." A few moments afterwards 
 as they reached the corner of the Avenue Laumiere, 
 Cecile, who had an eye for everything, remarked : " Have 
 you noticed that horrible looking man walking behind 
 us ? It really seems as if he were following us." Cransac 
 turned quickly round, and instantly recognized the keeper 
 of the menagerie, the unscrupulous tool and instrument 
 of Cornelian. George could hardly believe his eyes in 
 recognizing at Belleville the ruffian that he had left behind 
 amongst the booths in the Boulevard de Clichy. He had 
 never noticed the iellow following him to the Place 
 Pigalle, or that having hidden himself in a narrow passage 
 facing the pawn office, he had again taken up the pursuit, 
 and climbing on to the top of the tram, had got down 
 upon its arrival at Belleville. This discovery made Cransac
 
 66 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 feel rather uneasy, whilst Cecile, who did not know who 
 the man was, could not suspect him of nourishing any 
 evil designs against her. George, however, now knew 
 that he had another enemy in the field ; but he resisted 
 the strong desire he felt to go up to the fellow and ask 
 him why he was following him. And he was right for the 
 street is free to everyone, and Cornelian's slave had as 
 much right to be there as anyone else, and to insist on 
 his going in another direction would have led to a scuffle, 
 in which he might probably have been worsted. A 
 quarrel, besides, would only have terrified Cecile, and it 
 would be just as well for her to be left in ignorance of 
 George's adventure with the Lion Queen, and so he did 
 nothing except make up his mind that he would have an 
 explanation with the attendant on the wild beasts, if he 
 again crossed his path. 
 
 " Pooh," said he, affecting an air of perfect ease, " he 
 has, I confess, a sinister look, and I daresay he lodges in 
 the quarries in the Buttes Chaumont, but these fellows 
 who live in the lime kilns don't attack people in broad 
 daylight, and if he ventured to annoy you, here am I 
 raedy to protect you." 
 
 "Oh!" replied the girl, ,"I am not at all afraid; 
 besides, here we are, for this is my house." The h&use 
 which she pointed out was the last one in the avenue, and 
 consequently the next to the Park of the Buttes Chau- 
 mont, except the Town Hall of the working-men's quarter, 
 and really offered a very handsome appearance, with its 
 new frontage and its balconies at every floor. "You are 
 astonished that I am living in such a fine house ? " said 
 Cecile, with a smile ; " but it is to you that I am indebted 
 for doing so. I had received notice because I had not 
 paid up my rent ; but with the money you lent me I 
 saved my furniture, which was about to be sold, and what 
 is more, I re-engaged my workpeople, and have now suffi- 
 cient orders to occupy a dozen of them." They paused a 
 moment before passing through the door, and noticed 
 that the man was still following them but at a longer dis- 
 tance than before. Cecile, who was quite reassured 
 regarding him, paid no more attention, but George asked 
 himself if he would push his audacity so far as to enter 
 the house with them. " I warned you that you would 
 have rather a climb/' said she, as she began to ascend.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 67 
 
 the staircase after receiving a respectful greeting from the 
 porter, which was an excellent sign, for young ladies who 
 do not lead regular lives are seldom treated with respect 
 by these delegates of the landlord. George was well 
 aware of this and consequently his confidence in Cecile 
 increased. She had not exaggerated the number of the 
 floors ; there were five all told, but fortunately the stairs 
 were not very steep, and youth has good and active limbs. 
 
 George arrived at their destination without panting, 
 and Cecile who had no servant, pulled a key out of her 
 pocket and opened the door herself. Her lodging was 
 composed of four rooms, all looking into the street, and 
 the one into which she first introduced George could 
 hardly be called a manufactory, for it was not large 
 enough for workpeople, but rather the private workroom 
 of an artificial florist, the wall covered with a grey paper, 
 two straw-bottomed chairs, and a large table covered 
 with all kinds of small objects, the use of which George 
 was at a loss to understand. There was also a small 
 brazier full of burning charcoal, some utensils containing 
 pastes of different colors, a gum bottle and brush, packets 
 of brass wire, fragments of straw-colored silk, scissors, a 
 golfering iron, snippings of cambric, and a large box full 
 of moss roses, ready to be sent out. As George cast an 
 admiring glance at these last, Cecile remarked: " These 
 are my making. I did them this morning." 
 
 " Will you give me one of them ?" 
 
 " Not one of those. I will make one especially for you; 
 look at me at work." 
 
 " These are the stamens," said she, cutting off small ends 
 of silk, which she fixed at the ends of the brass wires; " I 
 dip them, as you see, in the gum to make them stiff, and 
 then I dry them before the fire. There, now that they 
 are dry, I moisten the tips with some of this paste, which 
 is made of gum arabic and wheat flour, and then plunge 
 it into this yellow tinsel. See, each little tip has picked 
 up a grain of tinsel, and the heart of my rose is completed. 
 The rose already begins to assume a shape." 
 
 " Yes; a butterfly could perch upon it." 
 
 " Oh ! no, butterflies know better than that. Now for 
 the leaves of the calyx; I had them already cut out of a 
 piece of green starched taffeta. There is nothing more 
 \Q be dpne but to put them together."
 
 68 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " Upon my word, I don't know why people take the 
 trouble to grow roses," answered George, with a laugh. 
 
 " I should be very sorry if they did not. I make artifi- 
 cial flowers, but I love real ones. Shall this one have 
 buds ? No, it would take too long. I have to sew up 
 the kid after having filled it with gummed cotton wool; 
 and now see, in order to finish it, I cover the wire that 
 forms the stem with thread, and roll round it green ribbon 
 paper. That is all; my rose is finished, and I offer it to 
 you." 
 
 George took it, and kissed it. 
 
 " I hope you are not going to put it in your button- 
 hole. An artificial flower there would be quite too 
 funny." 
 
 " I will place it on my heart," replied he, putting it in 
 his pocket-book, which was filled with the bank-notes 
 that he had brought from London. Cecile blushed, but 
 she hesitated to reply to this indirect declaration. 
 " Come," said she after a pause, " and see the rest of my 
 apartments; after that I will show you the view from my 
 balcony, for I have a fine balcony." 
 
 " I am poor, and you are rich." 
 
 "Not so rich as you fancy." 
 
 " If you were not, how could you have lent me a thous- 
 and francs, when you knew nothing of me ? " 
 
 " A man may have such a sum at his command and yet 
 not have a large fortune. I gain money by my labor, the 
 same as you do." 
 
 " Forgive me asking, but what is your business ? " 
 
 "I was an outside operator on the stock exchange; now 
 I am a pressman, or at least I am going to be one." 
 
 " A pressman ! " repeated Cecile, sadly. 
 
 " Yes. Do you not like the idea ? " 
 
 " Not much, for a literary man has, I believe, to li ve in a 
 world where the charms of domestic happiness are but 
 little appreciated." 
 
 " No, no, there is no necessity for that. Some literary 
 men certainly lead a very irregular life, but I declare to 
 you that I have no fancy for a Bohemian existence." 
 
 " Have you already tried it then ? " asked Cecile, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Too much perhaps. I don't want to make myself out 
 better than I am. You have spoken openly to me, and
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 69 
 
 so I will confess that I have been wild, and have often 
 squandered my money. But can you wonder ? I was young, 
 and had not found a woman that I loved." 
 
 " Young ! But what are you now ? " 
 
 " But now that I have found one to lead me in the right 
 
 path, I ." George hesitated and looked steadily at 
 
 Cecile. 
 
 " If I could only believe you," sighed she. 
 
 " What can I do to convince you ? " 
 
 " We must know each other better. What would you 
 think of me if I at once told you that I loved you ? " 
 
 " I should think that you had confidence in me, as Iliad 
 in you." 
 
 " Thank you for thinking so well of me," returned Cecile, 
 deeply moved. " If you always speak to me like that we 
 shall one day be happy together. You know hardly any- 
 thing of my past life, and I know nothing at all of yours." 
 
 " My past ! oh ! I have had troubles like you." 
 
 " But the present, the future. How shall we live for one 
 another? You, in the midst of a whirl of pleasure and 
 excitement, and I kept here by the necessity of looking 
 after my workroom : you in the Bue Frochot, I at Belle- 
 ville." 
 
 " I can come and live close to you, for I have already 
 given notice to quit my rooms." 
 
 " But you will not come to live in this part of the town; 
 it would be too far from your paper." 
 ' We could meet each other half-way." 
 ' We should both of us lose the same amount of time.'' 
 ' But, after all, I am not obliged to work for a living." 
 'Then I have guessed it: you are rich." 
 'And suppose I was; suppose that I had enough for 
 two ? " 
 
 " I could not share it with you." 
 
 At this firm reply Cransac hesitated, not knowing what 
 to say or do, for whilst this conversation had been taking 
 place his ideas had undergone a change, and he felt that 
 ttlgotten money would not bring him good luck, nor even 
 peace of mind, for his conscience would always reproach 
 him with having accepted it, and that he would feel more 
 at ease in earning his daily bread, now that he had found 
 a woman to make him happy. Why should not the career 
 of a journalist, in which Valbrec had offered to initiate
 
 70 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 him, permit him to earn an honest livelihood by his pen, 
 instead of using the ill-omened coin which had already 
 caused him such trouble, since he was compelled to explain 
 his change of circumstances by a series of falsehoods 
 which were most difficult to sustain ? "Would it not be a 
 thousand times better to again enter the right road, and 
 withdraw from the dangerous course in which he had 
 embarked ? All that he had to do was to invent a fresh 
 story, and tell his friend that the anonymous bequest had 
 been revoked, and to put back in its hiding-place the sum 
 that he had already taken out; and as for the amount he 
 had spent, he could repay that out of his first earnings. 
 
 " You hesitate," said Cecile. " "Was I not right, then, 
 in not indulging in vain hopes ? " 
 
 " You are wrong," replied George; " I was only trying 
 you. But the obstacle you refer to does not exist; I am 
 no richer than you are, and there is nothing to prevent 
 us from leading a similar life. You have just said that 
 you know but little of me. Well, put me to the proof. 
 You shall know the life I lead, and when you have con- 
 vinced yourself that I am not rolling in riches, you will 
 perhaps let me speak to you of love." 
 
 Cransac spoke earnestly, but all at once he saw that 
 Cecile was not listening to him. 
 
 " There he is again," said she, pressing closely to 
 George. 
 
 " Who ? " 
 
 " There in the street, the man who followed us. 
 
 Cransac looked down and recognized the fellow from 
 the wild beast show, whose very existence he had for- 
 gotten, but whose reappearance did not surprise him at 
 all. 
 
 " And suppose it should be the same man," said he. 
 "Loafers are not very rare about here; the fellow has 
 come for a stroll in the park here, and is on his way 
 there. It is all natural enough." 
 
 " I do not know why the idea should enter my head, 
 but I think he is watching us." 
 
 " What a strange fancy ! See, he is some distance off 
 now, and did not even raise his head as he passed under 
 your balcony." 
 
 " Never mind, let us go in; will you ? " 
 
 " I will do whatever you wish."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 71 
 
 They re-entered the room, and Cecile closed the win- 
 dow. " You have not told me that I may love you," said 
 George, gently. 
 
 " Do you think it necessary to obtain my permission to 
 do so ? " asked Cecile, with a smile. 
 
 " No, for I already love you without having asked your 
 leave," returned George, briskly. 
 
 " I can believe you; for though I have not lived long in 
 this world, I have learned that love comes .one knows not 
 how, and that we cannot prevent its springing up. Can 
 a soldier in the battle-field avoid the fatal bullet ? " 
 
 " Well, I have received that bullet, it has struck me 
 full in the heart, and I shall die " 
 
 " Unless I love you ? You deceive yourself ; such 
 wounds are easily cured. I have got over mine, and you 
 must not be surprised at my dreading love. I have 
 suffered so much from it already." 
 
 " Take me on trial" 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " The most simple thing in the world. Let us be simple 
 friends, until the day when you think fit to let love come 
 on the scene; and let me first prove to you that I am not 
 the man you think. To prove this, I must see you every 
 day. You will say that your business takes up all your 
 time. So does mine; but one does not work without 
 cessation, and we shall each have some hours of liberty. 
 Let us pass these together." 
 
 "I dread the fire," murmured Cecile; "I fear to be 
 burnt ! " 
 
 She first led him into the kitchen, which was also the 
 dining-room, with a stove and its accessories in one corner, 
 a walnut-wood dresser, scantily furnished with glasses 
 and plates, some chairs that did not match, and a table 
 covered with a piece of oilcloth. " I eat but little," said 
 she, as an excuse for the poverty-stricken appearance of 
 the surroundings; "but it is because I have but a small 
 appetite, for now, thanks to you, I need deprive myself 
 of nothing. Let us now go into my sitting-room; that is 
 a little more presentable." It was indeed a charming 
 little room, with four chairs, two armchairs, a clock sup- 
 ported by a .figure, and candelabra of gilt bronze. It 
 was just such furniture as you may see in the homes of 
 small shopkeepers, or in the room behind the shop of a
 
 72 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 third-class dressmaker, but brushed and kept in order 
 with the most scrupulous neatness. 
 
 " That is all that remains to me of those happy days, 
 when no one had disturbed my peaceful existence," mur- 
 mured Cecile. " Those few articles of furniture are what 
 I bought with my earnings, and I should have lost them 
 had you not so generously come to my aid." . 
 
 Cransac took good care not to say that they were hid- 
 eous in his eyes, but he resolved to give her some others, 
 for he already felt that he could not live without seeing 
 her very frequently, and he had no desire to come and 
 plant himself at the foot of the Buttes Chaumont. 
 
 " And now let us come out on my terrace," said she, 
 pointing with her finger to the window that opened on to 
 her balcony. 
 
 "Pardon me mademoiselle, but you have not yet 
 shown me all your rooms; there is yet ' 
 
 " My bedroom ! I have vowed that no man shall entei 
 it." 
 
 " What, not even your best friend, as you called me 
 just now ? ' 
 
 Cecile hesitated for a moment, then, throwing open 
 the door, she permitted him to go in. It was a perfect 
 school-girl's chamber; a little narrow bed with white 
 hangings, a washstand, and tiny toilet table, a whatnot 
 full of little ornaments of low value, some books in 
 stained pine shelves, and a side table in imitation of Jap- 
 anese wc|rk, comprised the whole of the furniture. Every- 
 thing snowed that the young girl led the strictest and 
 purest of lives, 
 
 G-eorge, however, caught a glimpse of a photograph in 
 a gilt frame placed on the side table, and without notic- 
 ing the pained expression that rose to Cecile's face, he 
 bent over to look at it. " But this is myself," said he 
 seizing it in both his hands; "my portrait when I was 
 younger. By what extraordinary chance " 
 
 "No, it is not you." faltered Cecile, in great distress; 
 " it is that of the man who resembles you." 
 
 "What, the man who treated you so cruelly; the man 
 you took me for in the garden of the house in the Rue 
 Gabrielle ? " 
 
 " Do not speak of him," returned Cecile. " He is
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 73 
 
 nothing to me now, and I blush to think that I ever 
 imagined I cared for him." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I believe you; but what a strange resem- 
 blance ! Any one would swear that it was I who had 
 posed before the camera of the photographer." 
 
 " Yes, he was very like you when that photograph was, 
 first taken; but since then he is greatly changed, so 
 much so, that if you were to see him now you would not 
 recognize him from this." 
 
 " I have no wish to do so," answered George coldly; 
 " It is enough for me to have found his photograph in 
 your room." 
 
 ' It shall remain there no longer," murmured Cecile. 
 
 ' What will you do with it ?" 
 
 ' I will destroy it, if you wish me to do so." 
 
 ' I have no right to ask you to make such a sacrifice. 
 You might think that I was jealous." 
 
 ' No, for people are only jealous when they lore." 
 
 ' And you think that I do not love you. Why do you 
 do so ? " 
 
 " I think that I have gained your sympathy; but as to 
 loving me as I wish to be loved, we are a long way from 
 that" 
 
 George's face flushed; he replaced the portrait on the 
 table, took Cecile's hands in his, and drew her towards 
 him. " How would you wish to be loved ?" asked he. 
 
 His eyes burned with passion, and Cecile felt that she 
 must extinguish the fire that she had lighted. " I will tell 
 you," murmured she calmly, " but not here." She loosed 
 herself from his grasp, and opening the window, stepped 
 out on to the balcony. She had understood the danger 
 which threatened her in that chamber, where they were 
 both alone together, and where she felt a strange inde- 
 scribable feeling stealing over her, which might be the 
 dual result of the promptings of the heart and the sudden 
 development of the physical feelings, for George had 
 pleased her more than she even ventured to confess to 
 herself. He followed her on to the balcony, the advan- 
 tages of which she had not exaggerated, for it commanded 
 a magnificent view of all that portion of Paris, and 
 besides was a safe refuge where she could be sure of not 
 letting her senses overpower her. Open air cools passion, 
 as daylight drives away spectres. " Listen to me," said
 
 74 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 she, as soon as George was leaning over the balcony by 
 her side. "I am no longer a child, and I have no false 
 modesty; you know that, for have I not told you of my 
 love for so unworthy an object ? My ill-placed love has 
 been cruelly punished, but if I were to swear to you that 
 for such a reason I would drive away all love for the 
 future, I should deceive you, and you would not believe 
 my vow. I am only twenty-two years of age, and I lack 
 the courage to look forward to a life of solitude and lone- 
 liness. But I feel that after the last cruel deception, I 
 never could love a man until I knew his character com- 
 pletely. I therefore will choose carefully the man to 
 whom I give my second love, and you would not, I am 
 sure, insult me by suggesting that my choice should be 
 dictated by interested motives." 
 
 " Oh ! no, never," cried George, positively. 
 
 " The man that I should love would only have to love 
 me, and to be my equal in position." 
 
 "What do you mean by your equal?" 
 
 " One who is like me in feelings, birth, and circum- 
 stances. The man who first inspired me with a feeling of 
 love was a wretch whom I now despise more than I hate, 
 and that will show you that I shall never see him again, 
 for though hatred may be cured, contempt never can. 
 What I ardently desire is one existence of two souls not 
 a mere worldly, daily life. No, no; let each work on his 
 own account I could not endure a life of idleness; let 
 each one work for the means of living, so that independ- 
 ence may be preserved. We shall unite our love, our 
 griefs and our joys together. We shall have but one 
 heart, as an old song ran which I used formerly to know, 
 but we shall have two abodes." 
 
 " Those are precisely my sentiments," answered George, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Yes, it is my dream the dream of which 1 spoke 
 before, but which, I fear, will never come to pass." 
 
 " It only depends upon you." 
 
 "Yes, I know; but then I am not your equal." 
 
 "You are; for I have no relations, and am as much 
 alone in the world as you are." 
 
 "We can pass them in public. Do you like the thea- 
 tre?" 
 
 " Very much, indeed."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 75 
 
 "Well, there is nothing easier for me than to get 
 tickets through my paper, which I hope that you will not 
 refuse; and as you cannot go alone " 
 
 " You will escort me ! Oh ! that will be delightful." 
 
 " That is all I ask. "When shall we begin ? " 
 
 " Soon; but I shall require a few days to install myself 
 in my new workroom; and when that is done, I shall 
 have more liberty." 
 
 "And you will keep your evenings for me; how can 
 I thank you enough? But, until then, I shall see 
 you " 
 
 "When you like!" 
 
 "Where here, or at my rooms ? " 
 
 " I should prefer your rooms. I want to prove to you 
 that I have unlimited confidence in you, and then, 
 though you will call me childish, I want to see how you 
 live." 
 
 "Speak out, and say that you want to see if I am 
 rich ! " answered George, with a laugh. " But reassure 
 yourself; my rooms are not much larger and finer than 
 yours. I will keep them until you tell me to move, and 
 when I do, it will be to come closer to you ! ' 
 
 " Oh ! distance is nothing. I am accustomed to omni- 
 bus riding. All I want to know is, at what hours I shall 
 be certain to find you ? " 
 
 "Whatever hours will suit you." 
 
 "And how about your paper? " 
 
 " I am not yet permanently established in it, and so 
 do not yet know how my time will be occupied; but 
 you will permit me to call to-morrow, and let you 
 know ? " 
 
 " I am going out to-morrow morning, but I shall be in 
 all the afternoon, and shall expect you." 
 
 "Then you agree to the trial?" 
 
 " I do, and as a proof of my sincerity, listen. I prom- 
 ised that I would destroy this portrait, but I feel that I 
 have not the courage. Take it, and do so yourself ! " 
 
 George took it, and kissed the pretty hand that pre- 
 sented it to him. He had not counted on this sacrifice which 
 Cecile had spontaneously made, and he would certainly 
 not have dared to ask it; but he thoroughly appreciated 
 the delicacy of sentiment that had inspired it, and he 
 accepted it as a happy omen for the future of his love.
 
 76 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 He was jealous too of the man who had first made an 
 impression on Cecile's heart, and vowed that he would, 
 if ever he came across him, treat him as he deserved; 
 and he had a sort of an idea that this man who resembled 
 him so much was his double who had presented the 
 forged check, and, therefore, he decided to keep the 
 portrait with a view to making further inquiries. And 
 now there was nothing for it but to take his leave, for it 
 would have been ill-advised on his part to prolong his 
 visit, and he would have died soccer than raise the 
 suspicions of an honest girl, who had trusted in his 
 honor. 
 
 She did not endeavor to detain him, and he left her, 
 with a thousand joyous visions dancing through his 
 brain, and leaving his heart behind him. He hardly 
 knew himself, so much had his notions changed in the 
 brief space of a few hours. When he left the Grand 
 Hotel that morning he had determined to carry on a war 
 to the knife against all those who had treated him so 
 cruelly, and to use for that purpose the bequest made to 
 him by his next door neighbor in the prison. He had 
 thrust aside all his scruples, and the hateful legacy was 
 no longer a burden on his conscience. The wise advice of 
 Valbrec had caused him a little anxiety, in opening his eyes 
 to the dangers of his equivocal position, but he had never 
 seriously thought of stopping short in the perilous road 
 upon which he was proceeding; and, yet, a few words from 
 Cecile Cambremer had upset all his previous resolves. 
 He entirely forgot his enemies, his plans of revenge, and 
 even Cornelian, who threatened him with her dangerous 
 love. He only thought of Cecile, and that sweet and happy 
 existence of which she had permitted him to catch a 
 glimpse. He had not wished to listen to the voice of his 
 conscience, and yet he had not been able to stifle it 
 entirely. He had argued to himself that he was at per- 
 fect liberty to use this money to do good to the unfortu- 
 nate who had been cruelly persecuted by destiny; but now 
 the scales had fallen from his eyes, and, though blinded 
 by a momentary evil impulse, he saw the correct road of 
 duty. This vast amount of gold must belong to some 
 one and he had no right to dispose of it, even in works 
 of charity. It was natural that he should feel unwilling 
 to denounce the robber who had trusted in him, but that
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 77 
 
 need not prevent his seeking for the person who had 
 been plundered. The disappearance of so large a sum 
 must have caused some sensation at the time of the rob- 
 bery, and no doubt the papers of that date would have 
 mentioned the occurrence. All that he had to do, then, 
 was to go through them carefully, and see if there was 
 any narrative of the breaking into, and emptying of a 
 safe by some daring burglars, and if he could find out all 
 about it, all that he would have to do would be to inform 
 the victims of the robbery, or their heirs, of the existence 
 of the treasure in the Rue Gabrielle. In order to do this 
 he need not even give his name, as an anonymous letter 
 would serve the purpose. 
 
 He need not even put back the money he had taken 
 from the hiding-place, for, doubtless, the exact amount 
 of the sum was unknown, and even if it were the owners 
 would certainly not be surprised at finding a certain defi- 
 ciency in it which he could afterwards replace, by sending 
 it to them anonymously, without running any risk. Then 
 he would have no more feelings of anxiety, no more pangs 
 of remorse; he would no longer be entangled in a web of 
 falsehood, and would be freed from the necessity of mak- 
 iug any more nocturnal visits to the Hill of Monmartre. 
 Instead of living like a millionaire, he could lead an hon- 
 orable existence on the results of his work, and so prove 
 himself worthy of the brave and true-hearted girl whose 
 acquaintanceship he had made. In order to keep bis 
 promise to her, he must take the position on the paper, 
 which Valbrec had offered him, and he hoped that he 
 would do well in it. He had no doubt regarding his 
 ability to fill it, for George had a fairly good opinion of 
 himself. These thoughts occupied the whole of the time 
 consumed in his return from the Avenue Laumiere, and 
 recurred to him again and again during the remainder of 
 the day.
 
 78 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A STUMBLE OX THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 GEORGE had now made up his mind to accept Valbreo's 
 proposal, and at the appointed time began to dress him- 
 self for the dinner at which he was to meet his future 
 colleagues. He took so much time over his toilet that 
 by the time he arrived they had already sat down to 
 dinner. He found half a dozen merry fellows seated 
 round the board, two of whom he knew as professed men 
 about town. All the others belonged to the world of 
 journalism. There was a retailer of the doings of society, 
 Valbrec, a political writer, a theatrical critic, and an 
 advertising agent, who was not the least important per- 
 sonage of the party. Valbrec received George with 
 enthusiasm, and all gave him a hearty welcome, though 
 everyone was well acquainted with his little misadven- 
 ture. But it was the lucky heir to a large fortune that 
 they were now greeting, for Valbrec had told them all; 
 and though they might, like his comrades on the Stock 
 Exchange, have turned their backs on him had his cir- 
 cumstances remained as they were, yet their utmost 
 respect was given to the million which he was reported 
 to have brought over from England. 
 
 George could have dispensed with their congratula- 
 tions, which he now felt, since his last resolve, were rather 
 ill-timed, but it was necessary to endure them, and he 
 made up his mind that during dinner he would tell them 
 that, in spite of this money, he was determined to pursue 
 the profession of a journalist." 
 
 M My dear fellow," said Valbrec, when the introduction 
 had been completed, " can you do without soup ? " 
 
 " Easily." 
 
 " Good; because it has just been taken away. You are 
 two bottles of champagne behind us, and must try and 
 catch us up." 
 
 " Fill my glass," answered George, gaily; and when 
 this was done, he drained it at a draught, and was soon 
 in a fit disposition to hold his own with the others, who 
 were not men to Jet the evening pa.ss. jp, dullness and.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 79 
 
 melancholy. The conversation became general, and the 
 most serious subjects were treated with sceptical sarcasm. 
 George was quite able to join in this conversation, for 
 his experience on the Stock Exchange had taken away 
 his regret for most things. 
 
 To his great amusement they laid bare, in a few biting 
 words, the characters of the celebrities of the day, poli- 
 tical, literary, or any sort whatever, and he took a promi- 
 nent part in the exchange of cutting remarks regarding 
 them. 
 
 After a day of intense excitement wine soon gets into 
 the head, and the tongue moves freely. George's remarks 
 became so witty that at last the theatrical critic observed: 
 " What a pity it is that you are so rich ! You were born 
 to write the weekly echoes of the day." 
 
 " I ask nothing better," returned George, " and I look 
 to my friend Paul to find me a place on his paper." 
 
 " Whenever you like, my dear fellow," returned Val- 
 brec. " You have but to say the word. I don't think 
 that you would make a figure in the heavier lines, but I 
 am sure that the lighter ones would suit you to a hair." 
 
 " A man is always successful who has plenty of money," 
 said the advertising agent." 
 
 " If," said the political writer, " I were a millionaire, 
 like M. Cransac, instead of scribbling for other papers, I 
 would start one of my own, and be the editor." 
 
 " With yourself as sub-editor," retorted Valbrec. " Don't 
 listen to him George, my boy, and be content with writ- 
 ing the skits that suit you. I do not think that you have 
 much ambition, and you will be all the more comfortable 
 from having no responsibility, Do you want a subject ? 
 Here is one. Why should you not start with one on 
 Mazas ?" 
 
 " A capital idea/ said the theatrical critic. 
 
 " You must commence it by a violent attack upon the 
 present system of prison discipline," remarked the lead- 
 ing article writer. 
 
 "I should simply narrate what I saw," said George, 
 who was a little annoyed at the allusion to his recent 
 adventure; "but I will take good care to mention the 
 kind of reception I received on the Exchange after I came 
 out." 
 
 ,f< The $t.oHx [Exchange fellows aje a regular set of ciirg,
 
 80 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 Now that you have money to invest they will wait outside 
 your door for hours, so as to gain a little brokerage." 
 
 " Talking of investments," said Valbrec, " are you still 
 resolved to buy a house ?" 
 
 "I have not quite made up my mind yet," stammered 
 George, who did not like to mention his new plans before 
 the present company. 
 
 " If you do decide, I can tell you of a fine opportunity. 
 Juliet, your old flame, is quite smashed up. Her house 
 in the Rue Jouffroy is for sale, and will go for a song. It 
 would be funny for you to take possession of it, after her 
 creditors had turned her out. She played you a nice 
 trick, so it would be a sweet bit of revenge." 
 
 "A bad lot, that Juliet/' remarked the theatrical critic. 
 " She has brought ill-luck to all her lovers." 
 
 " Don't you buy," said the advertisement agent. " Much 
 better build. I know of a splendid site to be sold very 
 cheap, and in a splendid position, on the Butte Mont- 
 martre." 
 
 " That isn't a fashionsble locality," interposed the politi- 
 cal writer. " You must have an interest in the property, 
 dear boy, and want to make commission." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. M. Cransac would have a 
 splendid view, and there would be something original in 
 the idea of establishing himself there. He would be 
 different from everybody else, and, in addition, I know 
 an architect who would undertake to build a charming 
 house there at a moderate cost. 
 
 George had picked up his ears at the mention of the 
 name Montmartre, but he did not for a moment imagine 
 that the spot in question was the garden in the Rue 
 Gabrielle. 
 
 "Gentlemen, you are most wearisome, talking about 
 real property and estate to people who have not a half- 
 penny to buy them with. I would as soon read the adver- 
 tisement columns in the papers as listen to you. If M. 
 Cransac wants to hecome a house proprietor, let him go 
 to his notary and consult him. Let us talk about women ; 
 it will be far more amusing." 
 
 " Talk about women ? Why, what else have we done 
 since we sat down to dinner ?" 
 
 ' Don't you talk. Is it because you mentioned Juliet 
 Taupier? Well, she dosen't count, because she has
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 81 
 
 gone to the wall Peace be to the memory of a fallen 
 star. Well, well, I only occupy myself with rising stars, 
 and I know one that will draw all Paris to her." 
 
 " Where will they be drawn to ?" 
 
 " To the theatre of the Porte Saint Martin where she is 
 coming out." 
 
 "As a daacer?"' 
 
 " No, as a tamer of wild beasts. She does the lion and 
 tiger business, and fetches 'the men besides. She is the 
 finest girl I have ever seen." 
 
 " Where does she hang out ?" 
 
 " Just now she is on show in the Boulevard de Clichy." 
 
 * I know her," cried Valbrec. " It is Cornelian. What 
 do .you say, Cransac ?" 
 
 " If you have seen her you will agree with me that she 
 is a magnificent creature, and will be a wonderful draw at 
 the theatre. la my next article, I propose to give her a 
 notice that will make her go like anything." 
 
 " You are in her good graces then ?" 
 
 " Suppose I told you that I have just come from seeing 
 her, and that I narrowly missed bringing her here to 
 dinner this evening ?" 
 
 " With all her beasts? No, thank you." 
 
 " Not with her beasts, but in her tunic and her fleshings; 
 and I tell you she is shaped like the huntress Diana." 
 
 " Brebant would not have let her come in, in that rig- 
 out." 
 
 " Well why didn't you bring her after all ?" 
 
 " Because she had a show on at ten o'clock. I entreated 
 her to come in afterwards, but she pretended that she 
 had an appointment at midnight." 
 
 " With the Herculea of the North, or the Eampart of 
 Montpellijer ?" 
 
 "I don't know. I think she has a lover in that class; 
 but that won't prevent her being the pet of all the 
 mashers when she comes out. I tell you that she will 
 cause a perfect furor." 
 
 George knew more than they did about this new won- 
 der, and congratulated himself with not having met her- 
 at dinner, for had he done so he was sure that she would 
 have begun her game o^ser again, aad he was more than 
 ever resolved to repulse the advances of a woman- who 
 evidently unfettered by the slightest feelings of mod-
 
 82 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 esty. On the whole he was rather disgusted that both 
 her name and Juliet's should have come up at table. He 
 wished to blot out the past; and it seemed as if all the 
 men with whom he was dining had conspired to remind 
 him of it. Each of them, he noticed, was working for his 
 own interests; the theatrical critic was raving of the beau- 
 ties of a girl he wished to push on; the political writer 
 wanted him to start a paper, for the sake of getting the 
 post of sub-editor; and the advertisement agent sought 
 to sell a plot of land in order to gain his commission. 
 But not one of them seemed surprised that Cransac was 
 desirous, in spite of his recent accession to wealth of 
 entering the profession of literature, for he still persisted 
 in keeping to the honorable course he had resolved on, 
 of earning his bread by toil, and not touching the stolen 
 money, a portion of which was even then in his pocket. 
 He had now come across a portion of society who accepted 
 him with all Iris antecedents, and not one of whom doubted 
 the fact that he had been the victim of a judicial error. This 
 reflection soothed him, and restored the equilibrium of his 
 mind. The end of the dinner was even gayer than the 
 beginning, and George showed that he was made of differ- 
 ent stuff from the brokers with whom he had until now 
 been in the habit of associating. George held bis own 
 with the most brilliant amongst the conversationalists, and 
 one of the company proposed to consecrate his entrance 
 into the world of letters by pouring some champagne on 
 his head. George, upon whom the wine had taken some 
 effect, submitted to this burlesque ceremony with patience, 
 but even amidst all these follies he did not forget Cecile 
 Cambremer. It seemed to him so sweet to call up the 
 remembrance of the poor work girl, who was so entirely 
 unknown to the merry band assembled round the table 
 and who seemed to him to know everyone. These 
 thoughts were passing through his mind when the name 
 of the Marquis de Simancas struck upon his ear, and the 
 man himself referred to in not the most respectful terms. 
 This grand foreign nobleman, according to them, passed 
 his time in dabbling in speculations, and in running after 
 the daughters of the lower ranks of Parisians. 
 
 George, who was still incensed against the marquis for 
 his reception of him, was not at all displeased to hear 
 that the conduct of his former customer was by no means
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 83 
 
 irreproachable, but the idea never crossed his mind that 
 Simancas might one day endeavor to dazzle with his 
 colossal fortune the fair florist of the Avenue Laumiere. 
 
 It is impossible to foresee everything. 
 
 A meeting like the present one could not be suddenly 
 cut short, and about eleven o'clock the advertising agent 
 proposed to end it by a game of ecarte. George ought 
 now to have left, but he was fond of cards, and had 
 drank enough to prevent his being cautious. He there- 
 fore remained, so as not to give offence to his new friends, 
 and he did not like to refuse when he was informed that 
 in his capacity as a capitalist it had been decided that 
 he should engage all the other players. The money that 
 he was thus compelled to risk was not his own but he 
 considered that he might make use of it temporally. The 
 money which he had taken from the convict's store had 
 already been dipped into, and he was not in a position to 
 refund it in its entirety, so he had effected a compromise 
 with his conscience, by which he was to pay back the 
 sum he had borrowed at a later date. He had brought 
 from London something like seventeen thousand francs, 
 which he had about him in notes of the Bank of France. 
 He might just as well, he thought, risk one, in the hopes 
 of gaining three or four, which would at once enable him 
 to repay the full sum borrowed from the unknown owner 
 of the treasure. There is a proverb that says, " Hell is 
 paved with good intentions," and this saying generally 
 proves true. The card table had been placed in one 
 corner of the large room in w r hich they had been dining, 
 and in sitting down to play George had expected that 
 the stakes would be moderate. Generally journalists are 
 not overburdened with cash, and he therefore expected 
 that the stakes would not exceed a few louis. He there- 
 fore took from his pocket book a note for a thousand 
 francs, which ought, in his opinion, to be sufficient to cover 
 the stakes, and in doing so, he unfortunaty permitted the 
 others to see that there were many more left in the book. 
 This was enough to induce them to make a combined 
 attack on him. The wary Valbrec put down twenty 
 francs, the political writer did the same, but the adver- 
 tising contractor began with five louis, and the two 
 other men risked two each. George's self-respect induced 
 him to accept all the bets, and he soon won a game from
 
 84 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 Valbrec, who gave up his place to the theatrical critic, 
 who was not more f ortunute. His run of luck continued, 
 and he encountered all his opponents with the same good 
 fortune. After the sixth game he had two thousand 
 francs before him, jwithout counting his own hank-note 
 which he had thrown down. He was in imagination, on 
 his way to the Rue Gabrielle, and resolved that very 
 night to put back the money he had taken, and so set his 
 conscience at rest. He made up his mind that he would 
 win five thousand francs, which would leave him two 
 thousand to go on with after he had made the restitution. 
 Three games more brought his gains up to four thous- 
 and, and he was strongly tempted to stop there. " Faith, 
 my dear fellow." said Valbrec, who had lost three hun- 
 dred francs, " you are too lucky. I shan't try any longer 
 to get back my money, and shall go to bed. (rood night 
 all. When you leave, tell them to send me the bill, as I 
 have stood the dinner. George fancied that Valbrec 
 was giving him a hint and prepared to rise from his 
 seat, but was stopped by a chorus of maledictions which 
 rose up against the runaway who was setting so bad au 
 example. "All you have to do now is to take away M. 
 Cransac,' growled the advertisement agent. " Why don't 
 you advise him to make off with his winniugs, whilst 
 you are about it ? " 
 
 " If I were in his place, I should go away," returned 
 Valbrec, calmly; " but he is at perfect liberty to remain." 
 
 And so Cransac stayed, though he was most anxious to 
 go away. The game went on but not with the same 
 results. The advertisement agent took the cards, and fickle 
 fortune, veered round at once, for he began to gain 
 immediately. The last game had cost George seventy- 
 five louis. " Will you go a hundred louis ? " asked one of 
 the players. Then, as George hesitated, he went on: " If 
 you don't accept, I will take your place; that is the rule." 
 George accepted the bet, and lost. All his winnings had 
 gone, and he must either retire from the field or dip more 
 deeply into the contents of his pocket book. He did so, 
 and the reverse became a total defeat; his banknotes flew 
 across the table like routed soldiers retreating before the 
 enemy. His store grew less, and less, and his adversa- 
 ries continued to increase their stakes, so that after a last 
 loss of five hundred louis, George found that he had lost all
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 85 
 
 he possessed. He need not have ceased playing, for his 
 opponents would have permitted him to go on on credit, 
 but he would not do so, for he already owed the adver- 
 tisement agent five thousand francs, just the sum he had 
 hoped to gain. A gleam of good sense flashed across his 
 brain, and he rose up from the table. His creditor in 
 honeyed accents besought him to take all necessary time 
 to pay his debt in, but he at the same time took good care 
 to give him his address, so that the unlucky gamester 
 could send him the money within the twenty-four hours. 
 The others had divided the rest of the seventeen thousand 
 francs amongst them, and George found himself exactly 
 in the same position that he had been on leaving Mazas. 
 The money belonging to his prison-mate had not done 
 him much good. Certainly it had been ordained that all 
 his good resolutions should vanish in smoke. After this 
 well-deserved disaster he had nothing to do but to apply 
 himself once again to the accursed source from which he had 
 drawn the first portion of his wealth, although he had 
 vowed not to go back again except to replace what he 
 had taken away. He could resign himself to endure 
 misery and privation, but he could not endure the thought 
 of being the debtor of a man who had some position on 
 the paper on which he was about to be engaged, and he 
 dared not extricate himself from his embarrassments 
 by telling the whole truth to Valbrec. 
 
 As he went forth into the street, with the chill feeling 
 of despair and death clutching at his heart, he murmured: 
 
 " I had resolved to become an honest man, but fate pre- 
 vents me. I will pay another visit to Montmartre.''
 
 86 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 AN UNHOLY COMPACT. 
 
 WHENCE come all these wealthy foreigners, furnished 
 with sonorous titles, who alight every year in Paris, like 
 the locusts do in the Algerian harvests ? Where have they 
 obtained their millions and their rank ? Have they been 
 formerly pirates, or only simple slave dealers ? Have they 
 escaped from some penal colony beyond the seas, and 
 assumed a new identity like the convict Coignard, who 
 was received at the Court of Louis XVIII, under the name 
 of Count Pontis de Saint Helene. In Paris no one is 
 suspicious of anyone who has plenty of money. People 
 highly placed in society treat them as adventurers, but 
 accept invitations to their parties. Tradesmen endeavor 
 to gain their custom, and the regular Parisian cad admires 
 them immensely. It is only the people, the real people, 
 who estimate them at their true worth, and who shrug 
 their shoulders when they see them roll past in their gaudy 
 carriages. The people thoroughly understand their inso- 
 lent pursuit of their daughters, and look upon the luxury 
 that they flauntingly display as an insult to honest poverty. 
 The worst of all are those who dabble in speculation, and 
 who often rob the unwary with the most perfect impunity, 
 as when the speculation turns out badly all that they have 
 to do is to put the sea between their dupes and themselves. 
 M. de Simancas was a magnificent specimen of the Trans- 
 . .atlantic adventurer. He had one day dropped on Paris 
 with the suddenness of an aerolite, and had resided there 
 for the last three years without anyone knowing anything 
 at all regarding his past. He gave himself the title of 
 marquis, and pretended that he had served in some portion 
 of the world with the rank of general, and some persons 
 were polite enough to believe his statement. Every now 
 and then he would give a splendid ball at his house in the 
 Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne, to which many would go 
 who would not have received their host in their own house, 
 and he had become one of those Parisian celebrities whose 
 daily doings are recorded by the Press; but his private 
 history, which many would have liked to learn, was still
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 87 
 
 trapped in impenetrable mystery. If the truth must be 
 told he had really come to Paris to do business that is, 
 to get hold of other people's money; and he only loved 
 two things in this world : money and women more especi- 
 ally money. Women held a secondary place, though in 
 his pursuit of them he allowed no obstacles to stand in his 
 way. He behaved himself in Paris like a bandit chief in 
 a town that his band had taken by assault, and every 
 strategem by which he could gratify his whims was legit- 
 imate. He had commenced by making the acquaintance 
 of all the ladies of the half world, but growing wearied of 
 these easy successes, he sought for other fields in which 
 the victory could be achieved by cunning or violence. To 
 tempt a married woman to forget her duties to her hus- 
 band, to profit by pecuniary distresses to buy a child from 
 an unworthy mother, to draw into a trap a virtuous work- 
 girl, were some of the pleasures that he most preferred. 
 He loved evil for its own sake, and he had more than once 
 lent money to persons in embarassed circumstances, so 
 that he might have the pleasure of hunting them down 
 with unflinching pertinacity. It was his natural vileness 
 of disposition that had prevented his testifying publicly 
 to George Cransac's innocence; and his reason for giving 
 his evidence before the examining magistrate was that he 
 always kept on good terms with the law, for he hated the 
 young man for having once or twice refused to mix him- 
 self up in shady transactions, when he had endeavored to 
 make him his tool, and he wanted some one who was less 
 scrupulous. 
 
 In appearance Don Manuel de Simancas was a hand- 
 some man, with hair, beard, and moustache as black as 
 jet, and eyes of flame. He did not seem to be more than 
 five and forty years of age, but he may have been over 
 fifty. He was a careful dresser, and his manner was of 
 that haughty character which impresses the uninitiated, 
 and some ladies who judge by outward show might have 
 been captivated by him. The house which he purchased 
 on his arrival in Paris was, like its master, extremely fine, 
 and the cage was worthy of the bird ; gilded reception 
 rooms, cosy private apartments, all furnished with the 
 greatest luxury ; summer and winter gardens, magnificent 
 stabling nothing was wanting. The life of this mighty 
 aristocrat was mapped out with all the regularity of an
 
 88 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 official ceremony. The morning was devoted to business. 
 M. de Simancas receive i his agents and financiers, and 
 gave orders for his operations on the Stock Exchange, 
 when he declined to show himself. At three he went out 
 driving or riding. The remainder of his time he gave up 
 to enjoyment, and he varied these pleasures by luxurious 
 dinners at a restaurant, choice parties in his house, or 
 expeditions in search of some beauty of whose charms he 
 had been informed by his emissaries. 
 
 The day after the night which had turned out so disas- 
 trously for George M. Simancas was talking to two or 
 three outside operators when his valet brought him a 
 card, upon which was inscribed the name of Juliet Taupier. 
 She was an old friend^of the Marquis de Simancas, this 
 ill-conditioned woman who insulted her lovers -after 
 plundering them. He had made her acquaintance upon 
 his first arrival in Paris, and had contributed somewhat 
 to the position that she had attained ; but he soon grew 
 weary of her, though he saw her occasionally to gain from 
 her some intelligence regarding the new stars that had 
 rizen on the horizen of the world of Bohemia, and infor- 
 mation regarding which she was able to furnish. Simancas 
 was ignorant that George "Cransac had been one of her 
 lovers ; indeed, he had no curiosity regarding the life she 
 led since his leaving her. She had cpme to see him thus 
 early in order that she might be certain to find him in, 
 and to take him by surprise, so that he might not refuse 
 to receive her. .* s he imagined that she might have, 
 come to announce the discovery of some marvel of youth 
 and beauty, he told his valet to usher her into his study. 
 It was a long time since Juliet had been admitted to the 
 more private apartments of the house, and she entered the 
 room timidly, with the air of an ex-favorite, who felt that 
 her charms will not be sufficient to reconquer the heart of 
 her former lord. The marquis received her without rising 
 from his arm-chair, in which he was smoking a cigar. It 
 appeared as if he wished to humiliate her, for he treated 
 her like a tradesman. And yet Juliet was very-pretty, 
 with her golden hair, her fair complexion, and great blue 
 eyes ; but the voluptuary was tire.d of her, and only 
 appreciated fresh faces, as she knew .well enough. 
 
 " Well," said he, roughly, " so here you are. I expect 
 that you have a proposal to make."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 89 
 
 ^' Two," answered Juliet, not .in the least disconcerted. 
 
 " Two are too much at one time." 
 
 " No, they are not, for they are of different kinds. I 
 have come to recommend a friend of mine t'o you, who 
 may be very useful to you, and to speak to you about a 
 charming woman." 
 
 "One of your friends," answered Simancas. "Who 
 can that be ? " 
 
 " My lover." 
 
 " Well, what am I to do with that gentleman ? " 
 
 " Whatever you like; he is good at everything." 
 
 'VWhat, even to taking a message to a lady. Thank 
 you, I only employ ambassadresses for that kind of work, 
 and I find you sufficient." 
 
 " Arthur doesn't get has living that way." 
 
 " Arthur ! a pretty name for the business. Well, 
 how does he get his living ? " 
 
 "He understands all kinds of business. I don't know 
 yours, marquis, but I know that in great financial opera- 
 tions you have sometimes need of an intelligent young 
 fellow not overburdened with scruples, for there are cer- 
 tain things that people do not care to' do themselves, and 
 Arthur would act for you much better than the brokers' 
 clerks to whom you entrust your commissions, and 
 who often make a mistake by carrying out your orders 
 literally." 
 
 " You are right; I am sick of these outside operators 
 I employed one lately, who got shut up in Mazas, and 
 who had the impertinence to come to me *and ask for a 
 "certificate of his innocence." 
 
 " That was a fellow named George Cransac, was it 
 not?" 
 
 " Just so; do you know him ? " 
 
 "Very little; he is not a very reputable lot. Arthur 
 would not have got into such an ugly scrape. Try him, 
 marquis, and I am sure that he will suit you." 
 
 " You don't keep this Arthur of yours very well, since 
 he is obliged to work," remarked M. de Simancas in the 
 most contemptuous tone." 
 
 " I don't keep him; but if he has any money, he would 
 share it with me, and times are bad just now, for I 
 haven't a rap." 
 
 " What ! you who used to live in such grand style ? "
 
 90 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " In your time, yes; but generous noblemen like you 
 are rare, and since you left me I have gone down hill 
 fast, and now I think that I am at the bottom of it, 
 for my furniture has been seized, and I owe money on 
 all sides." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " laughed Simancas, licking his lips like a 
 tiger who smells fresh flesh; " so you have tasted a bit 
 of poverty's meal." 
 
 To see any one suffer, more especially a woman, was a 
 rich treat for him. 
 
 " Well, my girl," said he, " you haven't come to the 
 end of your troubles yet. In your line of business, when 
 you once begin going down you don't stop in a hurry. 
 We shall soon see you looking for gallants in the Folies 
 Bergeres. " 
 
 "Well, if it comes to that, I shan't grumble; but I 
 had rather go into housekeeping with my Arthur, and 
 that is why I ask you to make some use of his tal- 
 ents, and time presses, for my house has been seized as 
 well." 
 
 " What ! your place in the Rue Jouffroy ? " 
 
 "Alas! yes, and I was so comfortable there, and to 
 think that I shall be reduced to take rooms like a mere 
 beginner, and must pay my rent weekly. Ah! if you 
 would only buy my house, instead of letting it be sold 
 by auction for half of what it cost me." 
 
 " And of what use would such a place be to me ? " 
 
 " Why you might keep a pretty girl there. Oh ! not 
 me, I know all that is over, but I can tell you of one who 
 is worth a good house, and something over. 
 
 " Oh, so that is what you come for, my poor Juliet; you 
 have lost your time. I have had enough of setting up hus- 
 sies in houses." 
 
 " But this one is virtue itself." 
 
 "Then she is an imposter who wants to make capital 
 out of her pretended good conduct" 
 
 " She is not what you imagine at all. She is a young 
 woman of good berth, and well educated, who works for 
 her living because she has no fortune, and is not at all on 
 the lookout for a protector. If I spoke about a house, it 
 is because I am looking forward to the future. Just now 
 you might offer her your own house, and she wouldn't
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 91 
 
 look at it, but later on she may not be so particular. It 
 is the first step that will be the most difficult." 
 
 "And has not that been taken already?" 
 
 No; and to tell you the truth I don't think she will 
 take it of her own accord." 
 
 " Well, and suppose that to be the case ? " 
 
 " A man of your character, marquis, always gains his 
 object; in the end she will yield half willingly and half 
 against her will." 
 
 "Yes, and blackmail me afterwards. Thanks, but I 
 don't want to have any trouble with the police. The 
 game is not worth the candle, as the saying is here." 
 
 " You would not talk like this if you had seen her." 
 
 " Is she so very beautiful then ? " 
 
 " More so than any one you have ever met." 
 
 " Fair, or dark ? " 
 
 "Dark as the night, with the tint and warmth of a 
 Creole." 
 
 " That is the style that I prefer. Is she tall ? " 
 
 " Rather, but not excessively so. Suberb shoulders, a 
 bust of marble, and a waist that you can span." 
 
 " Well, and what sort of hands and feet ? " 
 
 " The feet of a child, the hands of a duchess." 
 
 " And her voice ? " 
 
 "As clear as silver: one of those voices which stir up a 
 man's soul." 
 
 ' How old is she ? " 
 
 " Twenty-one. 
 
 " Of full age, that is a guarantee against any criminal 
 proceeding. But you will never persuade me that a girl 
 of that age " 
 
 " I will answer for her being strictly virtuous." 
 
 " I don't think much of your responsibility, but if her 
 other qualities are such as you described, and I find that 
 
 you have not exaggerated them but a work-girl, why 
 
 her fingers must be all pricked with the needle." 
 
 " They are not, and for the excellent reason, that she is 
 not a seamstress. She gives out and superintends the 
 work, but never soils her hands with it. I tell you that 
 she is perfection; a veritable pearl." 
 
 "And in what gutter of Paris have you found this 
 same pearl?" 
 
 " Not in a theatre, nor in a restaurant, nor by the lakes
 
 92 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 in the Bois de Boulogne. She lives as retired a lif e as a 
 sister of charity." 
 
 " Where doe&>she live ? " I must know that; for, as you 
 can imagine, I don't put unlimited confidence in you. I 
 must see her before going further in the matter." 
 
 "ThaHs only fair; she Irves at Belleville." 
 
 "At Belleville! " exclaimed M. de Simancas; " and do 
 you think I am going to Belleville to look at her ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. I know that the Mar quis de Simancas 
 could not put himself out to look for an artificial florist; 
 besides, it would most likely spoil the whole affair." 
 
 " Then we must remain where we are, for I can't buy a 
 pig in a poke." 
 
 " You are quite right; but she shall come to you." 
 
 " What ! will this excessively virtuous girl spare me the 
 trouble of such a jouruey ? That is what I call a most 
 convenient style of virtue. My good girl, I believe that 
 your pretended find is all humbug, and if you have noth- 
 ing more to say t6 me " 
 
 " Permit me to explain matters, I beg of you. She will 
 come, but she will not know whose house it is that she 
 has visited." 
 
 " I don't understand you." ' 
 
 " And yet it is very simple. She has an artificial flower 
 business, and receives orders every day. Suppose a for- 
 eign lady wrote to her to order some, which are to be 
 sent to America, don't you think that she would hurry off 
 to the address, which might turn out to be yours ?" 
 
 " Do you think that I would compromise myself by 
 writing to the girl ?" 
 
 "I will write the letter, and sign my name to it; an 
 English one would be the best. Choose your day and 
 time, and I will answer for it that she will be punctual." 
 
 " Very good. We will say that she comes, and then 
 
 " Then; why then, marquis, the rest concerns you and 
 no one else. Tell your valet to show, her into the little 
 house at the end of the garden, and once there she won't 
 come out again without your leave. If you don't fancy 
 her you can tell her that she has made a mistake, or that 
 some one has hoaxed her; that there is no English lady 
 residing here, and that you have no need of artificial
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 93 
 
 i 
 
 flowers; but I am not afraid of that, for when once you 
 have seen her you will be in no hurry to let her go." 
 
 " Do you think that she will consent ?" asked the mar- 
 quis, after a short silence. 
 
 " Of course not; but there, that is your affair, and she 
 will doubtless console herself as others have done. A few 
 banknotes heal all such troubles; there are certain things 
 which a woman does not like to make public, and she is 
 not one of the other sort, I assure you." 
 
 The marquis paused, and reflected before he made any 
 reply. Steeped in vice as he was, he was extremely care- 
 ful, and he hesitated to plunge into a dangerous adven- 
 ture. But the portrait which Juliet had drawn was stifl 
 in his mind, and the thought that he might succeed in 
 spite of every obstacle roused his passions, and then the 
 wickedness of the whole thing was like piquant sauce to 
 his jaded passions. " Very well," said he. " Write as 
 Mrs. Acton, that is my housekeeper's name. I will give 
 my servants their orders, and all will be ready." 
 
 " That is right !" exclaimed the vile worfian. " Had 
 you hesitated to profit by so favorable a chance, I should 
 have thought Don Manuel de Simancas had greatly 
 changed for the worse ; but now my mind is at rest, and 
 after to-morrow you will thank me warmly." 
 
 " Say rather what you mean, and that is that I should 
 make you a handsome present." 
 
 "Oh! I rely entirely on your generosity, marquis. All 
 I ask of you is to do something for my Arthur." 
 
 "JLiet your Arthur go to the deuce. I don't know him, 
 and I don't want to." 
 
 " Only consent to see him; that will not in- any way bind 
 you, and he can best explain to you himself in what way 
 he can be useful to you." 
 
 " You are very pertinacious. Let him come to me to- 
 morrow at eleven o'clock; only I tell you plainly that if 
 he doesn't suit me, out he goes." 
 
 " I agree to that." 
 
 " At any rate, you can take this with you," added the ' 
 marquis, opening a drawer, and taking out a bank-note 
 for a thousand francs, and throwing it to Juliet, who 
 pounced on it at once, and putting it in her bosom was 
 bursting into a flood of thanks,/^vhich the marquis cut 
 short, and dismissed her without any ceremony.
 
 94 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 If M. de Simancas had been able to follow her with his 
 eyes he would have seen an amusing sight. 
 
 Arthur was waiting for his fair friend on a bench in the 
 Avenue de Bois de Boulogne, but as soon as he saw her 
 coming he rose from his seat, and sauntered in the opposite 
 direction, knowing that she would speedily folio whim, and 
 he had no desire to meet her almost under the windows 
 of the marquis. Juliet came up with her well-matched 
 lover, some fifty yards from the Rue Pergolese. 
 
 " Well?" asked Arthur. 
 
 " I had some trouble in making him listen to me, but I 
 managed it at last. He will see the girl at five o'clock 
 to-morrow, so I have no time to lose in writing to the 
 little prude." 
 
 " Did you say anything about me ?" 
 
 "Yes, and that was a far harder matter; but he 
 promised to see you to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Good; all I want is to see him." 
 
 " I am glad that you are satisfied, but what is the busi- 
 ness that you are going to propose to him ?" 
 
 " My dear, that is my lookout. I have one that he 
 will snap at, I am certain." 
 
 " You might tell me all about it." 
 
 "No good. Women don't understand these matters. 
 Your line is to decoy the girl into the trap, and when she 
 is there, w r e will see what more we can make out of the 
 foreign swell." 
 
 " We will get all we can, by threatening to report the 
 matter to the police." 
 
 " It was my idea to bait the hook with the girl, and it 
 was a golden one. No more Queer Street then, and I 
 shall be able to do business on a grand scale, and leave 
 off little swindles." 
 
 " If you make a fortune, you will owe it to me, and I 
 shall expect my share." 
 
 " Of course, of course," answered Arthur; but there was 
 none of that heartiness in his tone that bears conviction 
 with it. 
 
 " And also that you won't leave me for another girl." 
 
 " Come, come, no jealousy. It appears to me that I have 
 given you proofs. You were always telling me that I had 
 a hankering after Cecile, and it was to shut your mouth
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 95 
 
 that I showed you the way to throw her into the clutches 
 of Simancas." 
 
 "A question of money, not of sentiment," replied Juliet, 
 who had fathomed the baseness of her lover s disposition. 
 
 "Did I make a fuss about you and your George," 
 retorted Arthur. 
 
 " You know I only cared about his money, and now he 
 hasn't got one coin to rub against another." 
 
 " But he has friends in the literary world, and may 
 pick himself up again." 
 
 "Never, he is too great a fool; besides, after the way 
 in which I treated him at Montmartre, he won't be too 
 anxious to come across me again." 
 
 Arthur did not care to be reminded of the slap in the 
 face he had received at that meeting, and therefore cut 
 short his mistress' discourse. 
 
 "Will you get anything out of the marquis for your 
 information ?" 
 
 " Not a rap, my dear. The marquis is as artful as Old 
 Nick. He pays well when he is well served, but he doesn't 
 come down in advance." 
 
 Arthur said no more, but Juliet could see plainly that 
 he did not believe her, and she determined, upon her 
 arrival at home, to hide her banknote carefully, so that 
 it might not be found by the fellow whom she termed her 
 real lover, probably because neither of them had an idea 
 what real love meant. 
 
 Their interesting conversation had carried them as far 
 as the Place de 1'Etoile, and, as the funds were low, they 
 were about to take the omnibus, at the entrance of the 
 Avenue Wagram, which passes down the Avenue Villiers, 
 close by the Hue Jouffroy, when they saw a woman in an 
 open carriage disputing with her coachman in the middle 
 of the street. " Look there ! " cried Juliet ; " talk of the 
 devil, etc. "Why, there is the wild beast girl, that threw 
 her whip at Cransac." 
 
 "Well, what of that? I don't suppose you want to speak 
 to her," said Arthur, endeavoring to draw his fair com- 
 panion in an opposite direction. 
 
 But Cornelian had good eyes, and recognizing them 
 both in a moment, jumped out of her cab, and came straight 
 up to the affectionate couple, who were endeavoring to 
 avoid her.
 
 96 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 
 
 " CHAPTER TJTT. 
 
 > A SLIGHTED WOMAN. 
 
 ARTHUR and Juliet could hardly believe their eyes, for 
 in everyday, costume the Lion Queen was hardly recogniz- 
 able. Juliet had only seen her once in her fleshings, and 
 though Arthur, had been dh more intimate terms with 
 her, he was notPaware that she possessed such handsome 
 clothes. Ever since the Fair of Saint Cloud, where he 
 had first met her, Cornelian had taken far more pains with 
 her toilet. The plaid shawl, -which she had formerly con- 
 sidered good enough when she played in the suburbs, 
 had been replaced by an elegant mantle from^the Magasin 
 de Louvre, and her cotton dress, by a superb silk costume. 
 
 Certainly Arttiur had nothing to do with this change, 
 for he never spent anything on his lady loves, and that 
 Juliet knew well, but Cornelian, who had for the past year 
 been sharing the profits of the menagerie, could afford to 
 dispense with -funds from her lovers. What could she 
 want with the well-matched pair ? Arthur suspected that 
 she was going to pour out the vials of her jealousy on his 
 head, and Juliet feared that this tanaer of savage beasts 
 was about to scratch out her eyes. And yet the ladies 
 had parted on the best of terms; after the performance, 
 when Arthur had received his -box on the ear, Cornelian 
 had asked Juliet for George's address, which had been 
 given, but the matter had ended there, and to-day the wind 
 might be in syiothep quarter. She felt, however, more 
 comfortable when Cornelian came up* to her with a smile 
 on her face. 
 
 G-ood day, my dears," began the tamer of animals, who 
 was perfectly free from' all prejudice. "It seems that 
 you are still together, and I am delighted, for I wanted 
 to see you both, and since I have met you I can kill two 
 birds with one stone. But we cannot talk _ here because 
 of all the carriages. Shall we walk np to the Arch of 
 Triumph ? " Arthur and Juliet followed her, wondering 
 much what she c6uld have to say to them, and the con- 
 versation commenced under that magnificent monument 
 raised in commemoration of the glory of the French
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 97 
 
 Army. " My boy," began Cornelian, "you know that we have 
 always been good Mends. I bad a weakness for you 
 once, but that is over and past, and I congratulate you 
 on your friend here, who is really charming." 
 
 Juliet, who was much nattered, smiled amiably. 
 
 " And she was quite right to take up with you, for 
 you were always a pretty fellow." 
 
 It was now Arthur's turn to bow his thanks ; but both 
 he and Juliet asked themselves : "What can she be driving 
 at? 
 
 " And so," continued the Lion Queen, " I thought that 
 you would not refuse to aid me in revenging myself on 
 an insolent hound, who has behaved ill to me, and whom 
 you both know; I mean George Cransac." 
 
 ' George Cransac ! " cried Arthur and Juliet in 
 chorus. 
 
 " The same. You, my dear girl, he has thrown up in 
 a most shabby manner, and you, Arthur, he has slapped 
 in public. He fetched me awfully. I don't attempt to 
 hide it from you since you were at the menagerie that 
 evening. I made an appointment for him yesterday 
 night, after the performance, and my gentleman never 
 turned up. Such a thing has never happened to me 
 before, and shall never again; but for all that I will 
 make him remember his treatment of me." 
 
 " Pooh," returned Arthur. " He is in an awful hole, 
 and you had better leave him there. What can you do 
 with a man who has just come out of Mazas, and who 
 may go back there any morning ? I could not, of course, 
 condescend to go out with him." 
 
 " And for my part," added Juliet, " I care no more for 
 him than I do for the first pair of boots I ever had. You 
 saw how I treated him, and if I may give you a bit of 
 advice it is, do the same. Out at elbows fellows like that 
 don't deserve that a woman should occupy herself about 
 them." 
 
 " Out at elbows he is not, for he has come into a 
 fortune." 
 
 "Since when?" 
 
 " Since last week. A journalist who knows both of us, 
 told me so; but it is all the same to me whether he had 
 money or not. It is the man I want, and I know why he 
 won't have anything to do with me; it is because he has
 
 98 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 got a mistress, a minx, who is not to be compared to me, 
 and it is through her that I will be revenged on him." 
 
 " What a fresh mistress ! " murmured Juliet, who 
 immediately began to regret having broken with George 
 now that she heard he was rich once more. 
 
 " Goliath was on the scout and saw her yesterday with 
 him. Goliath is the chap that cleans out my lions' cages, 
 a brute who is in love with me, but he ran them both to 
 earth; and now that I know where the jade lives, I am 
 only longing to think how I can pay her off. I always 
 come back to the same idea, of laying my whip about her 
 ears at the first opportunity, and you can make that 
 opportunity for me." 
 
 " The idea is an excellent one," sneered Arthur, " only 
 I don't see how I and Juliet can help you." 
 
 " In this way, I want to get her into some quiet spot, 
 where I can thrash her at my leisure, and Goliath can't 
 do the job for me, because she noticed that he was fol- 
 lowing her, and may distrust him. But you can do it; 
 she doesn't know you; and if you ask her under some 
 pretext or other to meet you some evening in a lonely 
 part of the town " 
 
 " That won't act," said Arthur. 
 
 " No, not if I try it on, for she may think that you are 
 after her, but if Madame Juliet would consent." 
 
 " A nasty job," muttered Juliet, who felt no inclination 
 to compromise herself for nothing. 
 
 " And, besides, what good will it do ? You will have 
 the satisfaction of horsewhipping her, but it may cost 
 you dear; if you were caught in the act you might get 
 more than you bargained for, and Cransac would only be 
 the fonder of her because of the ill-treatment she had re- 
 ceived at your hands." 
 
 " Would he ? " said Cornelian, with an evil smile. " I 
 do my work thoroughly, so much so that she wouldn't 
 care so show herself afterwards. I'd mark her face, 
 break one or two of her teeth, and certainly knock out 
 one eye." 
 
 " You always go in for gentle measures, the same as 
 you deal out to your lions. But I know a better means 
 of making George disgusted with" 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " Get her another lover."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 99 
 
 " It is no go with that oue. Goliath has made enqui- 
 ries in the crib where she lives. She is a real prude, and 
 Gransac is the only man she has been seen with." 
 
 " Where does she live ? " asked Juliet, who had half an 
 idea that she was about to make an unexpected find. 
 The snare which she and her base lover were about to 
 set for Cecile Cambremer might serve to entrap another 
 youusf girl, as long as she was as pretty as the florist, 
 and she saw her way to opening a fresh negotiation with 
 Simaucas, who was fond of change. In setting the first 
 she only hoped to gain a heavy commission on the 
 shameful transactions, by the ruin of a young girl, to 
 which project Arthur was prepared to lend himself, 
 with the most cold-blooded infamy ; but she never for a 
 moment thought that in throwing Cecile into the arms of 
 Simaucas she was dealing a fatal blow to George's new 
 born love. 
 
 " Why should I tell you, if you are not going to help 
 me?" asked Cornelian. 
 
 " Tell me, at any rate, and we will see what we can do 
 afterwards," said Juliet. 
 
 " Well, then, she lives at Belleville." 
 
 "At Belleville ! " repeated Juliet, in astonishment. 
 
 "Yes; Avenue de Laumiere, close to the Park of Buttes 
 Chaumont, a famous spot in which to give the jade a 
 sound hiding." 
 
 " What does she do for a living ? " asked Arthur, 
 quickly. 
 
 " She pretends to be an artificial flower maker to con- 
 ceal her real game; but I'll lay one of my best lions 
 against a street cat that she has her little sprees on 
 the sly. Cambremer is her name, Cecile Cambremer; but 
 what is the matter with you two that you are staring so 
 at each other ? " 
 
 The two accomplices had settled the matter with a 
 glance. 
 
 " You wish to revenge yoxirself on the girl ? " said 
 Juliet. 
 
 " Yes, and sharp too." 
 
 " Well, you can do so. Your revenge is already, and I 
 have prepared it for you." 
 
 "Then you know this Cecile ?" asked Cornelian i'u 
 astonishment.
 
 100 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "Yes; and now listen: I am going to play the hussy a 
 trick that will disgust Cransac with her forever and a 
 day." 
 
 " But that won't prevent my giving her a thrashing, 
 will it?" 
 
 " Certainly, it would spoil all." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " If you spoil her looks, our gentleman would not care 
 about her." 
 
 " Who is your gentleman ? " 
 
 " A rich Spaniard, who has bought her of me." 
 
 "I don't understand you." 
 
 " Just let me do it my own way. She will be lured to 
 his house to-morrow; and once there, she will remain until 
 he is tired of her. Cransac may look for her, and if he 
 does find her, it will be there; and you may be sure that 
 he won't take up with her again. The idiot is going in 
 for virtue now, and after she has passed a week in th 
 Spaniard's cage, he will have nothing more to do with 
 her." 
 
 This time Cornelian could not misunderstand their 
 intentions, and the expression of her face changed. She 
 was made of different stuff to Juliet, and, though both 
 passionate and vindictive, and one who would use the 
 most violent measures against a rival, she would never 
 have descended so low as to lure a girl into a trap to 
 revenge herself on a faithless lover. " And is it you ? " 
 asked she, " who have hit on this famous plan ? " 
 
 " Yes, I natter myself that it is entirely my own," replied 
 Juliet, without flinching. 
 
 " Then you too must be jealous of George Cransac." 
 
 "Not a bit of it; and the proof of it is that I did not 
 know that he had anything to do with the girl." 
 
 " Why do you w r ish to ruin her then ? " 
 
 " Because I shall find it to my advantage. The Spaniard 
 is very open handed." 
 
 At this vilely cynical reply Cornelian could no longer 
 restrain herself, and her anger and disgust blazed out. 
 " And you too," asked she, turning to Arthur, " are you 
 to have a share in this business ? " 
 
 " What is that to you ? " asked Juliet's lover insolently. 
 
 " It is this much, that I am disgusted with the pair of
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 101 
 
 you and want to have nothing more to do with your black- . 
 guardisms." 
 
 "Thank you !" exclaimed Juliet; "and so this is your grat- 
 itude for having given you Cransac's address the night he 
 fetched you so ? " 
 
 " I could have done without you then, and I will take 
 good care to do so for the future. I'll have my revenge, 
 but I will have it my own way. I'll go and find this woman 
 who has taken George from me, and we will have a little 
 explanation together. I may break a bone or two belong- 
 ing to her, but, before doing so, I will let her know your 
 infernal plans. Get out of my path, you reptiles." 
 
 Cornelian spat on the ground as a sign of her disgust, 
 and stepping briskly into her cab, was driven away in the 
 direction of the Bois de Boulogne. 
 
 Those arches upon which are carved the names of the 
 battles won by our brave soldiers in the time of the First 
 Bepublic had doubtless never echoed to such a conversa- 
 tion, but the Lion Queen had come out of it with all honor. 
 Arthur and Juliet remained where they were, crushed 
 down under the contempt and the threats of Cornelian, 
 who was willing enough to kill her rival, but whose whole 
 soul revolted against the idea of selling her. 
 
 " You have made a nice mess of it," said Arthur, roughly. 
 "What need had you to talk about the Spaniard? " 
 
 " Who would have supposed that this tamer of beasts 
 would have had any scruples ? " 
 
 " Well, you ought to have been more careful. Now, for 
 all we know, she may be against us, and the whole thing 
 is upset." 
 
 " She may not do so." 
 
 " Why, has she not threatened to warn Cecile ? and 
 she is just the girl to do it." 
 
 "I don't know; she may think twice before she does 
 so. But I wonder where Cransac could have met this 
 girl; not when he was with me, for he only left me to 
 go to the Stock Exchange, or to visit his clients." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but since he came out of Mazas he has 
 had plenty of time to make fresh acquaintances, especi- 
 ally if he has come into money, as this girl says he has." 
 
 " Folly ! From whom could he have inherited ? He 
 was an illegitimate child; he must have stolen it." 
 
 " And it would not be the first time that he did so, for,
 
 102 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 as you know, they quodded him once. If he took up 
 with Cornelian it would be a proper household, for she 
 is a thief's child." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " She told me so herself once; indeed, she makes no 
 secret of it. Her father has already done a stretch of 
 ten years, and he won't be contented with that. But 
 that is a matter of no importance. The Simancas affair 
 is off." 
 
 " Why so ? Cornelian won't be sufficiently f oolish to 
 go and warn Cecile ; she is more likely to give her a good 
 licking first, and you don't give good advice to a woman 
 after thrashing her; besides, even if she does mention 
 us, why should not the plan succeed all the same? "What 
 have I said, after all, to Cornelian ? That I was going to 
 send the girl to a rich Spaniard, but I did not give his 
 name; then the letter to her will be signed by an Eng- 
 lishwoman, Georgina Acton. That is all arranged, and 
 the marquis has given the necessary orders to his ser- 
 vants. Cecile will never guess that it is a man that is 
 waiting for her, and she will walk straight into the wolf's 
 mouth." 
 
 " Yes, after all the thing may go," murmured Arthur. 
 
 " It is a dead certainty, my dear, but we must act at 
 once; in order to succeed there should be no delay." 
 
 " And, as you wish to save your house, you must be 
 quick; but the execution has been terribly talked of, and 
 I doubt whether your hidalgo will help you out of the 
 mess. How much do you owe, without any nonsense ? " 
 
 "About thirty thousand francs; but I don't expect to 
 get that out of him. He might buy the house and fur- 
 niture to give this girl. I made the proposition to him, 
 but he did not bite at once." 
 
 " When I shall have once got a footing in his house, 
 things will change." 
 
 " He will see you to-morrow morning at eleven." 
 
 " I will go; but now let us get home, to write the note 
 for Mile. Cambremer. You shall write from my dicta- 
 tion, and I will correct the faults of spelling. Without 
 my help you would do all sorts of foolish things; but I 
 know the English style of letter-writing, and I'll wager 
 what you like that the little girl will be taken in." 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour afterwards these reptiles, as
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 103 
 
 Cornelian so truly called them, had completed their 
 work; and nothing but a miracle could save the unfortu- 
 nate Cecile. 
 
 CHAPTEB XIV. 
 
 A FORCED SAIJt 
 
 AT the very hour when Arthur and his vile companion 
 were plotting against Cecile, George Cransac was making 
 his way towards Montmartre. 
 
 He had passed a terrible night, and was now making 
 his way thither in spite of his better self. He had returned 
 to his rooms at the Grand Hotel as the day was breaking, 
 with misery aud despair tugging at his heart-strings, 
 and, after vain efforts to sleep, had at last fallen into a 
 troubled slumber, the slumber of a ruined gamester, 
 whose rest is troubled by dreams of his disaster. This 
 was not the first time in his life that he had lost all his 
 ready money at play; but he had up to this time easily 
 consoled himself. He then had an established business, 
 and the brokerages which he received were always suffi- 
 cient to cover his losses; and all he had to do was to live 
 more cheaply for the coming month. Accustomed to live 
 from day to day, he occupied himself very little with the 
 future. But now his position was no longer the same, 
 for the embarrassment into which his own folly had 
 placed him, had made a complete alteration in his designs. 
 He was compelled to make use of the money which he 
 had sworn never to touch, in order to extricate himself 
 from his difficulties, and to keep up the farce of being a 
 wealthy man in spite of his wishes to the contrary. 
 
 What would Valbrtc say if his friend George went and 
 told him that his anonymous benefactor had changed his 
 mind, and that the sum to his credit in the London bank 
 was no longer available ? He would have certainly 
 believed, and with justice, that the pretended legacy had 
 never existed, and would have broken off all relations 
 with a man whom he had so warmly defended on his dis- 
 charge from Mazas, but who had now been detected in an 
 infamous falsehood; and George, deprived of the only 
 backer he had, would have had nothing more to look
 
 104. THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 forward to. He bad counted on journalism as a means of 
 existence, but what paper would accept his services, if 
 his only friend refused to speak for him? He might 
 think himself lucky if the story of his losses at cards, 
 which might be mentioned in several quarters, did not 
 arouse the suspicions of the police, who might still be 
 keeping an eye on him. 
 
 The lot had been cast, and George must fulfill his 
 destiny to the bitter end. He had also lied to Cecile Cam- 
 bremer, in telling her that he was not rich; but she would, 
 doubtless, pardon him for having deceived her, when he 
 had proved to her that he loved her as she wished to be 
 loved. She had consented to the trial, which he had 
 himself proposed, and it was to commence that day. 
 There was no longer any time to hesitate, for he had 
 promised to settle his debt within twenty -four hours, and 
 he had resolved not to wait until night to draw again on 
 the convict's hoard. The house in the Hue Gabrielle 
 was a lonely spot even in the daytime, and he hoped to 
 run less risk in opening the hiding-place in the daytime, 
 than by the light of a lantern, which might betray his 
 presence. He had been in the deserted house before at 
 two in the morning, and had found no one there, and 
 he hoped that he would have the same good fortune 
 this time; and that after having filled his pockets 
 he might change the gold into notes, and pay the 
 five thousand francs which were still due to the 
 advertisement agent. The coldness of the atmosphere 
 had increased since the previous night, and the streets in 
 the neighborhood of the Rue Gabrielle were less fre- 
 quented than ever, but when he arrived before the gate 
 of the uncultivated garden, he was disagreeably surprised 
 at seeing on the slope two gentlemen in earnest conver- 
 sation, whilst they were at the same time watching a man 
 who was measuring the ground with a surveyor's chain. 
 Their backs were turned to Cransac, who was therefore able 
 to remain, unseen, glued to the spot with surprise and hor- 
 ror at the sight of what was going on. There was no 
 mistaking what they were about. When a property is 
 being measured, something is going to be done with it; 
 no doubt the little estate would be sold, and then the 
 house would certainly be pulled down, for it was in too 
 dilapidated a state to be worth repairing, and then, as
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 105 
 
 soon as the sale had been concluded, the purchaser would 
 certainly surround it by a strong hoarding, which would 
 shut out all trespassers, himself included. Then farewell 
 to the treasure ! The masons who pulled down the walls 
 would assuredly come across it, and meantime it 
 would be impossible for George to get at it, unless indeed 
 he lost not a moment in commencing operations. He could 
 not get into the house at once, as it was now occupied, 
 but he hoped that work would not begin on that very day, 
 nor even on the next one, and that he would have three 
 or four nights in which to remove his gold before the 
 pickaxes of the workmen demolished the famous mantel- 
 piece. He had a good mind to make some enquiries now 
 as to the ultimate destination of the old building from the 
 present visitors, one of whom might be the proprietor; 
 but it would be necessary to find some pretext for accost- 
 ing them, and the most simple was to present himself as a 
 purchaser in search of a suitable plot of ground. Only 
 he did not think it advisable to speak to them across the 
 wall, and judged that it would be better to wait until 
 they came out after finishing what they were about. 
 They seemed in no hurry, neither did the man with the 
 chain, and they continued talking in a sufficiently loud 
 tone for Cransac to hear what they said: 
 
 "My dear fellow," said one, "I much fear that you 
 will do no good; we may repair and patch up as much as 
 we can, but the place will be deuced hard to sell." 
 
 " I know that," replied the other; " it would not suit a 
 business man, nor a tradesman, but it would be just the 
 thing for some rich, eccentric fellow with lots of money, 
 who wished to have the finest view of Paris from his 
 window; and, I think, I have found my man I " 
 
 " Has he seen the place ? " 
 
 " Not yet; I want to make it look a little tidy before I 
 show it to him." 
 
 " And will this mug that you have raked up build, do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " Of course he will; and you, friend Thomas, shall be 
 his architect, and build him a charming little villa in the 
 style of Louis XIII., which shall cost you one hundred 
 and fifty thousand francs, and you shall give him an esti- 
 mate for two hundred thousand, and pocket the difference."
 
 106 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " That will suit me down to the ground; and what will 
 you make out of it, old man ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I shall finger a good commission on the sale of 
 the property. The cloth manufacturer who owns it got 
 it from a bankrupt debtor, and has never had a sou from 
 it since it came into his hands, and he would willingly 
 sell it for ten thousand; so that, if I can get forty or fifty 
 for it, he will share the surplus with me." 
 
 " Good business that ! " exclaimed the architect. ' ' I 
 am not surprised at your being in a hurry to conclude 
 the sale." 
 
 " I have full power to put the grounds in order; and 
 after the sale, I shall get all my out-of-pocket expenses. 
 The first thing to be done is to pull down the house, 
 which is fast falling to ruin, and that won't cost much. 
 It looks as if you could send it to the ground with a 
 breath." 
 
 Cransac was horrified. This speculator was, without 
 any further delay, going to pull down this mass of red 
 brickwork, which rose up from the garden, and he had 
 only one night in which to empty the hiding-place. He 
 was about to leave the spot for a time, when he heard a 
 name that was familiar to him: 
 
 " You may rely on me, my dear Lourdier," said the 
 man who had been addressed as the architect. 
 
 Lourdier was the advertising contractor who had been 
 one of the guests at Brebant's, and to whom George 
 Cransac owed five thousand francs. Chance had brought 
 him face to face with his creditor at the very moment 
 when he was in search of the money to pay him with. 
 And -this very money was concealed in the house, and 
 inaccessible to him for the moment. From this point of 
 view, the meeting was a disagreeable one, but in com- 
 pensation, George had learned the destined fate of the 
 ruined house, which might be of service to him. 
 
 At this moment the two men turned, and Lourdier at 
 once recognized George. " "Well, this is a strange chance, 
 our meeting here !" said the advertisement agent, as much 
 surprised as George was. 
 
 " I came here for a walk," stammered George. " After 
 sitting up all night, I wanted a walk and some fresh air." 
 
 " The most natural thing in the world, and you have 
 just come across me at the right moment.''
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 107 
 
 " Not quite ; for after my walk I intended to go to my 
 banker, draw the money I owe you, and call at your 
 house." 
 
 " Don't speak of that, my dear fellow; we shall always 
 be coming across each other, and you can pay me when 
 you like. But this is an excellent opportunity for finish- 
 ing the business that I spoke of to you yesterday at din- 
 ner." 
 
 " What business ?" asked George, who naturally did 
 not wish Lourdier to know that he had overheard the con- 
 versation between him and the architect, as in it they had 
 spoken of him as a dupe, and exposed their hands. 
 
 " What," returned Lourdier, " have you already forgot- 
 ten the bit of land of which I spoke to you ? Well, this 
 is it !" 
 
 " What ? this place, all covered with brambles ? " 
 
 "It will be all cleared away in two days, and the build- 
 ing you see there will have disappeared next week. But 
 come in; we can talk better then." 
 
 Cransac pushed open the gate, and then, pointing 
 towards Paris, he remarked: "The first look leaves much 
 to be desired, but the view is grand. On a clear day one 
 ought to be able to see the heights of Chatillon." 
 
 " And the Hills of Meudon, too a perfect panorama, 
 my dear fellow; and for all that you have to pay a mere 
 nothing ! " 
 
 " Yes, the land can't be worth more than twenty or five 
 and twenty thousand francs," said George, who, now that 
 he knew what arrangements Lourdier contemplated mak- 
 ing, was able to act adroitly. " But then I should have 
 to build. 
 
 " For a hundred thousand francs my friend Thomas, to 
 whom I beg to introduce you, will build you a little house 
 in which you can live like a prince, and that will be much 
 better than succeeding Juliet Taupier in her little box of 
 a house in the Rue Jouffroy." 
 
 ' M. Thomas is an architect, I presume," said George, 
 who wished to continue to play the part of having heard 
 nothing of the preceding conversation. 
 
 " Yes, he is a member of the Academy of Fine Arts. If 
 the land suits you, I advise you to lose no time in secur- 
 ing it, for a purchaser may make his appearance any day.
 
 108 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 They are asking forty-five thousand for it, but I think 
 that I could get it for less for you." 
 
 George paused before replying, for an idea had flashed 
 across his brain. The simplest means of securing the 
 property would be to become the purchaser. When this 
 was once completed, no mason could strike a blow with 
 his pickaxe without his permission, and if he made up 
 his mind to demolish the existing building in order to 
 erect another, it would not be until he had transferred 
 his gold to some safer hiding-place. There would be no 
 difficulty about the payment, for in the transfer of real 
 estate it was not a matter of cash down, and all that he 
 had need of was twenty-four hours in which to make a 
 nocturnal visit to the treasure, and to take away sufficient 
 to pay a sum on account, or, if necessary, the full amount. 
 Later on, when he had settled matters, and was master 
 of the place, he could act without hindrance, and could 
 wall up the grounds against nocturnal intruders. Just 
 now what he had to find out was with whom to treat, and 
 what the conditions w r ould be, for Lourdier was evidently 
 only an intermediary, and the conversation that he had 
 heard between the two men had not given him any real 
 idea of the right value of the property. 
 
 " Forty -five thousand francs," said he, after a pause, 
 " is much too dear." 
 
 " Let us say forty thousand," said Lourdier eagerly . 
 
 " We are a long way yet from the price that I should 
 pay. I might, perhaps, go as far as thirty thousand, 
 but" 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " I have not this sum at my immediate disposal." 
 
 " Is that all that makes you hesitate ? As long as the 
 vendor gets a third upon the day on which you sign the 
 deed, he will give you every facility for the payment of 
 the balance. You shall fix the terms of payment your- 
 self. He is a rich man, and consequently in no hurry to 
 realize, and is only anxious to get rid of a property 
 that has brought him nothing since it came into his 
 hands." 
 
 " Then why the deuce did he buy it? " 
 
 " He did not buy it. It came to him as the result of a 
 liquidation, by which he lost a great deal of money.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 109 
 
 There was a Parisian banker in it, who was a sleeping 
 partner with him, and who failed one day." 
 
 " And what did the banker do with it ? " 
 
 " On my word, I don't know. Perhaps it served him 
 for a park and country house. He most likely spent his 
 Sundays there. At any rate he was not a Rothschild, and 
 he blew out his brains when he found that he was 
 ruined." 
 
 " What was his name ? " 
 
 " I never heard, or if I did I have forgotten it. It is 
 such an old story. The actual owner may be able to tell 
 you something about him if you are anxious to hear 
 about him, but I suppose that you are not much interested 
 in the matter ? " 
 
 " Oh, no; not a bit," answered George, who had been 
 thmking of the father of Cecile Cambremer, who had 
 killed himself when he discovered that he was ruined. 
 The thought that she might have come to the house in which 
 she formerly lived to commit suicide had lingered for an 
 instant in George's imagination, but he had dismissed it 
 at once as preposterous and absurd. 
 
 ' Well, have you made up your mind ? " asked Lourdier. 
 " I press you, because I think that the purchase would be 
 an advantageous one for you, and also because I am 
 anxious to know what I have to ( do. I must have the 
 workpeople here to-morrow to pull that old ruin down, 
 and, to cut paths through all this jungle, and if you don't 
 intend to buy I shall set them to work to-night. If, 
 on the other hand, you elect to buy, I shall not send 
 either masons or other workpeople, unless indeed you 
 wish it. 
 
 " No," returned Cransac, quickly. " If I purchase I 
 shall not begin to build until next summer, so there will 
 be time enough to clear away everything at the end of 
 the winter." 
 
 " As you like, my dear fellow. But just answer me 
 one question : Are you going to buy ? Yes or no ? You 
 just now spoke about thirty thousand. Put another five 
 to it, and the place is yours." 
 
 " No, thirty thousand ; ten paid down, and the balance 
 in two instalments at six and twelve months." 
 
 " Ah, I see you understand business. I expect that 
 you have doiie plenty in your time."
 
 110 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " Only for others; never for myself." 
 
 "Yes, I heard you were with a stockbroker; but now 
 you belong to the paper for which I work, though in a 
 different line of business, but when we are in the same 
 boat we must all pull together. And so, my dear fellow, 
 I accept your offer. I will let you have the property for 
 thirty thousand francs, though I could, I am sure, have 
 sold it for forty thousand to another party. I have had 
 an offer of thirty-five thousand, which I refused. And 
 now is it settled ? If so, give me your hand." 
 
 " It is settled," answered George, after a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 " You know that according to the Code a promise to 
 purchase holds good. I have full powers from the owner. 
 Will you get over the thing at once, arid come with me 
 to the vendor's notary ? We will instruct him to prepare 
 the deed of sale, and you will sign it when shall we 
 say?" 
 
 " The day after to-morrow," replied George, who wished 
 to have two clear nights in which to place himself in 
 funds, for, though the bank from which he intended to 
 draw them was close at hand, in contradistinction to the 
 usual run of banks it did not open until after sunset. 
 
 "Very well, then, the day after to-morrow; and you 
 will have to pay the costs in addition, and expenses of 
 registration." 
 
 " Which will amount to how much, do you think ? " 
 
 " M. Guerin, the notary, will tell you the exact amount. 
 He lives close here, in the Place Dancourt, by the Mont- 
 martre Theatre. Shall we go there now ? " 
 
 " Is it absolutely necessary that I should go with you 
 now ? " 
 
 " It would be better; but I rely upon your word, given 
 in the presence of my friend Thomas, and can therefore 
 dispense with your attendance to-day. The day after to- 
 morrow I shall expect you at M. Guerin'^ office between- 
 two and three o'clock in the afternoon. I don't remem- 
 ber the number, but you will see his name on a plate on 
 the door. Bring fifteen thousand francs with you, and 
 that will leave an ample margin for the costs." 
 
 " All right; and now if you will excuse me, I will leave 
 you. I am expected at the other end of Paris, and I see 
 that you have not yet completed your measurements."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. Ill 
 
 " I shall not be long over them; I only want to know 
 the extent of frontage on the Rue Gabrielle, and my man 
 won't be more than ten minutes over that." 
 
 " Shall I see you presently at the office of the paper ? " 
 
 " Most probably." 
 
 " Until then, my dear sir, good-bye." 
 
 Cransac shook hands with Lourdier, although he was 
 a person that he had not much liking for; then bowing 
 coldly to the architect, who was not best pleased at find- 
 ing all business transactions put off until the spring, 
 took his leave, for he felt the necessity of being alone, 
 to reflect at his leisure on the new course that affairs had 
 taken. 
 
 In agreeing to purchase he had, as the saying is, burnt 
 his boats, and it was impossible for him now to draw back 
 from the evil course into which his losses at play had 
 impelled him. He wanted twenty thousand francs within 
 the next twenty-four hours, merely to settle his card 
 debts, and to pay the deposit on the purchase, and so he 
 would have to take away thirty thousand francs at his 
 next nightly visit, so as not to leave himself penniless after 
 paying his debts. He had resolved not to content him- 
 self with this only. He wanted to empty the hiding-place 
 of its last coin, so as to see how much he had really 
 inherited from his neighbor of the exercise-yard of Mazas. 
 When he knew this he could arrange his mode of life 
 according to his fortune, and without the slightest feel- 
 ings of compunction he hoped that it might be very 
 large. It is only the first step that is difficult, and this 
 step had been taken ten days back. Cransac rather 
 liked the idea of building on the site of the ruined house 
 a comfortable villa, in which he hoped to persuade Cecile 
 to live with him, for he had already begun to feel the 
 extreme inconvenience of having two places of abode: 
 one in the Rue Frochot, and the other the Grand Hotel. 
 
 Neither of these were suitable for what he wanted just 
 now, a place of safe deposit for a very large sum of money, 
 and until he should have found a more convenient lodg- 
 ing he saw that he should be compelled to carry large 
 sums of money about his person. He knew that it was 
 far from safe or prudent to go about the streets with his 
 pocket filled with gold or notes, and this to a certain 
 extent spoiled the pleasure he had felt in knowing that
 
 112 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 the house in which his treasure was buried was not to be 
 demolished. 
 
 George had not spoken falsely when he said that he was 
 expected at the other end of Paris, for he had promised 
 to go and see Cecile Cambremer at Belleville in the after- 
 noon, and the day was getting on. He therefore made 
 all haste to the Boulevard de Clichy, where he could get 
 a cab to take him to the Avenue Laumiere; but when he 
 found himself but a few paces from the Rue Frochot, he 
 could not resist the temptation of calling at the porter's 
 lodge, to see if there was a letter for him, and so he made 
 his way thither, looking wearily round the corners, for fear 
 of encountering the terrible Cornelian, or her hideous 
 assistant, Goliath. 
 
 It was fortunate for him that he had thought of going 
 home first, for the porter handed him a letter which the 
 postman had just left, and on the envelope of which he 
 recognized Cecile's handwriting, although he had only 
 seen it once before. Lovers have always good memories. 
 On his return from London, George had not thought it 
 necessary to tell her that he was stopping at the Grand 
 Hotel, and therefore she could only write to him at the 
 address she knew, and this was one of the reasons that had 
 decided him to call at his own rooms before going on to 
 Belleville. The porter took the opportunity of handing to 
 George the two receipts which he had asked for the day 
 before, but as he had not sufficient money about him to 
 settle, he had to ask that they might stand over until the 
 next day. After making thia arrangement, he went away 
 to enjoy the letter from his love in private. It was a short 
 one, and the contents surprised him a little. 
 
 " My friend," wrote the flowermaker, " I have the most 
 earnest wish to see you, but I want to spare you a useless 
 journey. To-day I am obliged to go out, and make 
 ai-rangements with an artificial flower merchant, who 
 wishes to entrust me with an important order. His place 
 of business is a long way from where I live, and I do not 
 know at what time I shall get back. I am not sure either 
 of seeing you to-morrow, for orders are coming in from 
 all sides, but I shall be certainly free at six o'clock, and I 
 will keep my evening for you. I will dine with you, if 
 you like, and afterwards we can go to the theatre never 
 mind to which one ; as I have not seen any of the pieces
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 113 
 
 which are being played just now. You see I treat you 
 like an old friend, and yet we have known each other but 
 a short time, but a feeling of affinity came over me at 
 once, and I flatter myself that this feeling is reciprocal. 
 I shall, therefore, come for you to the Rue Frochot, at 
 half-past six to-morrow. If I put you out in any way, I beg 
 that you will let me know ; a line by post will reach me 
 in time. If I receive no reply I shall come." 
 
 The letter was simply signed " Cecile," and there was 
 of course a postscript: "I forgot to tell you that I have 
 seen the good woman you sent to me and see how well 
 chance sometimes serves us, for I found that she knew 
 me when I was a child. I will tell you all about it when 
 I see you. I have got her some work, and I hope that I 
 shall not part with her again." 
 
 George read and re-read this letter, which put off the 
 first appointment, several times; and he saw that Cecile 
 was sincere in wishing to adjourn their meeting until 
 the next day. The hope of passing a long evening with 
 her compensated him for the change in the arrange- 
 ments, and in his heart he was not sorry to defer the 
 pleasure for twenty-four hours, for his mind would be 
 more at ease after the expedition which he was about to 
 undertake that night was over, as then all his plans 
 would be arranged and his projects settled, and he 
 could then open his heart to Cecile, make arrangements 
 for their future life, and urge upon her that a more 
 tender tie ought to unite them. He had no need to 
 write to her, as by his silence he accepted the meeting 
 for the next day.
 
 114: TEE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 "HALVES." 
 
 NOTHING now remained for Cransac but to make 
 arrangements for his second nocturnal visit to the ruined 
 house in the Rue Gabrielle. He was in haste to get it 
 over, and he would not have waited until nightfall had 
 he not feared to find the two men he had met before 
 still there; for, in spite of all that Lourdier had said, the 
 measuring might not be over until dusk, and Cransac 
 did not at all want to see him that day. What he had to 
 do was to employ his time in the best manner that he 
 could before starting on his expedition, and he began by 
 returning to the Grand Hotel, to make his preparations 
 accordingly, as he wished to be better prepared than he 
 had been on the preceding visit. He had told Valbrec 
 that he would come down to the offices of the newspaper 
 to see him, but this was an appointment that he could 
 easily put off until the next day. Privacy is best for 
 those who have a hazardous undertaking in hand, and 
 Cransac preferred to isolate himself, to spending his 
 time in idle conversation. The great point was to make 
 his expedition as successful as possible, and, taught by 
 his former experience he thought of taking with him a 
 bag in which he could at one visit take away a large sum 
 of money. He had a leather one, very large and deep, 
 furnished with a leather strap, to sling over the shoulder, 
 which he had brought from England with him. He 
 slung this on under his great coat, and then thought how 
 he could best protect himself from other dangers which 
 might threaten him. On his last expedition he had only 
 met a helpless woman, but he might at any moment find 
 himself face to face with some ill-disposed man, and he 
 desired to be in a condition to defend himself in case of 
 attack. He therefore took with him a heavily-weighted 
 stick, and a six-chambered revolver, which he carefully 
 loaded. Nor did he forget a good provision of matches, and 
 on leaving the hotel, he purchased a lantern small enough 
 to go into his pocket These preparations occupied him 
 until it wt the hour for dinner, which he partook of in
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 115 
 
 a third-class restaurant, where he was sure of not meet- 
 ing anyone that knew him. He then sought an unfre- 
 quented cafe, where he sat for a long time with a news- 
 paper before him, as a man does whose mind is preoc- 
 cupied with something else than politics or literature, 
 until midnight sounded from an adjacent belfry. 
 
 The hour had come, and taking a cab, he drove to the 
 Place Saint Pierre. He had chosen this route as he knew 
 that the inhabitants of the Butte Montmartre avoided it 
 after sunset; but it suited Cransac to arrive at his desti- 
 nation by devious ways, and he wished to enter the garden 
 by the flight of steps which he had descended with Cecile, 
 and make his entry by the side gate which she had pointed 
 out to him. By taking this route he would avoid the 
 thick vegetation, and reach the front door with more 
 celerity. As the night was pretty clear, he was the better 
 able to take a view of the surroundings ; he perceived that 
 the sloping garden had a terrace at the end of it, upon 
 which the house stood; but the terrace, like everything 
 else, was in ruins, and there were large holes in it where 
 the stones had fallen away, which would serve as a refuge 
 for wanderers in search of a shelter. Cransac did not 
 lose any time in exploring these lurking places, for he 
 rightly judged that those poor wretches who had no home 
 would prefer a shelter in the house, dilapidated as it was, 
 to holes where they would be exposed to the night blasts. 
 
 At length he arrived at the house, which he determined 
 to explore from top to bottom before he went to work. 
 He began naturally by the chamber on the ground floor, 
 which he found in the same state as he had left it. He 
 made sure of this by lighting his lantern, and this seemed 
 a sign of good omen for the ultimate success of his expe- 
 dition. Then he went up stairs, and inspected each story 
 successively, and found that they had all been undisturbed 
 since his last visit, There was the overturned brazier, 
 and the scattered lumps of charcoal lying on the floor 
 where Cecile Cambremer had endeavored to suffocate her- 
 self, but everything seemed to show that no human being 
 had been there since his last visit on that momentous 
 night. He came back from his inspection completely 
 reassured, and did not lose a moment in getting to work, 
 for he knew well that the quicker he was, the less risk he 
 should run of being surprised. He therefore placed his
 
 116 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 hand on the pin, which yielded to his first effort, because 
 it was no longer encrusted with rust. The plate opened, 
 and he again saw the rolls of gold pieces wrapped up in 
 green paper, but he no longer smelt the sickening odor 
 which had poured out the first time that he opened it. The 
 mephitic vapor which had collected inside had been dis- 
 pelled by the fresh air during the time that the door of 
 the hiding-place had remained open, and it was easy to 
 believe that if a dead body had at any time been thrown 
 down there, it must by now be reduced to a mere skele- 
 ton. But Cransac thought of nothing but his treasure, 
 and cared little whether a crime had been committed 
 or not at some previous time in the deserted house. 
 He picked up the precious parcel by handfuls without 
 counting them, and crammed them into his bag, and 
 when that was full he filled his pockets. He would have 
 liked to have carried all the treasure away, but beneath 
 the first layer he saw that there were others, and he would 
 have been borne to the ground by the weight of gold. 
 His load was already as heavy as he could bear. He was 
 about to close the plate when, in feeling the mass of par- 
 cels for the last time, his fingers encountered a soft flat 
 object which he had some difficulty in disengaging from 
 the weight that pressed on it. It was an immense pocket- 
 book, such as ministers, barristers and bank cashiers 
 carry. It was made of black morocco leather, but the 
 copper lock was off, the key had disappeared, and the 
 leather was battered and torn; on the outside could still 
 be read the letters B. and C., probable the initials of the 
 capitalist to whom it formerly belonged. Cransac opened 
 it, and found that it was crammed with banknotes. The 
 damp had stuck some of them one against the other, and 
 he dared not finger them lest he should tear them to 
 pieces. This unexpected find was most fortunate for him, 
 for it almost did away with the necessity of making 
 another perilous trip, at least for some time. He had 
 now many hundred thousand of francs, which in their 
 present shape weighed less than ten thousand in 
 gold, and which would cause him no trouble to take 
 back to the Grand Hotel, even if he had to walk 
 there. All that he had to do was to take care not to lose 
 them on the way, which he would certainly have done 
 had he placed the dilapidated pocket-book under hi
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 117 
 
 arm. As the best thing to be done he placed it in his 
 breast between his waistcoat and his shirt, and buttoned 
 it up carefully. After having taken this precaution he 
 felt half inclined to throw the rolls of coin back into the 
 hole, but he thought that he was strong enough to carry 
 the lot, and so he closed the hiding-place, which was still 
 half full. He had had to kneel down to extract his treas- 
 ure, and when he strove to rise to his feet, he had great 
 difficulty in doing so. Cransac was young and vigorous, 
 but he was loaded like a mule, and his muscular shoulders 
 trembled beneath his burden. He extinguished his lan- 
 tern, and put it into the pocket with his revolver, grasped 
 his loaded stick firmly in his right hand, and turned 
 towards the door. He now found himself opposite the 
 window from which all the glass had been broken away. 
 Inside the room the darkness was profound, but outside 
 it was a little lighter, and on glancing in that direction 
 Cransac fancied that he saw a round object showing 
 against the light, at the height where the lower panes of 
 glass had been, which had something of the appearance 
 of a human head. At first-he thought that his eyes must 
 have deceived him, but the instant that he made a step for- 
 ward, the object disappeared, and he heard a slight 
 sound such as a man's feet, would make on dropping from 
 a certain height. Someone had evidently been hanging 
 on to the window sash, and had let go all of a sudden. 
 This spy might enter at any moment and attack George, 
 who accordingly stood on his defence, with his left hand 
 on his revolver, his loaded stick raised for a blow in his 
 right, and his face turned toward the door. 
 
 But no one showed themselves. 
 
 He listened, but there was not a sound in the garden. 
 
 Had the man crept away with stealthy tread, or was 
 he lying in wait outside the door ? 
 
 To know this it was necessary to search for him. One 
 thing was clear: the secret of the hiding-place had been 
 discovered. But by whom ? Probably by some night 
 wanderer, who would have no scruples in coming back 
 and emptying it, and who, perhaps, was now meditating 
 Cransac's murder, in order to rob him of his booty. 
 Whichever might be the case, Cransac could not permit 
 himself to be besieged there ; the Kmger he waited the 
 more risk he ran, for the man might summon others to
 
 118 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 help him, and then the odds would not be in his favor, 
 whilst, armed as he was, he could easily hold his own 
 against a solitary robber. 
 
 He resolved to leave the place at once. He pulled the 
 door to him, which opened inwards, and going out on to 
 the step looked round him. He could see no one, and in 
 the moonlight a man could have been seen twenty paces 
 off. The road to the side steps was therefore free, though 
 there was a chance of the man having hidden himself in 
 the brambles, but all George had to do was not to go too 
 close to them. He therefore walked slowly in the direc- 
 tion of the gate, weighed down by the weight of his 
 load. He had strong arms, good legs, and clear sight; 
 the gate by which he had come in was not far off, and 
 he hoped to reach it without any accident, and he 
 believed that he had not much to fear when he was once 
 outside the garden. Night is very lonely in that deserted 
 quarter, but still there were people about, and when the 
 cry of " murder " or " fire " is raised, the sleepers awake 
 from their slumbers, and the guardians of the peace 
 interfere at least sometimes. On the outer boulevards, 
 the cafes remain open all the year round until two in the 
 morning; and during the fair at Montmartre everyone is 
 about the mountebanks perform, the drums are beaten, 
 the trumpets peal, the wooden horses go round to the 
 sound of music, and in the midst of all this turmoil and 
 crowd even pickpockets find it difficult to exercise their 
 profession. All, then, that George had to do was to get 
 that far, so as to be in safety from any attack, and then 
 to take a cab to the Grand Hotel. At two paces from 
 the gate, when he thought that the worst was over, 
 Cransac saw a shadowy form rise before him, which 
 seemed to have sprung out of the wall. 
 
 " Halves ! " cried a guttural voice, and at the same 
 instant he felt a heavy blow on his chest. He stepped 
 backwards, but at the moment when his adversary was 
 about to repeat the blow, he struck him heavily over the 
 head with his loaded stick. The man fell like a log, and 
 Cransac, stepping back, prepared to defend himself 
 against any new opponent, or in case the fallen man 
 should attempt to r^new the attack; but he showed no 
 sign of life, and lay perfectly still, witla his arms extended. 
 Cransac, who had lost neither his equilibrium or his cool-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 119 
 
 ness, pushed him with his foot, so as to be certain that 
 he was not in a condition to renew the attack, and find- 
 ing that he did not stir, was about to proceed on his 
 way, when the idea struck him that he might as well 
 look what sort of a man his assailant was. " Halves ! " 
 was what the wretch had cried out as he rushed upon 
 him. He was therefore aware that Cransac had money 
 about him. Did he know this because he had watched 
 him helping himself to the treasure, or because he had 
 been previously made acquainted with its existence ? 
 Had the prisoner of Mazas, after George's discharge 
 taken anyone else into his confidence ? Did one of his 
 former accomplices know the secret of the hiding-place, 
 and had he come there to empty it and found Cransac 
 at work? Any of these conjectures were possible. 
 "Without leaving go of his revolver, Cransac turned the 
 man over on to his back without his exhibiting any 
 signs of life. The blow of the loaded stick appeared 
 to have fractured his skull, and it seemed doubtful if 
 he would get over it, though he still breathed. He 
 was dressed in a torn blouse, and a tattered pair of 
 trousers, with heavy shoes, and one of those rough 
 caps so much affected by the roughs of the lowest 
 class. As far as Cransac could make out in the half- 
 obscurity that reigned, his features did not belie his 
 dress, and he looked like one of those miserable scoun- 
 drels who live on the precarious earnings of the unfortunate 
 women who ply their trade beyond the barriers. He was 
 a young man, not more than twenty-five years of age. 
 The blood from his wound had spread over his convulsed 
 features, and his eyes which were wide open, had no ex- 
 pression in them. It would have been useless to ques- 
 tion him, and if he was not already dead he was nearly 
 so. But the question that Cransac asked himself was, 
 should he let him lie there ? If he did so, the police 
 when they found his body would certainly cause an in- 
 quiry to be made. They might not find the murderer, 
 but in searching the house they might discover the hid- 
 ing-place. Cransac at first thought of dragging the 
 body to the public flight of steps close at hand, but he 
 could not bear the idea of lifting it. " After all," 
 thought he, " it matters very little whether the police 
 put their hands on the money," as he had no more need
 
 120 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 to return there to supply himself with gold, or whether 
 they would consider the murder as having been com- 
 mitted in a street row by a ruffian of a similar stamp; in 
 which case the inquiry would not be a long one. He 
 saw now that the fellow, after having quitted his post of 
 observation, had hidden himself in one of the hollows of 
 the wall of the terrace, to spring out on Cransac as soon 
 as he came within his reach. The cowardly scoundrel 
 still grasped in his hand a long pointed knife, with 
 which he had struck Cransac in the breast, and would 
 have infallibly killed him on the spot had not the point 
 of his formidable weapon encountered the pocket-book. 
 The banknotes, which formed a kind of breastplate, had 
 saved the life of the felon's heir. The steel had passed 
 through them, and just grazed the skin; one bundle less 
 and Cransac would have been a dead man. Never had a 
 few hundred thousand francs been placed more advan- 
 tageously, and the possessor of this fortune, however 
 doubtfully it might have been acquired, might now 
 believe that luck had come back to him once more. 
 
 He thought this more than once, as he descended the 
 steep, narrow street that led on to the boulevards. The 
 crowd had begun to disperse, and many of the booths 
 had put out their lights, but he caught a belated cab, 
 and drove straight to the Grand Hotel. As he passed 
 through the courtyard, where some persons still lingered, 
 he noticed that some turned and gazed after him with ill 
 concealed curiosity. They could not, however, have 
 guessed that he was loaded with gold and banknotes. 
 Perhaps they were surprised at his slow and steady 
 pace, or the way in which his overcoat, the pockets of 
 which were weighted with gold, hung stiffly down. 
 
 Laden as he was Cransac had some difficulty in climbing 
 upstairs to the third floor, where he had two rooms, and 
 his first care was to relieve himself of all his burdens; 
 then, in default of a safe lockup, he threw everything 
 pell-mell into his wardrobe, and taking out the key, 
 drew the bolt of his room door. He did not even 
 attempt to count his wealth. After so many mental and 
 physical shocks, he was worn out with fatigue, and only 
 retained a confused remembrance of the events of the 
 day which had succeeded each other with such startling 
 rapidity. It all appeared like a dream to him. All at
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 121 
 
 once he saw blood on his hands, and everything came 
 back to him in a moment. "A murderer," murmured 
 he, " I, George Cransac, am a murderer. I killed that 
 man to preserve the secret of a fortune which is not 
 mine; a fortune which I inherited from a robber." He 
 gazed at himself in the glass, and it seemed to him that 
 the very expression of his face had changed, and to 
 avoid the reflection, he staggered back to his bed upon 
 which he cast himself. After a time his wearied brain 
 Bank to rest and he fell asleep, with the terrible words 
 " a murderer, a murderer 1 " still dropping from his 
 lips. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 THE LUKE OF THE FOWLER. 
 
 WHEN Cecile wrote to George that orders were coming 
 in, in shoals, she had only spoken the truth, for she had 
 gained a name in the business; not only for punctuality, 
 but also for superiority of execution. It was therefore 
 not very hard for her, in spite of her brief absence, to 
 push herself in the trade, and to pick up the connection 
 which she had let slip. One of the business houses with 
 which she had been formerly connected had written to 
 her to supply it with an assortment of artificial roses, and 
 on her return home Cecile had found a letter waiting for 
 her from a Mrs. Georgina Acton, who begged her to 
 call at her house in the Avenue de Boulogne at five o'clock 
 on the next day, to discuss an important order for artifi- 
 cial flowers for transmission to the United States. Cecile 
 had certainly never heard of Madam Acton, but she had 
 occasionally received an order from America, and she 
 never for a moment doubted that the order was genuine 
 Both hour and time were convenient to her, as she had 
 promised to come to the Rue Frochot at half -past six; 
 but in spite of that, she fancied that her interview with 
 the foreign lady would not detain her so long as to pre- 
 vent her arriving in time, by taking a cab after it was 
 over. The poor woman whom George had sent to her 
 address had called in the meantime, and by a curious 
 chance, in a place like Paris, where friends may live for
 
 122 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 years without ever meeting, she had discovered that they 
 were old acquaintances. The poor woman had formerly 
 been a friend of the nurse in M. Cambremer's service, and 
 Cecile, who possessed a wonderful memory for faces, 
 remembered her, though she had not seen her for mora 
 than fifteen years. This was quite sufficient to make 
 Cecile take the greatest interest in her, for she was on the 
 lookout for an elderly respectable woman to superintend 
 her workgirls when she was unable to be present herself, 
 and so she soon made an arrangement with her. Josephine 
 Sureau, who had been deserted by her husband and left 
 with three young children, was almost dying of hunger 
 when George Cransac had come to her assistance in the 
 office of the Government Pawnbroking Establishment, 
 and she felt herself only too happy to enter Cecile 's ser- 
 vice, who had not lost a moment in" endeavoring to 
 extricate her from her difficulties. In twenty-four hours 
 Cecile had found an asylum for her children: the two 
 eldest she had apprenticed, and the youngest was placed 
 in a public nursery, where it would be taken care of for 
 the day. Josephine was thoroughly grateful to Cecile, 
 but she unfortunately had two defects: she was very 
 talkative and excessively curious. When she talked to 
 her mistress about by-gone times, she tried to worm out 
 the story of her troubles, and how she, the daughter of 
 wealthy parents, had been reduced to gain her liveli- 
 hood by the manufacture of artificial flow r ers. Cecile 
 had taken care to tell her that her father had died 
 without leaving her anything, and had entreated her to 
 ask her nothing further regarding her past life; but she 
 had felt it necessary to speak to her regarding her 
 acquaintanceship with M. George Cransac, and to tell 
 her that the young man was her best friend. Upon 
 the day of her visit to Madam Acton she thought 
 it would be as well to take Josephine with her, to carry 
 her boxes of samples to exhibit to the American lady 
 and to let her see afterwards upon what footing she 
 was with the gentleman residing in the Rue Frochot. 
 Josephine was delighted at the idea of accompanying her 
 new mistress, and went off to get a cab, into which they 
 both got, with their sample boxes of flowers. Cecile had 
 taken extra pains with her dress, not only that Madam 
 Acton might not take her for a woman in a small way of
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 123 
 
 business, but also that George might feel proud of the 
 companion that he was taking to the theatre. She still 
 possessed a dress, one of the last relics of her days of 
 prosperity, and an excessively becoming mantle which 
 she had taken out of pawn. She knew how to dress her 
 hair, and her boots and gloves were simply perfection. 
 Upon this occasion she had used all her taste, and the 
 effect was really charming. Happiness invariably increases 
 the good looks of a woman, and joyous anticipations had 
 thrown a mantle over her naturally cold expression of 
 countenance. She still resembled an antique statue, but 
 the glow of life had now shed a glow through the marble. 
 
 It was a long drive in a cab, for almost the entire width 
 of Paris had to be crossed, but Cecile did not feel wearied 
 at the time consumed in it. The future was now all rose- 
 colored, and, contrary to her usual habits, she spoke freely 
 to her companion of her business matters, and her hopes 
 of extending them. She had an idea that a great deal 
 might come of this visit, which would doubtless open out 
 to Tier an extensive foreign connection, and she had great 
 hopes that this Madam Acton might be the head of a 
 large similar business in New York. The snare had been 
 cunningly set, and poor Cecile fell headlong into it. 
 
 Josephine Sureau threw a little cold water on her 
 enthusiasm, by remarking innocently: "It is a strange 
 part of the town for a lady in that line to be stopping in." 
 
 " It is the part that the Americans frequent the most," 
 returned Cecile. 
 
 " Yes, those who are well off, but a tradeswoman 
 
 " Over there very large fortunes are made in trade, and 
 I am not certain that Madam Acton wishes to buy on her 
 own account; she may only be a representative." 
 
 " Oh ! I see. I thought people in business stopped in 
 the streets off the main boulevards, near to the Palais 
 Royal, but I never thought that there were lodging-houses 
 in the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne." 
 
 " Generally they are all private houses, but, of course, 
 there may be furnished apartments; but we shall soon 
 find out all about it." 
 
 As she spoke the cab passed the Place de 1'Etoile, where 
 the evening before a vile plot had been hatched. 
 
 Cecile grew more and more silent as the time passed 
 on. She began to ask herself if she was not committing
 
 124. THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 an act of great imprudence in thus keeping an appoint- 
 ment which she had made with a woman entirely unknown 
 to her; but even now she had no fear of any serious 
 danger. Whom should she distrust: the man upon whom 
 she had so unwisely lavished her first affections, who, after 
 draining her of all her money, had so cruelly cast her off ? 
 Certainly not; for she felt that he would never again 
 attempt to re-possess himself of her love, after her eyes 
 had been so cruelly opened to his treachery. Nor could 
 she for a moment imagine that some wealthy voluptuary 
 had cast his eyes upon her, considering how rarely she 
 left her home, and that she lived in one of the poorest 
 quarters of Paris. The cab drew up at the corner of the 
 Rue Pergolese, in front of a carriage gateway which opened 
 upon a large garden. 
 
 " I think that the driver must have made a mistake," 
 murmured Cecile. 
 
 Josephine put her head out of the window and shouted 
 something to the coachman. 
 
 "This is the number you told me to stop at," re turned 
 he. 
 
 " But here we are at the door of a private house," said 
 Madam Sureau to her patroness. 
 
 " Perhaps Madam Acton is staying with some fellow- 
 country people of hers," said Cecile; but we will soon 
 find out. Get down, and ask for her. If the porter says 
 he knows nothing of her, come back and tell me and we 
 can go away." 
 
 Josephine hastened to obey her, and Cecile followed 
 her with her eyes. She saw her ring the bell and say a 
 few words to the porter, who at first seemed inclined to 
 shut the door in her face. Then he appeared to think 
 better of it, and began again to enter into conversation 
 with Cecile's messenger. 
 
 Mile. Cambremer remained seated in the cab, and 
 could see a conversation going on, although she could 
 not hear a word of what was said; but she could not help 
 feeling surprised at the time the conversation lasted. 
 Surely it would have been more natural for the man to 
 have replied, "No," or "Yes," as to whether Madam 
 Acton lived there or not; and yet he seemed to be ques- 
 tioning Josephine. At last the woman came back to the 
 cab-door, and the first words she said were :
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 125 
 
 " She is in." 
 
 Then, as Cecile was about to ask her the cause of all 
 this delay, she added: 
 
 " But she doesn't wan't to see everybody, for he began 
 by telling me that he did not know any such person. He 
 stared at me from head to foot, but at last he looked 
 up the street, then he caught sight of the trap, and says 
 he: 
 
 " ' Who are you, and whom do you come from ? What 
 do you want with Madam Acton ? ' 
 
 "It seemed as if he would never have done. I 
 answered plainly, 'I am Mile. Cambremer's servant, who 
 received a letter from Madam Acton, making an 
 appointment for five o'clock.' Upon which he growled 
 out: 
 
 " ' So your mistress must employ a messenger, must 
 she ? Well, let her come in, since she is here ; but we 
 don't wan't you here.' The cove ain't a bit civil; and so 
 I just turned sharp around and came here. The Yankee 
 woman must have lots of coin for her flunkeys to be so 
 cheeky; at any rate, however, she is ready to see you. 
 So just go in; I will wait for you in the cab; and if she 
 wants to see any patterns, you will have to send for them, 
 for they certainly won't let me come in." 
 
 Cecile hesitated for a moment, all these precautions 
 appeared rather suspicious. On the other hand, she had 
 no desire to lose an affair which might turn out highly 
 advantageous. 
 
 "Well," said she, "I will go in. Mind and wait for 
 me. I shall, perhaps be some time, for these foreigners 
 take a long while to decide. But if I am detained 
 longer than you think is reasonable, ring at the door, 
 and have me called down by the servant. I will come 
 even if the business is not settled, for I must be at 
 19, Rue Frochot, M. Cransac's lodgings, at half -past 
 six." 
 
 " That is the gentleman that gave me twenty francs 
 and sent me to you. I would go through fire and water 
 for him, and you are quite right not to keep him waiting 
 he is a right down good one, he is."
 
 126 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVH 
 
 i. PARISIAN SERAGLIO. 
 
 HEAPING these encomiums on George's bead, Josephine 
 opened the door for Cecile, who at once entered the 
 house. The man-servant, who had remained standing on- 
 the threshold, immediately allowed her to enter without 
 any questions, for the fellow at once saw that the expected 
 visitor had at length arrived. 
 
 " If you will have the goodness to follow me, made- 
 moiselle," said he, " I will take you to Madam Acton." 
 
 Cecile found herself in a large courtyard brilliantly 
 lighted with gas, and separated by railings from a gar- 
 den full of venerable trees. The house was on the left- 
 hand side, and all the windows were lighted up. 
 
 " Madame Acton," continued the servant, " occupies 
 the little detached dwelling at the end of the garden. 
 She is only here for a day or two, and did not wish to be 
 in the general's way." 
 
 " The general ? " repeated Cecile, in tones of astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle; this house belongs to General 
 Burdett, the relative and countryman of Madam Acton." 
 
 The man had learned his lesson well, and these last 
 words entirely cleared away Cecile's doubts. She had 
 only to pass through the garden, winch was as well 
 lighted as the courtyard, and some thirty paces in front 
 of her she saw an elegant little building covered with 
 ivy, like an English cottage. Cecile thought that this 
 little bower o-f verdure could not have been built for the 
 commission of dark deeds, and that Madam Acton, who 
 resided in it, must be a person of the highest respecta- 
 bility; she, therefore, had no further grounds for fear. 
 The servant knocked discreetly at the door, which was 
 at once opened, and an elderly woman appeared dressed 
 in black, with her grey hair gathei-ed up in a net. 
 
 " Here is the young lady for Madam Acton," said the 
 man. 
 
 " Very good," said the old woman, in a strong foreign
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 127 
 
 accent. " The lady can come up; Madam Acton is wait- 
 ing for her upstairs." 
 
 For a moment Cecile again hesitated, for she fancied 
 that there was something suspicious about the old 
 woman's appearance; but it was now too late to draw 
 back. She ascended a white marble staircase, and on 
 arriving at the landing on the first floor, she turned to 
 question the woman as to her next movements. 
 
 " You will find Madam Acton in the room in front; go 
 straight in." 
 
 And with these words she turned round and disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Cecile had half a mind to retrace her steps, but she was 
 ashamed of her nervousness, and went on. She first came 
 into an ante-room hung with Cordovan leather, a drawing- 
 room, all gilding from top to bottom, and a boudoir with 
 plush-silk hangings. These three rooms were only separated 
 from each other by curtains which hung across the door- 
 ways. All were lighted up with candles, and fires were burn- 
 ing in the hearths ; but there was no Madam Acton. Cecile, 
 who had now made up her mind to carry the matter 
 through, went on further, and came to a fourth room, very 
 strangely furnished. Here there were nothing but cir- 
 cular divans, luxurious couches, lounging-chairs, and 
 cushions all covered in black satin, with huge bear-skins 
 spread about over the Persian carpet. There were looking- 
 glasses everywhere, even on the ceilings. Upon the walls 
 were pictures representing nude female figures in various 
 attitudes; but still no Madam Acton. It cculd not cer- 
 tainly have been she who had arranged these rooms in 
 so singular a style; the couches, the hangings, and the 
 pictures so free in their execution, more suitable for the 
 boudoir of a fast woman than the rooms occupied by an 
 American lady, with all her national airs of prudery. 
 And yet it was not Madam Acton's fault if her fellow- 
 countryman who li ved in Paris had a weakness for eccen- 
 tric furniture or indelicate pictures. All this mattered 
 yery little to Cecile as long as she could find the lady, 
 who, up to the present moment, had remained invisible. 
 She pushed her researches on further, and came to a 
 bedroom, the appearance of which was hardly more respec- 
 table. The bed was placed in a recess draped with lace, 
 and surrounded with mirrors. All the toilet arrange-
 
 128 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 ments were of the most luxurious description, the ewers 
 and bowls on the washing-stand were of agate, and there 
 were various implements in ivory, silver, and old china, 
 scattered about. A respectable woman would have 
 blushed to have dressed in such a room, and for an instant 
 Cecile thought that she had fallen into a trap. She could 
 hear no sound, and see no one, and yet everything around 
 her looked as if some one was expected. 
 
 Who was it that was waited for ? Was it herself ? And 
 if so, was it for the mere purchase of artificial flowers ? 
 
 She was frightened, and her only thought was to escape. 
 But how was she to do so ? The woman whom she had 
 met on her entrance had doubtless closed the door of the 
 cottage, and even had it remained open, the main gate 
 was, perhaps, closed and guarded. Would the porter let 
 her pass through? She did not wish to remain for 
 another moment in this abode of abomination; the very 
 carpet seemed to burn her feet. She turned back sharply, 
 and was already in the room with the circular divans when 
 she fancied she heard some one come in. It was a soft, 
 steady step, but it came nearer and nearer, and did not 
 sound at all like the tread of a woman. Cecile was rooted 
 to the ground with terror; had she been able she would 
 have hidden herself like a child behind a chair, or under 
 a couch, but she was too late. All at once she saw the 
 figure of a man coming towards her, dressed in a brocaded 
 dressing gown; his bare neck emerged from a red silk 
 shirt. He wore a beard and moustache, and his eyes 
 glowed like coals of fire. 
 
 At the sight of this unexpected appearance, Cecile 
 drew back, but the nearness of the danger gave her cour- 
 age. 
 
 " I am waiting for Madam Acton, who sent for me," 
 said she. 
 
 Instead of making any reply, the man took a step 
 towards her; she hurriedly drew back, he advanced, and she 
 still retreated, until she was driven back to the wall, and 
 now she could recede no further, and was in the position 
 of a duelist driven backwards to the wall by a more power- 
 ful adversary.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 129 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 IN THE TIGER'S CAGE. 
 
 THE man was still there standing in front of her, and 
 devouring her with his eyes. The mirrors reflected his 
 form, and Cecile saw him on all sides of her. Then fright 
 overcame her. " What do you want with me ?" stammered 
 she, " I do not know you." 
 
 " Did you really think that you came to see an American 
 lady, who was to buy flowers of you ?" asked the man 
 with a sneer. 
 
 " Certainly, I did." 
 
 " What ! did you not know that you were coming to see 
 a gentlemen who is fond of pretty girls, and is always 
 generous to them ? " 
 
 And now Cecile understood him, and her blood froze 
 in her veins. 
 
 " You are very innocent, and yet I could wager that 
 you have had a lover before now ! Come, come, confess 
 that you knew well enough what was coming." 
 
 " I forbid you to insult me," said Cecile, drawing herself 
 up haughtily. 
 
 " No grand airs here, please. You are in my power, 
 my pretty one, so I advise you to be more humble. I 
 only wish to act for your good. Before seeing you, I had 
 not made up my mind; but now the case is different, and 
 I will risk everything to possess you !" 
 
 " I order you to let me leave this." 
 
 " You are right to speak like that; you look superb. 
 Your eyes are blazing with rage; were you more deeply 
 affected, you would be adorable. I should like to see you 
 weep." 
 
 "Wretch!" 
 
 " Go on abuse me I want your anger to melt away 
 in tears," returned the pretended compatriot of Madam 
 Acton. He enjoyed her agitation and despair intensely. 
 His face gleamed with ferocity and passion; he had all 
 the appearance of a satyr. 
 
 " I desire to leave this house," said she, firmly. 
 
 " To wish and to be able are two different things. My
 
 130 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 servants have orders not to let you out. Give up the 
 foolish idea of leaving," returned the dastardly Simancas, 
 seating himself astride of a chair, two paces from where 
 Cecile was standing. " And now, let me explain my 
 ideas to you. I don't care whether you love me or 
 not; indeed, I should, I think, prefer you to hate me. You 
 can't understand that, because you have always lived a mere 
 humdrum existence, and have no idea of the strange tastes 
 of a man steeped to the lips in luxury as I am. Well, 
 now listen. As long as my fancy for you lasts, you shall 
 wallow in gold, and when it is over, you can carry your- 
 self and your riches where you like. Whilst you are 
 with me, you shall do just as you like; no doubt you will 
 deceive me, but when that happens and be sure I shall 
 hear of it I shall not send you away, but I shall chastise 
 you, and that will be an additional pleasure." 
 
 " You may kill me, if you like/' returned Cecile, " but 
 in life I will never be yours." 
 
 " Kill you?" sneered Simancas; " I should be sorry to 
 do that. I would much sooner make you suffer. I want 
 you to learn the fate that awaits you. You shall be as 
 much my slave as if you were shut up in the harem of the 
 Sultan of Constantinople, with this difference, that you 
 may go for a drive in the Bois de Boulogne when you 
 like. You will say that we are not in Turkey, but in 
 Paris ; but a man with millions at his command, as I have, 
 is beyond the reach of the law. If you venture to tell 
 anyone that you were decoyed here, I shall deny it, and 
 no one will believe that you did not come here of your 
 own free will and accord. I could not even be prose- 
 cuted on account of your age, for I have learned that 
 you are twenty-two." 
 
 Terrified out of her life, Cecile asked herself how this 
 odious voluptuary had learned so much concerning her, 
 and never lor a moment conceived that Juliet had fur- 
 nished Simancas with them, having in her turn procured 
 them from the dastardly Arthur. 
 
 " But things will never go so far as that," continued 
 the marquis, " for we are going to make a bargain." 
 
 " I do not think so," answered the young girl in a firm 
 voice. 
 
 " But I am sure of it, and you will not leave here until 
 all is settled. I will set you up as the woman should be
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 131 
 
 that I honor with my countenance. You shall have a 
 house, horses and carriages; indeed, I desire that you 
 should do me credit, and as I told you before, I will not 
 be too exacting as regards your fidelity to me." 
 
 " And I tell you that I will never be yours whilst I 
 live. If you keep me here in spite of myself, there are 
 those who will come here to seek me. I did not come 
 here alone, and the person who is waiting for me at your 
 door, when she does not see me come out, will go and 
 tell some one, who will not leave me long in your power." 
 
 " I am glad you have told me that," replied Simancas, 
 coolly, " and I thank you for the information, which I 
 will act on at once." As he spoke, he rose from the 
 chair, and moved towards the bell. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " exclaimed Cecile, over- 
 whelmed with surprise. 
 
 " You shall see, or rather, hear." 
 
 In another moment, the old woman appeared: 
 
 " Send the footman to tell the woman who is waiting 
 for this lady at my door that her mistress will remain 
 here this evening, and does not require her to stay here 
 any longer ! " 
 
 The woman left without a word, silent as the mutes 
 who obey the orders of the Sultan. 
 
 Cecile now felt that all was indeed lost, for Josephine, 
 of course, could not guess what was going on in the inte- 
 rior of the house, and would obey what she conceived to 
 be her mistress' orders. 
 
 Would she go to the Rue Frochot to tell George that 
 Cecile would not keep her appointment ? 
 
 This was the only hope that remained to Cecile ; and 
 certainly had the execrable Simancas known that Cransac 
 was likely to be informed of what had happened, he 
 would have taken other steps, for as Cransac knew his 
 address, he was not likely to be deceived by the story of 
 the false Madam Acton. 
 
 " Well," said Simancas, rubbing his hands, " are you 
 satisfied that no one will now take any steps to find 
 
 you?" 
 
 Cecile made no reply. She was seeking for some 
 means, not of flight, but of death, by which she might 
 escape from the fate that the villain was preparing for her. 
 She had no sort of weapon, and the accursed chamber
 
 132 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 had no windows. She might have endeavored to dash 
 her head against the mirrors, but Simancas could easily 
 have prevented her doing so; and besides, she might not 
 succeed in killing herself at the first blow. Could she 
 call out for help? No one would come to her. Her 
 cries would not even be heard; the thick hangings would 
 deaden them like the vaulted roof of a dungeon. 
 
 Should she implore for mercy ? As soon ask it from a 
 tiger. Even the tiger, when he has satisfied his appetite, 
 disdains the living prey that passes within reach of his 
 claws; but the appetite of Simaneas was beginning to 
 develop. He gloated over Cecile's anguish, and would, 
 if he could, have drunk her tears, as a tiger drinks 
 blood. 
 
 Simaneas evidently took a fiendish pleasure in pro- 
 longing this painful situation, for Cecile was absolutely 
 defenceless, and entirely in his power, but he preferred 
 to dally over his approaching victory. He could see 
 hatred and disgust painted in the young girl's exquisite 
 features, and the sight of these roused his passions to the 
 maddest extent. The end was very near, but it seemed 
 as if he considered that she had not yet suffered enough, 
 and his object was to give himself the pleasure of gloat- 
 ing over her agonies. " You have done well," sneered he, 
 " in having endeavored to repulse me. Had you yielded 
 to me I might have accepted you, but my passion would 
 have rapidly passed away, but you draw back, you affect 
 virtuous instincts, and you are ready to tear out my 
 eyes. Delicious; that is just the seasoning that I require. 
 If I could hope that I could never bend you willingly to 
 my desires, I should like it all the better, for then I 
 should have found what I have for a long time been 
 seeking for, a woman that I could torture, and who would 
 yet be mine." 
 
 " Coward 1 " cried Cecile. 
 
 "Yes, yes, abuse me, and prepare to tear my eyes 
 out. You cannot think how pleasant you are making 
 things for me." As he spoke he crept up slyly to 
 her. 
 
 " Coward ! " she repeated, and as she spoke she spat 
 in his face. 
 
 The villain at once made a rush at her, but she escaped 
 him by diving under his outstretched arm, and darting
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 133 
 
 behind an ottoman. As she rose from her recumbent 
 position she caught sight of the poker, which, having 
 been placed between the bars, was now red hot, and 
 would prove a formidable weapon, even in the hands of a 
 woman. She darted upon it. " One more step," cried 
 she, " and I will burn out your eyes." 
 
 " Ha, ha," laughed he. " Do you force me to proceed 
 to extremities ? Well, well, it is your own fault," and 
 as he spoke he pressed the button of an electric bell 
 which was near him in the wall." 
 
 " I will have you tied hand and foot by my servants, 
 and then we shall see what you will do. I might even 
 tell them to gag you, but I would rather hear you beg 
 and entreat for mercy, so that there was no one but me 
 to hear you." 
 
 Cecile felt that she was indeed lost, and gazed around 
 her for some fresh means of escape. Simancas kept at a 
 distance from the flaming weapon in her hand. He was 
 waiting for help to enable him to accomplish his object 
 without risking his skin. There was a candelabra full of 
 candles on the mantel-piece; Cecile seized it, and set fire 
 to the brocade hangings which concealed the walls. 
 Before Simancas could wrench it from her hand, the 
 whole place was in a blaze. As the smoke began to fill 
 the room, he made another rush at her, but she hurled 
 the red hot poker at his head, and he started back with 
 a shriek of agony. Cecile profited by this moment's 
 respite to make her escape. She rushed into the next 
 room, and almost fell over two footmen, who had 
 answered the bell, but who now only thought of rescuing 
 their master, who was in the burning room. She let 
 them pass by her, and ran down the staircase, crying out 
 " fire, fire." As the footmen had entered they had 
 omitted to close the door; Cecile was therefore able 
 to make her way into the garden without any hindrance. 
 The porter had left his lodge, and was gazing stupidly 
 at the smoke which was beginning to pour out of the 
 building, and she crept past him without his seeing her 
 and then opened the door, without pausing to see what 
 progress the conflagration had made. All she thought 
 of was to escape from the clutches of Simancas, who waa 
 quite capable of sending his servants in pursuit of her 
 She felt that she would not be in safety until she reached
 
 184 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne ; it was not far off, 
 and she hurried to it. She knew that she should be able 
 to get a conveyance there, although at that hour the 
 number of vehicles decreased, and the streets were 
 almost dark, but she ran with all her speed to the Arch 
 of Triumph, which she could see towering up in front of 
 her, and which, in her eyes, looked as a beacon on a rock- 
 bound coast appears to storm-tossed mariners. Beyond 
 it was the haven of safety. There was Paris, living, 
 moving Paris, in which she was certain of finding aid and 
 assistance. 
 
 She fancied that she could hear the sound of hurried 
 footsteps pursuing her, but she never stopped to ascertain 
 the correctness of her supposition. Cecile had looked for 
 the cab in which she had come, and which she had left at 
 the corner of the Rue Pergolees, but it was no longer 
 there. Evidently Josephine had believed the message 
 that the footman had given her, and had gone away. All 
 that she had to do was to find another conveyance, and 
 could she but reach the Place de 1'Etoile she felt sure that 
 she could do so, for there was a cabstand at the end of 
 the Avenue of the Champs Elysees. Then all she would 
 have to do would be to drive to the Rue Frochot, for she 
 had resolved not to return home without having seen 
 George Cransac. Would he still be at home, or would he 
 have grown tired of waiting for her ? The time had flown, 
 whilst she was defending herself against the villainous 
 attempts of Simancas, and it was now seven o'clock. Her 
 drive to the Rue Frochot would take at least forty minutes 
 more. If Josephine had gone direct to George, and 
 repeated the message that had been given, what would 
 he think of her, and of her having at the last moment 
 changed her mind, and broken her appointment ? It was 
 enough to make him believe that she was faithless to him, 
 and had been deceiving him all along. Such thoughts as 
 these were not suited to soothe her feelings after the terri- 
 ble shock that she had sustained, and she reached the Rue 
 Frochot in a state of extreme nervousness and anxiety. 
 She almost hoped not to find the man sbe had so ardently 
 desired to see, so great fear had she of being received 
 unkindly. How was she to nai'rate to him the trial that 
 she had passed through in all its native hideousness ? 
 How could she tell him all the shameful details ? Might
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 135 
 
 lie not then demand satisfaction from the man who had 
 insulted her, and in a duel might not George's life be 
 sacrificed ? Unable to come to any decision, she resolved 
 to leave all to chance, and felt that everything depended 
 upon the reception that he would accord her. 
 
 As a beginning the porter made an unpleasant remark. 
 "What, another ! " muttered he; "it seems as if it was the 
 day for visits." Then, as she persisted in going upstairs, 
 he added: "As you like, but I have not seen her come 
 down." 
 
 Cecile went upstairs more troubled in mind than ever. 
 The words, "What another?" evidently referred to 
 Josephine, who must have been there a short time before. 
 What could she have said to George ? Had she contented 
 herself with stating without further comment that her 
 mistress would not come ? Cecile could not guess what 
 had taken place, and every pulse in her heart throbbed 
 as she rang at the door of the man she loved. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " CAN WE NOT TRUST EACH OTHER ?" 
 
 As Cransac had never had a servant in his life, he 
 opened the door himself, and a sudden change came over 
 his face as he recognized his visitor. " I did not expect 
 you mademoiselle," said he, with a frown. 
 
 " Was I wrong then in coming ?" asked she, in deep 
 distress. 
 
 " No, only I expected you earlier. May I ask you to 
 come in?" 
 
 He ushered her into a plainly furnished room, which he 
 used as a study, offered her a seat, and remained standing 
 in front of her. 
 
 " If you only knew what I had gone through to-day," 
 faltered she. 
 
 " I know perfectly," answered George, coldly. " You 
 received a letter from a lady who wished to give you an 
 order, and you took the trouble to write to me that you 
 were going to wait on her at five o'clock ; but you did not 
 tell me that you would remain there. Therefore I was a
 
 136 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 little surprised at learning that you would not be here 
 this evening." 
 
 " Ah I then you have seen ? " 
 
 " The woman I introduced to you, and in whom you 
 were kind enough to interest yourself. Yes, mademoiselle, 
 I have seen her." 
 
 " And she told you ? " 
 
 "Hardly anything. She told me that the lady to whom 
 you had gone had kept you to dinner, I suppose, and 
 would have gone into further explanations, but I wished 
 to hear nothing further, and dismissed her." 
 
 " Happily he knows nothing," thought Cecile. But for 
 all that she could see that he suspected her; his reserved 
 manner, his icy tone, and the distant manner in which he 
 addressed her, all indicated that he did not trust her. 
 To convince him that he had no cause to doubt her it 
 would be necessaiy to tell him the whole truth, and she 
 had never before so thoroughly understood the truth of 
 the old adage " Truth is not always palatable." 
 
 " I am glad to see," continued George, in the same 
 sarcastic tone, " that the lady has at last been able to 
 dispense with your company; at least I presume so, since 
 you have obtained her permission to come and see me." 
 
 " "Why do you speak to me in this manner ? " asked 
 Cecile, sadly. " What have I done to you ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all, mademoiselle, for I have no right to 
 expect anything of you, not even the courtesy of punctu- 
 ality, and I trust you will not do me the unjustice of 
 thinking that I am complaining about having missed my 
 dinner on your account." 
 
 " No, I think that you are angry with me for other 
 reasons, and much more serious ones. Well, if you have 
 any friendship for me, tell me what they are, and let me 
 know of what you accuse me." 
 
 " I accuse you of nothing, mademoiselle. I have not 
 the right to do so, nor have you any account to give me 
 of your conduct; but I have the right to be grieved," 
 returned George, speaking with an emotion that he strove 
 in vain to hide. " I am foolish I know, but how can I 
 help it ? I had put my whole confidence in you. I had 
 dreamed of a possible future for us both, and I had 
 fancied that this very evening was to have been a com- 
 mencement of that sweet life which you yourself had
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 137 
 
 mapped out for us; but the vision has fled. I might have 
 looked for its doing so." 
 
 "And so," returned Cecile slowly, "you think then 
 that I have lied to you, and that this story of an order 
 which compelled me to go from one end of Paris to the 
 other was a mere invention on my part ? You must 
 think me very silly, for there was no reason why I 
 should have written to you making the appointment, and 
 had I wished to Lave acted unfairly to you, I could have 
 chosen my opportunity better." 
 
 " Perhaps you had no alternative." 
 
 " You mean that I was forced to obey an order. From 
 whom, pray, should I receive one I who am at no one's 
 beck and call ? " Then, as George made no reply, she 
 continued: "Be open, and speak out; you believe that I 
 had an appointment with some man, which it was impos- 
 sible for me not to keep." 
 
 " And why should I not think so ? " asked George, gaz- 
 ing steadily into the young girl's face, whose eyes never 
 for a moment fell before his. 
 
 "You have a wretched opinion of me," said she, 
 bitterly. " "Would you believe me if I showed you the 
 letter which I received, a woman's letter, signed Georg- 
 ina Acton ? " 
 
 " I do not ask to see it." 
 
 " And if I swore to you by the memory of my father, 
 that I left my home this morning on a mere matter of 
 business " 
 
 " I should not doubt you, but I beg you to explain 
 to me how it was that the woman who was with you 
 came to me to tell me that I should not see you this 
 evening ? " 
 
 " I did not send her." 
 
 "What! do you mean she invented the whole thing? 
 And to what end pray ? " 
 
 "She invented nothing; she believed what she was 
 told." 
 
 "Then she was deceived; but by whom? Tell me, I 
 beg of yon, and do not not leave me in suspense; this 
 doubt is killing me. You are still silent. Can you not 
 see how I am suffering ? " 
 
 Cecile too was suffering terribly. To put an end to 
 this embarrassing dialogue all she had to do was to
 
 138 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 narrate her unfortunate adventure and this she did not 
 dare do for fear of future consequences between George 
 and Simancas. 
 
 After some consideration she resolved to tell him what 
 had occurred, without naming the villain who had endea- 
 vored to draw her into the snare. "Well," said she, 
 after a short silence, " if you must know all, listen. The 
 letter that I received was a lure to draw me into a trap, 
 and I fell into it. I thought that I was going to the house 
 of some wealthy foreign lady, who would give me an exten- 
 sive order for artificial flowers for the United States. 
 And, in proof of the truth of this assertion, I took 
 Josephine Sureau with me, with samples of my work. 
 All this she would have told you had you only listened 
 to her." 
 
 "I allow all that; but when you came to the address 
 that had been given you, you must have seen that you 
 had been hoaxed, and that there was no American lady 
 at all." 
 
 " The villain had foreseen everything; his servants 
 were in the conspiracy, and when 1 asked for Madame 
 Acton, they told me that she was expecting me. How 
 could I guess what was going to take place? I told 
 Josephine to wait for me in the cab, and even took the 
 precaution to tell her to come and ask for me if I was 
 detained for any length of time. ' 
 
 " And instead of obeying your orders, she, who was 
 everything to you, deserted her post ? " 
 
 "Not exactly; a footman was sent to her, presumably 
 from me to tell her not to wait. The poor woman be- 
 lieved the message, and drove to your house, because I 
 told her that you were expecting me." 
 
 " Why did I not question her ? " asked George, strik- 
 ing his forehead. 
 
 "Alas! she could not have told you the danger to 
 which I was exposed." 
 
 " Tell me what it was." 
 
 " Can you not guess the danger a young woman runs 
 when she is betrayed into the clutches of a monster. It 
 is not her money or her life that he demands " 
 
 " What, a man dared ? " 
 
 " I had no distrust; I was taken to a detached building 
 in the garden, and left alone there. As soon as I per-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 139 
 
 ceived that I had been entrapped, I tried to fly, but the 
 doors were closed on me. Then a man came in " 
 
 " Ah ! this is too terrible." 
 
 " He addressed me in the most insulting manner. He 
 had the audacity to tell me that he had bought me, and 
 that I belonged to him soul and body." 
 
 " But did he stop there ? " 
 
 " I spat in his face, and then he rushed upon me 
 
 " And in the unequal strife you were overpowered ? " 
 
 " No," answered Cecile, with energy. 
 
 " How did you contrive to escape him ? " 
 
 " I seized a candle and set fire to the hangings of the 
 room. I burnt my hands, but as his servants rushed in 
 I managed to escape." 
 
 George fell upon his knees, and taking in his hands 
 those delicate fingers, which still bore the trace of the 
 fire, bathed them with tears, and covered them with 
 kisses. " And I I who accused you," faltered he. - 
 
 Then, suddenly starting to his feet, he exclaimed : 
 " His name give me the villain's name ! " 
 
 " His name ? " stammered Cecile; " I do not know his 
 name." 
 
 " What ! " cried George. " You went to his house, and 
 you do not know his name ? " 
 
 " Forgive me, but it was to Madam Acton's that I 
 went." 
 
 " You at least know the address ? " 
 
 " It was near the Bois de Boulogne." 
 
 " Give me the exact address." 
 
 " For what reason ? " 
 
 " That I may punish the scoundrel." 
 
 " You mean to challenge him ? No, you shall not fight 
 for me." 
 
 " I will, unless indeed I find that he is one of those 
 men with whom one cannot fight without degrading 
 oneself." 
 
 " And he is one of those. He has acted like a villain 
 of the lowest stamp, and should be treated as such." 
 
 " You are right. He has committed an offence in the 
 eye of the law, and I will denounce him, and let him 
 pay the penalty of his crime; that will be the better 
 course." 
 
 " Then all will know that I was in his house for an
 
 140 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 hour, and do you think that he will hesitate to calumni- 
 ate me ? He will say that I came to him willingly; and 
 how can I prove the contrary ? No, you must not do 
 that." 
 
 " Then I must kill him," replied George, in a deter- 
 mined tone. 
 
 " He will refuse to fight, he will deny everything, and 
 will swear that I came to his house of my own free will." 
 
 George grew deadly pale, and a spasm of pain con- 
 tracted his features. " Good," he said, in broken accents. 
 " Since you insist on it I will do nothing, but I shall be 
 at liberty to think what I like of this obstinacy of yours, 
 in refusing to give me this man's name and address. Ah ! 
 mademoiselle, you had better have kept this tale to 
 yourself; there was no need for you to have told it to 
 me." 
 
 " You are right, and that proves the truth of it. Had I 
 wished to deceive you, it would have been easy for me to 
 have invented a more plausible story to have justified my 
 want of punctuality." 
 
 ' You cannot always think of everything. You hoped 
 that this one would have been sufficient for me, and now 
 that you see how determined I am to sift the matter 
 thoroughly, you seek to stop. I now begin to Bunder- 
 stand." 
 
 " You believe that I am deceiving you; this was all that 
 was wanted to fill my cup to the brim," sobbed Cecile. 
 " What can I do, great heavens ! to convince you that you 
 have no grounds on which to reproach me ? " 
 
 " Give me his address then." 
 
 " So that you may risk your life against his, against 
 that villian's ! Never ! Sooner let me die, and then later 
 on you will know that I was not guilty, and will shed a 
 tear for me." 
 
 " How can I put faith in your story ? Do I even know 
 that you have received this letter with the English 
 signature ? Had you done so you would have shown it 
 to me." 
 
 Cecile could hold out no longer; to lose George's love 
 and to rest under the weight of his contempt was too 
 much. She drew the letter from her bosom, and handed 
 it to him. " Here it is," said she; " will you believe me 
 now ? "
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 141 
 
 George took the letter and read the address. " How 
 did this foreign woman know where you lived ? " asked he. 
 
 "Bead the letter; you will then see that the woman or 
 the man who wrote it got my address from a wholesale 
 dealer, with whom I have done business for a long time." 
 
 George took the letter from its envelope, his eyes were 
 dim, and his hands trembled, so deep was the emotion 
 he felt. He perused it all down to the very signature, 
 from which he learned nothing, as it was a false one; but 
 beneath the signature " Hue Pergolese, at the corner of 
 the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne." When she gave 
 him the letter in her own justification, Cecile had for- 
 gotten that she had handed him the clue to the identity 
 of the man who had so basely ensnared her. 
 
 " That man ! " vociferated George. " Is that the man 
 who has laid this devilish trap for you ? Ah ! this time, 
 I have got the villian firmly." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Cecile, who did not know 
 of George's old grudge against the marquis. 
 
 " I mean that the man who lives there has already 
 treated me in a most scandalous manner, and that I will 
 now be revenged on him for all the insults he has heaped 
 on my head." 
 
 " How can he have insulted you ? You must be deceiv- 
 ing yourself." 
 
 " Not at all. At the corner of the Rue Pergolese, on 
 entering the avenue of the Bois de Boulogne, there is a 
 house, and that house belongs to Simancas." 
 '"Simancas? " 
 
 " Yes; a Spaniard who calls himself a marquis, and Las 
 his lackeys call him General. The man you saw was a 
 foreigner, was he not ? " 
 
 "I think so; but " 
 
 " What is he like ? " 
 
 "Rather tall, broad shoulders, very dark, wearing a full 
 black beard." 
 
 " It is the same man, I tell you. Where can he have 
 seen you, that he set this trap for you ? " 
 
 " Nowhere; at least, I do not recollect seeing him any- 
 where." 
 
 " Then he was ignorant of your existence ? You must 
 have been pointed out to him. He pays unsexed women 
 to find out poor and virtuous girls for him. Who can
 
 142 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 have found you out ? Ah ! but I seem to recognize this 
 writing." 
 
 George examined the letter more attentively. "Now I 
 know it," cried he, after a strict scrutiny. " It is Juliet." 
 
 "Juliet!" repeated Cecile, as though the name had 
 suggested a vague, indefinite recollection to her. 
 
 " Yes, Juliet, a woman who, to my misfortune, I for- 
 merly knew." 
 
 " Were you her lover ? " 
 
 " Yes, with many others ; but, I confess it, I was foolish 
 enough to show myself with her, and she rewarded me 
 by slandering me everywhere. She hates me, and I 
 return the feeling cordially. She dealt the blow at me, 
 in endeavoring to throw you into the anus of Simancas." 
 
 " Have you spoken of me to her ?" 
 
 "Never. I have never seen her since I met you." 
 
 " Then how was she able to learn that you knew me ?" 
 
 " How can we tell ? Perhaps she saw. you in the street, 
 and your beauty attracted her attention, and as she has 
 fallen so low as to pander for the passions of a wealthy 
 voluptary, she may have followed you." 
 
 " I should have noticed it, as I did when that man fol- 
 lowed us on the day when we were last together." 
 
 The recollection which the girl roused in George's 
 mind caused a fresh suspicion to come across him. This 
 spy was the servant and ready tool of Cornelian. Had the 
 Lion Queen and Juliet conspired together to remove a 
 rival from their path? It seemed hardly likely; and yet 
 he was aware that they had met since his first visit to the 
 menagerie, when Juliet had told Cornelian his address in 
 the Rue Frochot. 
 
 Quivering with emotion, Cecile for a few moments 
 reflected deeply. '' What is that woman's name ?" asked 
 she, suddenly. 
 
 " I told you Juliet." 
 
 "Juliet what?" 
 
 " Juliet Taupier." 
 
 " Ah ! sobbed Cecile, hiding her face in her hands, " I 
 had guessed it all, only too truly." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Her lover is " 
 
 " Finish your sentence." 
 
 "The man whom I fancied I loved; but I could hardly
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 143 
 
 believe in such, infamy. Now I understand all. He has 
 mentioned me to his new mistress, and they have plotted 
 together to hand me over to that man." 
 
 "And I saw the scoundrel with Juliet; his name is 
 Arthur." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 "I heard Juliet call him so, when she insulted me 
 before him, and I struck him." 
 
 " You struck him ?" 
 
 " Yes, and he did not return tbe blow." 
 
 A flush of shame passed across Cecile's cheek as she 
 heard of the cowardly conduct of the man she had once 
 loved. And this thoroughly feminine feeling did not for 
 a moment injure her in George Cransac's eyes, whose 
 heart was a sufficiently noble one to understand her com- 
 pletely. " I cannot comprehend how it was I did not 
 recognize his portrait the moment that I saw it at your 
 rooms," remarked he, to draw her mind away from the 
 painful flood of recollection that had evidently swept 
 over it. 
 
 " I thought I had told you," returned she, " that since 
 he had shaved off his moustache he had altered greatly. 
 But now you have the portrait. I entreated you to burn 
 it, or to tear it up. I do so no longer, but supplicate you 
 to cast it into the common sewer." 
 
 As Cecile spoke the fire flashed from her eyes; and if 
 George had still any doubts of her, the transport of pas- 
 sion which pervaded her whole being showed plainly 
 that she had nothing with which to reproach herself. 
 The noble-minded girl, who showed such anger against 
 a debased man, could not stoop to a lie. " No," replied 
 George ; " I will keep that portrait. It may be of use to 
 me later on, when I know where to find the original of it; 
 but I promise you that I will not lay hands on either this 
 rogue or his accomplice; the police will have them, in good 
 time; but it is Simancas that I want." 
 
 " Why so ? " asked Cecile, eagerly; " he is no better or 
 worse than the others, and is, therefore, as much beneath 
 your anger as they are." 
 
 " He has what they have not got a certain social 
 standing, which prevents his shrinking back if he is 
 challenged."
 
 144 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " Are you then resolved to do so, in spite of my tears 
 and entreaties ? " 
 
 " More so than ever. I have an old score to settle with 
 him, and finish off that and. the new one at the same 
 time." 
 
 " But it is I that he has insulted I alone, for he did 
 not know that I lo that I knew you." 
 
 Cecile had, in a moment of forgetf ulness, almost uttered 
 the words " I loved you." 
 
 " Are you defending his conduct to me ? " asked George, 
 harshly. 
 
 "No, certainly not; but I can see what he will reply 
 to your demands that I am not your wife, nor even your 
 mistress, and that you have no authority to act in my 
 defence." 
 
 " I shall not argue the point with him. I shall strike 
 him across the face to begin with, and, if he is not the 
 veriest coward upon earth, that will make him fight ! " 
 
 G-eorge forgot the wise words of warning that Valbrec 
 had given him: that people who were acquainted with 
 his case would refuse to cross swords with a man sus- 
 pected of forgery, and discharged in default of sufficient 
 evidence to convict him. 
 
 Simancas would certainly take this view of the case, 
 and would refuse to fight, even if the provocation he 
 received was followed by an act of personal violence. 
 
 But of this Cecile was ignorant. All she desired was 
 to prevent an encounter which might prove fatal to the 
 man she loved. " Once again I ask you as a favor," 
 pleaded she, taking his hands in hers, " do not risk your 
 h'fe for me. Do not honor this villain by crossing swords 
 with him." 
 
 " Take care," returned George, bitterly; " if you per- 
 sist in your request, I shall begin to think that you have 
 a tender feeling for him, and are afraid that I shall kill 
 him! " 
 
 " How can you say so ? " replied Cecile, deeply humili- 
 ated at the idea. 
 
 "How do I know?" answered George, ironically. 
 " You are perhaps in fear for him. You are right to be 
 BO. I am a dead shot, and can use my sword fairly well. 
 I vow to you that I will not be too gentle with this noble 
 marquis from across the sea, who affects to treat France
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 145 
 
 as a conquered country, and our women as if they were 
 purchased slaves, that he could trample on as he liked. 
 Is it his high position or the lofty airs he gives himself 
 that have pleased you, or is it the magnificence of his 
 mansion that has turned your head ? " 
 
 "Do not say such cruel things," faltered Cecile; "you 
 know that I despise him, and that I love you." 
 
 " You love me ! " exclaimed George, drawing her to 
 him. " It is the first time that you have ever told me so. 
 I will believe you when you prove it to me. I am sure 
 if I were your husband I should be unable to resist your 
 entreaties ! " 
 
 Cecile closed his mouth with a kiss. Once more their lips 
 met in a burning, passionate kiss, as they had met before 
 on the step of the ruined house ; but this time Cecile did 
 not take him for another, and knew that she was clasped 
 in the arms of a man that she loved with all her soul. 
 The past was all forgotten in the mutual transports of 
 their love, and the thought of those degraded beings who 
 had plotted against their happiness passed completely 
 away; they lived only for each other. 
 
 That night Josephine waited vainly for the return of 
 her mistress to Belleville.
 
 146 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 A PENNY-A-LINEB. 
 
 HAPPINESS drives away gloomy thoughts makes the 
 heart joyous. For the past few days Cransac had been 
 the happiest of men. Life looked bright, and he firmly 
 believed that all his troubles were at an end. 
 
 There was to be no more doubt, no more hesitation. 
 He was rio longer going to hide his riches from anyone, 
 not even from Cecile Cambremer, who had promised, after 
 much hesitation, to share his wealth with him. She under- 
 stood that by remaining separated from him she would 
 always be exposed to the attacks of her cowardly enemies ; 
 and she loved George too well to refuse to agree to his 
 wish, that she should never leave him. She had, however, 
 stipulated that she should still continue the business which 
 insured her independence. 
 
 She was to direct the operations of her w y orkroom from 
 a distance, and Josephine Sureau was to perform the 
 active duties of overlooker. The project seemed rather 
 impracticable to George, but he had been induced to 
 assent to it. 
 
 He had resolved upon quite a different class of existence 
 when he had secured and furnished a fitting place of 
 abode. He was on the lookout for one, and in the mean- 
 time Cecile took up her residence in the Rue Frochot, to 
 the utter bewilderment of the porter, who had been all 
 smiles and civility since he had heard that George was a 
 great deal richer than his master, the landlord. The 
 lovers lived without a cloud to mar their happiness. They 
 took their dinner at a restaurant, the porter's wife looked 
 after the rooms, and all went smoothly and happily. 
 
 George told her the whole story of his arrest, and his 
 detention in Mazas, but refrained from informing her 
 from what source his wealth had come. He repeated the 
 old story of the anonymous inheritance, and she believed 
 what he told her implicitly. 
 
 The gold and banknotes which George had brought 
 away on his last visit to the ruined house were now sec- 
 urely stored away in a safe, which George had purchased,
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 147 
 
 and which was firmly secured to the floor of the bed- 
 chamber, where a safe had never been seen before, for 
 the simple reason that those who had previously occupied 
 the room had never possessed anything worth putting 
 under lock and key. 
 
 George, the first time that Cecile was absent for a short 
 time, had removed to his present abode all his wealth,which 
 he had temporarily placed in the wardrobe at the Grand 
 Hotel. He had not said a word to her regarding his inten- 
 tion to build at Montmartre : but he had concluded his bar- 
 gain for the land, and it was now in course of being sur- 
 rounded by a hoarding, which would prevent robbers and 
 loafers from entering the place. Therefore, George had 
 no real cause for anxiety of any description. He heard 
 no more of Simancas and his vile accomplices; the 
 failure of their plot must have discouraged them, and 
 it would have been folly to have thrown himself in their 
 way. " Let sleeping dogs lie," is an old saying, and in 
 nine cases out of ten, a very sensible one. Cransac 
 hoped never to find them in his path, for he might be 
 tempted to forget himself, and disastrous results might 
 follow. Chance had also smiled upon him, by deliver- 
 ing him from another source of anxiety. 
 
 The fair of Montmartre was over, and the men of the 
 shows had packed up their abodes, and betaken them- 
 selves, with their performers and wild beasts, to other 
 parts of France, and so Cransac was no longer apprehen- 
 sive of meeting Cornelian, who, he presumed, had gone 
 off like the rest. He had entirely forgotten that at 
 Valbrec's dinner some of the better informed among the 
 guests had mentioned that the Lion Queen of the Boule- 
 vard de Clichy was about to make her first appearance 
 at one of the Paris theatres, whilst he thought that she 
 was far away giving her performances in some provincial 
 fair. He had not given up all idea of a journalistic 
 career, for Cecile, who dreaded the effects of idleness 
 upon her lover, urged him to seek for some opening in 
 the literary world, and he felt no disinclination to follow 
 her advice. Since Cecile had given herself up to him, he 
 had neglected all his former friends; and Valbrec, who 
 was much occupied, hardly noticed the disappearance of 
 his young friend. Of all those who had assembled round 
 that merry dinner table, Lourdier was the only one that
 
 148 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 Cransac had met again. He had gone with him to the 
 to the notary to settle about the property at Montmartre, 
 and had also called upon him to pay him the money that 
 he had lost at cards. 
 
 Cransac desired to be absent from Cecile's side as little 
 as possible; and it was she who, with a true woman's 
 instinct, understood that to make love endure for ever it 
 was not good to be always together. One fine morning 
 after breakfast she proposed a new arrangement for the 
 day. She had resolved to go alone to the workroom to 
 give her orders to Josephine, whilst George should go to 
 the office of the newspaper upon which Yalbrec was 
 employed, and endeavor to enter into some definite ar- 
 rangement for employment with him. George was to 
 spend the morning at the office, and meet Cecile for din- 
 ner at the Cafe Anglais, after which they were 
 to go to the theatre. On that evening a new piece 
 was to be played at the Porte Saint Martin Theatre, 
 and Cecile, who had never been to a first performance, 
 was most anxious to be present. It had been settled that 
 George should go and secure seats, if there were any 
 still vacant, and after a tender farewell the lovers separ- 
 ated. The office of the newspaper was on the mezzanine 
 floor of a house in the Boulevard des Italiens, and as Val- 
 brec was never there before three o'clock, George had 
 plenty of time in which to go to the theatre, which he did, 
 leisurely smoking a cigar on the way. Upon his arrival 
 at the box office he was informed that there was not a 
 seat in anj portion of the house available; and yet, after 
 all, it was only one of those spectacular pieces, a mere 
 extravaganza, with plenty of ballet, certainly not a work of 
 any literary merit, and yet all Paris was in a f ennent to be 
 present at it. George did not care a bit what they were 
 playing, he had not even read the posters; but, as Cecile 
 had expressed a wish to see it, he was much annoyed at 
 not being able to gratify the first wish she had expressed. 
 In Paris, however, everything can be obtained for money. 
 As Cransac was leaving the box office he was accosted on 
 the pavement by an individual with a red scarf round his 
 neck, who offered to sell him a ticket for one of the stage 
 boxes for two hundred francs. Since George had stilled 
 the admonitions of his conscience, he did not at all care 
 what money he spent. He therefore followed the man
 
 TSE FELON'S BEQUEST. 149 
 
 into a neighboring -wine shop, and the bargain was con- 
 cluded over the counter. Two hundred francs was a 
 large sum to pay for a box, and Cecile would have been 
 the first to blame him had she known that he had done 
 so, but he resolved that he would say nothing to her 
 about the price, and was only too delighted at being able 
 to gratify her wishes at any cost. 
 
 After completing this stroke of business, George turned 
 back to the office of the paper, and was ushered into 
 Valbrec's sanctum, a little ill-furnished den opening into 
 the public room, where visitors were continually coming 
 and going. Valbrec was just commencing his society 
 jottings, but he was quite willing to put by his work for 
 a moment, for he- was not one of those who are too fond 
 of work; besides, he was really pleased to see George 
 once more. 
 
 " Where the deuce have you been hiding yourself since 
 our dinner at Brebant's ?" cried he. " I began to ask 
 myself if you had not gone back to London to collar the 
 rest of the money that fell on you from the skies." 
 
 "No," returned George, who did not care for too many 
 questions regarding his wonderful heritage. "I have 
 not had to cross the channel again. My banker has made 
 me a remittance and all my business is now settled. 
 
 " Bravo ! Tour fortune will be better invested here in 
 France, where you have it in your own hands." Then, as 
 George seated himself at the ink-stained table, at which 
 he had been writing, he continued: "I heard of you 
 from Lourdier. It seems that he landed you over the 
 ground at Montmartre." 
 
 " Yes, though I did not much fancy the bargain. I let 
 myself be inveigled into it." 
 
 " He tells me that you are going to build there ? " 
 
 " I have not made up my mind about that." 
 
 " I advise you to look twice before you do. Lourdier 
 is a very good fellow, but he is shrewder than you are, 
 and if you go in for building from the plans of his friend 
 Thomas, you will be plucked pretty bare. Take some 
 comfortable rooms in a good part of the town." 
 
 "I am looking for some." 
 
 "Very good. Make yourself comfortable in them, and 
 don't take all the responsibility and expense of a house
 
 150 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 on your shoulders. Spend your money on yourself, my 
 boy, not in rent and taxes, and servants." 
 
 " I agree with you entirely." 
 
 " Well, now tell me what you have been doing with 
 yourself since the last day we met. I hope that you 
 have not begun to play again. Ecarte does not agree 
 with you, and the next time you may not get off for a 
 few thousand francs." 
 
 " "Where could I have played ? I don't belong to any 
 club now ? " 
 
 " No more do you," answered Valbrec, who recollected 
 too late the insulting manner in which George had been 
 treated in the Rue Volney. " Let us talk of something 
 else. You have, I hope, given up the idea of sending in 
 copy?" 
 
 " Well, no; I came here expressly to ask jou. if I could 
 be of any use here." 
 
 " You have plenty of talent and intelligence, but that 
 is practically saying nothing." 
 
 "I don't understand you." 
 
 " My dear fellow, general talent in no particular line 
 is not adapted to journalism. To succeed you must have 
 a special aptitude, and I cannot see that you possess 
 this." 
 
 " You spoke to me of writing paragraphs." 
 
 " If you fancy doing so you can try, but I predict that 
 you will soon grow weary of it. If you were poor, and 
 had to struggle for a living, you might perhaps succeed; 
 but a man only arrives at the goal of success when he is 
 spurred on by necessity, and between ourselves, old 
 man, an amateur journalist isn't up to much. I know 
 that they are not much greater fools than the others. We 
 make use of them by sending them into society to report, 
 because they know how to dress and behave. Journalism 
 resembles diplomacy; to succeed in it you must be born 
 to it." 
 
 " Why do you endeavor to discourage me ? " 
 
 "You are in error; I only want to open your eyes. 
 Come, do you want to write for the pleasure of seeing 
 yourself in print?' 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Or for the sake of ' interviewing political and literary 
 celebrities?'"
 
 FELON'S BEQUEST. 151 
 
 " Still less so." 
 
 " Then rest satisfied with enjoying your fortune, and 
 if the mania for writing seizes upon you, write a book. 
 That will fill up your time, and after all you may have 
 something in you; but don't try to get on a paper." 
 
 " You spoke to me quite in a different tone when I met 
 you after my mishap." 
 
 "Because then you were absolutely without resources, 
 and poverty works wonders. But now that you are roll- 
 ing in money, if you try to write you will lose time that 
 you might use in a better way. "Why do you not look 
 out for a nice girl. You will have no trouble in finding 
 one a great deal better than Juliet Taupier, as I told 
 you before." 
 
 " I have found one already." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me ? It would have saved me 
 the trouble of preaching a sermon to you. Well, amuse 
 yourself in this life, and leave conceited ones to 
 endeavor to pass themselves off for what they are not. Is 
 she pretty?" 
 
 " Perfectly lovely." 
 
 " I don't suppose it is she that has put it into your 
 head to write in the papers ? " asked Valbrec, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " But she is the one that has done it," answered 
 Cransac. " She does not wan't me to be idle." 
 
 " Good, idleness is the mother of all the vices. Thie 
 lady is very sensible, .but it seems a strange idea on her 
 part to imagine that a rich man like you wants to work. 
 What class of society does she belong to ? Is she a 
 literary lady ? If so, I pity you." 
 
 " Not at all. She is an artificial flower maker." 
 
 " Curious one doesn't often meet one with such ideas; 
 but no matter, both of you will soon lose this desire for 
 literary distinction." 
 
 "Perhaps; but our connection is not a slight one. We 
 are going to set up house together." 
 
 'TH^e more reason not to quarrel, for what you have 
 undertaken is a serious matter. You watch your treasure 
 carefully, and hide her from all your friends." 
 
 " Not at all. You shall see her." 
 
 " I shall be charmed, especially if, after having seen
 
 152 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 her, you will permit me to tell you my opinion of her 
 frankly." 
 
 "I am sure you can only form a favorable one of her." 
 
 " You lovers are always in extremes, and you appear to 
 have gone in for it seriously. Don't be afraid, however, 
 I am not going to undertake to cure you; indeed, I should 
 only give myself useless trouble. Go on, dear boy, only 
 don't run into any foolishness for her. All these romances 
 come to an end somehow, and it is the woman who takes 
 upon herself the duty of untying the knot." 
 
 " Cransac was a little annoyed at hearing his old com- 
 rade speak so lightly of Cecile, and he was about to pro- 
 test that this was not a mere passing fancy, when he saw 
 Valbrec beckoning to some one who had just entered the 
 adjoining rcom, the door into which had remained open. 
 " Forgive me," said he, " but I have taken the sub-editor's 
 place to-day, who is away goodness knows on what busi- 
 ness, and I have to look after the paper." Then, turning 
 to the new comer, he cried out: " Come in my dear 
 Saintonge, don't put yourself out; this is a friend of 
 mine who is with me. What interesting items have you 
 brought me?" 
 
 The man he had called came in, and Cransac saw a 
 young fellow shabbily dressed, his features as much worn 
 as his coat, but still shrewd and intelligent-looking. 
 " Cransac," said Valbrec, " permit me to introduce you to 
 our head reporter." Cransac bowed, and prepared 
 to take his departure. 
 
 " I have two matters," returned Saintonge, " a big one 
 and a little one. They are not quite fresh, but I am the 
 only one who has got hold of them." 
 
 " Let us hear what they are," said Valbrec. 
 
 " First, a fire in the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne. 
 The conflagration broke out in a detached building, which 
 burnt like a box of matches not government matches, 
 you understand." 
 
 " But, Saintonge, that lias been in all the papers. It is 
 a very stale piece of news." 
 
 "Wait a bit; the papers all attributed it to an act of 
 negligence on the part of a servant, who held a candle 
 too near some lace curtains. Well, they are wrong; the 
 place was set on fire on purpose by a woman." 
 
 " Look here, you are telling me some made-up yarn that
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 153 
 
 will land us in an action for libel. Are you sure of the 
 facts of the case ?" 
 
 " I had them from the servant who was discharged on 
 account of the accident." 
 
 " Did he mention the woman's name ? " 
 
 " No, he had never seen her before, but the story he 
 told was a funny one. A girl had been decoyed to the 
 house, and in saving herself from the violence of the 
 master had set fire to the place, and that was why the 
 marquis had not given her in charge." 
 
 " What marquis ? " 
 
 " General, the Marquis of Simancas, the man who has 
 that fine house at the corner of the Rue Pergolese. 
 The house narrowly escaped being burnt down, and the 
 hidalgo being roasted." 
 
 " Hulloa ! " exclaimed Valbrec, looking atCransac, "that 
 is your man, my dear fellow." 
 
 "Does the gentleman know the marquis ?" asked Saint- 
 onge. 
 
 " Very slightly," returned George, very much vexed. 
 
 " You know enough of him not to like him much," re- 
 turned Valbrec, " and here is an excellent opportunity 
 for you to pay off your grudge. Shall I give him a first- 
 class slating in to-morrow's issue ? It will please our 
 readers, for they all detest these insolent foreigners. 
 Saintonge can begin this evening by a few carefully con- 
 sidered lines, which he can slip in amongst the events of 
 the day. 
 
 " * Great scandal in a princely abode in the Avenue du 
 Bois de Boulogne. Commencement of a drama which 
 may be played out in a court of justice, in camera.' Next 
 day I will write a scathing article on the disreputable 
 class of foreigners who now infest Paris, and if Simancas 
 comes here to ask for an explanation, I will receive him ; 
 unless, indeed, you would like to take that duty on your- 
 self ? " 
 
 Cransac was in no hurry to reply, for two separate 
 feelings were contending in his bosom; on one side he 
 was rejoiced to find an unbiassed witness confirm the 
 recital of Cecile Cambremer; and, on the other, he did 
 not wish his friend Valbrec to make a violent attack upon 
 Simancas in his paper. The marquis had kept silence on 
 an adventure in which he had not played a very distiu-
 
 154 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 guished part, but if lie were pushed hard, he might 
 accuse Cecile of having set fire to his house, and swear 
 that she had come there of her own accord. 
 
 " Well," said Valbrec, " what do you say ? " 
 
 " I should prefer another mode of revenge. I have a 
 personal quarrel with the man " 
 
 " And you would rather take your own method of re- 
 venge ? Perhaps you are right, and the paper would 
 have a chance of losing the case. The servant who gave 
 Saintonge the information would very likely leave us in 
 the lurch at the last moment. We should never be able 
 to find the woman who had been insulted and Simancas 
 would get damages and costs against us. No, we will 
 say nothing more. We have noticed the conflagration, 
 and we will say nothing about the incendiary, or what is 
 hidden in the background." 
 
 "Just as you like," muttered the reporter. 
 
 " And now for the second item of news that you have 
 brought me, my dear Saintonge." 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 THE MURDER AT MONTMARTKE. 
 
 " THAT is a more serious matter. It is about the man 
 who was murdered the other day on the Hill of Mont- 
 martre." 
 
 At this unexpected announcement George turned 
 deadly pale. It seemed as if this collector of accidents 
 and offences would never have ceased darting poisoned 
 arrows at him. The murdered man was doubtless the 
 scoundrel that George had struck dowTi on the night of 
 his last visit to his treasure. His recent happiness had 
 almost made him forget this tragic adventure, and if he 
 did occasionally think of it he did so without any feel- 
 ings of remorse, as it was a legitimate case of self-defence, 
 and he hoped that the world of Paris would not occupy 
 itself much with an occurrence which was so constantly 
 to be seen in the columns of the journals. And now this 
 unpleasant history was all at once recalled to him by a
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 155 
 
 man whose profession it was to show up such events in a 
 manner to satisfy the curiosity of the public." 
 
 " Pooh ! " returned Valbrec, " a loafer about the out- 
 skirt knocked on the head in a drunken row by one of 
 his companions. That is not very interesting, Saintonge." 
 
 " I thought as you did at first, but I have changed my 
 mind since I heard some unexpected news at the inquest. 
 The police think that they have got a clue." 
 
 " A clue to what ? " 
 
 " To this. As there were no papers on the dead man, 
 he was taken to the Morgue, and in three days the body 
 was recognized. He was a convict who had just come 
 out of the Central Prison at Melun, after having done 
 seven years." 
 
 A feeling of relief passed through George's heart 
 when he heard that the man he had killed was after all a 
 mere malefactor." 
 
 " The rogue," continued Saintonge, " had been sen- 
 tenced for complicity in a robbery which made some little 
 noise in its day from its extent and audacity: the safe of 
 a banker in the Rue du Faubourg Poissoniere was taken 
 away one night, and carried no one knew where. There 
 must have been three men at least engaged in the busi- 
 ness, and the messenger of the bank was their accom- 
 plice. The latter has never been heard of, and they only 
 managed to arrest one of the thieves, a man named 
 Mahossier, in whose possession five rolls of gold coin 
 were found, which were recognized by the banker from 
 their being wrapped up in green paper. Mahossier is 
 the fellow who has just been made away with on the Hill 
 of Montmartre." 
 
 " This is serious," remarked Valbrec. " Let us hear 
 the end of it." 
 
 George said nothing, but he was struck with the men- 
 tion of the green paper, and he redoubled his attention. 
 
 " The end is that the police hope to discover the safe. 
 Mahossier was killed in an open garden, where he was 
 either going to or coming from a ruined house, which 
 formerly belonged to the banker upon whom the robbery 
 was committed. It seems the safe held over two millions, 
 and its loss ruined the owner of it. The question is 
 what Mahossier was doing on this spot, to which he can-
 
 166 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 not have come alone, since he had been killed by the 
 blow of a stick " 
 
 " Given by a fellow of his own stamp, who will never 
 be seen again. Well, my dear fellow, if this is your 
 famous bit of news " 
 
 " They will very likely not find the murderer, but they 
 may discover the treasure." 
 
 " What treasure ? " 
 
 " Why, the safe that was stolen seven years ago. It is 
 suspected that the robbers buried it in this garden." 
 
 " Of course they may have done so, but it is a deuce of 
 a long way from the Faubourg Poissoniere to the top of 
 the Hill of Montmartre; and if they did so, I should think 
 that they would have emptied it first." 
 
 " It is supposed that they had very little time after the 
 robbery, for immediately after it had taken place they 
 were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment for other 
 crimes, so that they had to wait for their liberation before 
 they could dig it up. It has therefore been decided to 
 make a thorough search of the premises." 
 
 " Two millions are worth looking for." 
 
 " The banker would be pleased if they were found." 
 
 "No; he is dead. It appears that he committed suicide 
 when he became insolvent." 
 
 "But I suppose he left some heirs; and I hear that he 
 has left plenty of creditors, and they would be delighted 
 to get hold of the money. The search will begin to-morrow, 
 and it would be interesting to be present at it." 
 
 "So it would." 
 
 " Besides, our paper would be the first in the field, for 
 I am the only one that knows all about the matter." 
 
 " Bravo, my dear fellow. You have a week's work before 
 you at the very least, and can send in plenty of copy, for 
 they won't find the safe at the first go off. Ah ! if we could 
 only get hold of another affair like the Tropmann murder. 
 That was a magnificent piece of business; they found a 
 fresh body every eight days. We brought out drawings 
 representing the pick-axe and the shovel which the mur- 
 derer had used to dig the graves with. Our sale went 
 up ten thousand a day." 
 
 " We shan't have such luck as that. Tropmanns are 
 rare unfortunately; they only occur once in a century. 
 But I will engage to get all I can out of this business."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 157 
 
 " "Well, I rely upon you. Go to work boldly." 
 
 " Be easy on that head ; I won't miss a single perform- 
 ance, and will make the thing go. The most curious thing 
 about it is that the land belonged to a business man, who 
 gave it to our advertisement agent to sell for him." 
 
 " What, Lourdier ? " 
 
 " Just so ; if he had only known that there was a gold 
 mine underneath it, eh 1 " 
 
 " But here, George," cried Valbrec, "why, Lourdier has 
 sold the land to you ? " 
 
 " I don't know if it is the same bit of land," answered 
 George, whose feelings it would be difficult to describe. 
 
 " The land that I am speaking of, " said Saintonge, " is 
 bounded on one sideTby th'e Kue Gabrielle, and runs up 
 the hill to the Place de Tertre, near the Church of Mont- 
 martre. There is a brick building in it, that is falling to 
 pieces rapidly." 
 
 " Is that yours ? " asked Valbrec. 
 
 " I think it must be," stammered George. 
 
 " You ought to know. Hang it all, man, you didn't buy 
 it without seeing it, did you ? " 
 
 " I saw very little of it; besides, I don't know, after all, 
 whether I shall build or not. I may not even set foot in 
 it again." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! And suppose they find a treasure, you would 
 have a share in it. According to law, unless I am deceived 
 the owner has a right to a third of the sum found." 
 
 "Yes, when there is no owner for the money; but you 
 say that this is stolen property, and you may be sure that 
 a claim will be put in for it." 
 
 " Besides, you don't want it; but there it is just like 
 your luck to buy a piece of land and find a treasure 
 buried in it ! " 
 
 George did not think much of his luck; on the con- 
 trary, he considered that he had attained to the pitch of 
 misfortune in having attracted the attention of the police 
 to the house in the Rue Gabrielle, by unfortunately kill- 
 ing a rogue in self-defence, though he might have known 
 that an inquest invariably follows when a dead body is 
 found bearing traces of violence. But even had he 
 thought of this, who would have supposed that this had 
 anything to do with a robbery committed seven years 
 before ? He had felt quite secure that no one would
 
 158 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 accuse him of having murdered a criminal who he had 
 never seen before that night, and he had hoped that all 
 efforts to find the murderer would be speedily abandoned. 
 But the affair had now assumed an entirely different 
 complexion; the papers were going to take it up, and 
 would doubtless give it enormous publicity. A search 
 would doubtless reveal the scene of the hiding-place, in 
 which a very large sum still remained; a sum which he 
 had not intended to make use of, for since his last visit 
 he was sufficiently wealthy, but which he certainly did 
 not wish anyone else to appropriate. Of one thing he 
 was almost sure, and that was that it would be impossible 
 to implicate him in the old story of the bank robbery; 
 and yet he had cause for uneasiness. The man of the 
 exercise-yard at Mazas could not denounce him as having 
 taken possession of property knowing it to be stolen, for 
 he knew him neither by name or sight. But he might 
 make up his mind to confess everything, and tell how Le 
 had thrown a note, containing full information as to 
 where the treasure was, over the wall to another prisoner. 
 What had become of the robber who had signed his 
 name Pierre ? Had he been sentenced, as he expected, 
 to twenty years' penal servitude, and already shipped off 
 to New Caledonia ? Might he not manage to effect his 
 escape before embarkation ? and might he not, on reach- 
 ing Paris, be retaken at any moment in the ruined house ? 
 
 " Yes," continued the reporter, recurring to the sub- 
 ject, " we have an almost inexhaustible sensational topic, 
 for if the search proves fruitless, the police can make 
 what they call a ' rat-trap ' of the house, and the odds 
 are that Mahossier's murderer will be caught there." 
 
 " Saintonge, my boy, you are immense," cried Paul 
 Valbrec. ' " Don't let us have anything to do with the 
 Simancas matter. Occupy yourself entirely with the 
 ' Mystery of Montmartre ' a good title, eh ? " 
 
 " Excellent; and now, if you have no more need of me, 
 I will get back to the police-station," said the reporter. 
 
 George was half inclined to ask him a few questions, 
 but he did not dare do so, for fear of letting him see the 
 interest he took in the matter; but Saintonge relieved 
 him from his perplexity. 
 
 " If, sir," said the reporter, who was anxious to make 
 himself agreeable to any friend of Valbrec's, " you would
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 159 
 
 care to follow the operations of the police, I can, I think, 
 obtain permission to take you with me, as, in your posi- 
 tion as owner, you have certainly a right to be present at 
 the search on your own property." 
 
 " I should go, if I were you," exclaimed Valbrec. 
 
 " I don't say that I will not avail myself of your offer," 
 said George, " for I am anxious to know the details of 
 the robbery, which is the point from whence this strange 
 story starts, and with which I never was acquainted 
 before." 
 
 " Because you were too young. You could scarcely 
 have left school at the time. I, who am older than you, 
 recollect it, but not perfectly; but I can get you all the 
 information that you require. All I have to do is to send 
 some one to the National Library to consult the back 
 numbers of the Gazette des Ti*ibunaux for the years '77 and 
 '78. My man can take notes, and you can learn all you 
 want. He can tell you the exact date of the crime, and 
 the name of the banker who was plundered." 
 
 " As for the name," broke in Valbrec, " you have only 
 to ask Lourdier, who ought to know it, as he is the 
 representative of one of the creditors of the bankruptcy." 
 
 " I never thought of that. "When Lourdier sold me the 
 land there was no question of this strange affair. But I 
 need not ask him, since this gentleman has been good 
 enough to say that he will furnish me with all the details." 
 
 " Just as you like. "Well, good-bye, Saintonge. I shall 
 be here until five o'clock, so don't be later than that, if 
 you come back to-day." 
 
 The reporter took his leave without ever having sat 
 down, for it is the nature of his tribe to be always in a 
 hurry. George, too, was anxious to get away, for he was 
 not in the humor to carry on a gay conversation; but 
 Valbrec, who was in a mood for a gossip, did not feel 
 inclined to break off the conversation that Saintonge had 
 interrupted. 
 
 " How improbable fact is," cried he. " You came here 
 to tell me of your projects and your love affairs, then that 
 capital fellow Saintonge drops down upon us, and tells 
 us two stories, in both of which you are interested. 
 Simancas, and your piece of land. It seems as if he had 
 done it for the purpose." 
 
 " Oh !" said Cransac, endeavoring to assume an easy
 
 160 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 air, " I am not thinking now of that blackguard of a 
 Spaniard; and as for the land I was fool enough to buy, 
 I shall see it again as little as possible, for I don't care 
 about living in a spot where people are knocked on the 
 head." 
 
 " You do not wish to dwell upon the ' theatre of the 
 tragedy,' as the Public Prosecutor would term it; the 
 more so as you are going to set up house with your new 
 friend, for it might prevent your sleeping. By-the-way, 
 where have you built your temporary nest ?" 
 
 " At my own place." 
 
 " "What, have you taken her to the Grand Hotel ?" 
 
 "No; I have gone back to my old rooms in the Rue 
 Frochot. But she does not live there entire!}-; she has 
 kept the apartments she had before, and she goes there 
 every day; but, apart from that, we are almost always 
 together." 
 
 "Ah; that is the usual commencement; but I am a little 
 surprised, for I should have thought that Juliet's con- 
 duct to you would have given you a distaste for women." 
 
 " Of women of her stamp, certainly, and I have a per- 
 fect horror of them; but allow me to remind you of what 
 you said just before the reporter came in and interrupted 
 us, and which you had said before when you left me in 
 the Boulevard de Clichy, upon the day I had been dis- 
 charged from Mazas, and had been overwhelmed with 
 insults and contempt the whole day. Well, the public 
 affront that that girl had put on me had determined me 
 to blow out my brains." 
 
 " Happily you did not carry out this fine idea." 
 
 " It was you that made me relinquish it by saying: ' Live 
 for some woman; all are not Juliet Taupiers, and you 
 will come across one deserving of your love.' I quote your 
 own words to you." 
 
 "I don't deny them; and, since you have found your 
 dream, all is for the best, for I believe in true love, as the 
 only thing to enable a man to sail safely on in the voyage 
 of life. Shall I be indiscreet if I ask you how and where 
 you met the lady ?" 
 
 "It was a chance meeting," answered George, evas- 
 ively. 
 
 " Doubtless the incidents that decide our lives are always 
 the offspring of chance. My lif e would have been entirely
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 161 
 
 different if at a certain hour of the day I had passed 
 through such and such a street, but yet I do not regret 
 having carried out my destiny. My principle is always 
 to bow to circumstances, and therefore I am not surprised 
 at a chance meeting, and prophesy that good will come 
 of it. All I now ask is to be introduced to this charming 
 personage. You promised me that you would do so, but 
 if you regret having done so, I shall not insist on it" 
 
 " I don't regret it at all." 
 
 " Then when will you introduce me ? " 
 
 As soon as we shall be regularly installed; and then 
 you will always find a place laid for you at our table." 
 
 "Very good; and pray believe that I shall often take 
 advantage of it at least, if the lady does not object." 
 
 " What an absurd idea !" 
 
 "My good fellow my experience has shown me that 
 women do not like their lover's former friends, for they 
 distrust, and often with reason, the advice they give 
 them." 
 
 " She knows that you will give me nothing but good 
 counsel, and that nothing could separate me from her. 
 You may therefore be sure that she would receive you as 
 she would my brother, if I had one." 
 
 " Even when she knew that I have dissuaded you from 
 becoming a journalist, which you tell me is her latest 
 whim ?" 
 
 " And a very reasonable one. She wanted me to have 
 some occupation, but I can easily find other means of 
 employing my time; and, besides, Cecile will see the 
 validity of the objections you urge." 
 
 "Ah! her name is Cecile is it? a very pretty name. 
 Cecelia is the patron saint of musicians; is your friend 
 one ? " 
 
 " Really, I don't know. All I can tell you is that 
 I saw no piano in her rooms; perhaps because she had no 
 time to play." 
 
 ""Well, don't buy her one," said Valbrec. "Of all 
 sounds, music is the most expensive. But let us talk 
 seriously. It is settled, then, that we shall see each other 
 constantly when you are definitely installed, but in the 
 meantime you must give me an opportunity of making 
 Mile. Cecile's acquaintance. Why don't you bring her to
 
 162 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 dine with me at a restaurant one of these days ? Not 
 to-night, for I am going to the theatre." 
 
 "And so are we." 
 
 "Well, any other night; you will always find me here 
 from five to seven. And now, my dear fellow, I have an 
 article to write." 
 
 George rose from his seat. " But deuce take me if I know 
 on what subject," resumed Valbrec. "Stay; I have itl 
 suppose I fall on the police, who never by any chance 
 discover the authors of a crime ?" 
 
 " That is not a very new business." 
 
 " About the police, who, after a lapse of seven years, 
 begin to look for the robbers of two millions of money !" 
 
 " I hope you won't refer to that unpleasant affair at 
 Montmartre." 
 
 " What do you take me for ? In the first place, I never 
 speak of ray friends in the paper; and, besides, I know 
 how unpleasant you would find it to have public atten- 
 tion attracted to }-ou. The error which led to your com- 
 mittal to Mazas has been acknowledged, but an anony- 
 mous denunciation would lead to inquiries as to your 
 accession to wealth, and I suppose you don't care about 
 having to make a public explanation. By-the-way, you 
 have not been questioned yet, have you ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And I do not believe that you will be, although all those 
 who know you are aware that you have become a million- 
 aire; besides, even if you were questioned, it would be the 
 easiest thing in the world for you to explain matters. 
 But, for all that, it would be better that you should 
 not be troubled; and now, my dear George, I won't 
 keep you any longer. I have just time to write my 
 article, and I don't want to keep them waiting for my 
 copy." 
 
 George shook his friend's hand warmly, and left the 
 office, glad enough to find himself alone, after a visit so 
 full of unexpected incident, which had roused feelings 
 within him which he was compelled to conceal. 
 
 When he came to see Valbrec, to ask for some employ- 
 ment on the paper, he had not expected to hear two 
 matters in both of which he was much interested, dis- 
 cussed, Cecile's adventure was most satisfactorily cleared 
 up, but he foresaw that some trouble might result from
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 163 
 
 his last nocturnal visit to Montmartre, and he almost 
 regretted that he had consented to be present at the 
 search that the police "were about to institute on the 
 morrow; but, on the other hand, curiosity urged on him 
 to assist at the operations. He knew that nothing would 
 be found in the garden, but the ruin would most cer- 
 tainly be searched; the chances were that the hiding- 
 place would be found, and he was anxious to be there 
 to see if the piles of gold did not conceal a decaying 
 body, the odor of which he fancied he had perceived on 
 his first visit. But yet he could not disguise the fact 
 that his presence would draw upon him the attention of 
 the police and he sought in vain to persuade himself that 
 he could avoid this danger by begging M. Saintonge to 
 present him as a mere reporter for the press, and not as the 
 actual owner of the property. In this difficulty he could 
 not consult Cecile, who upon any other matter would 
 doubtless have given him excellent advice; but she 
 knew nothing of his visits to Montmartre the night after 
 he had saved her life. She did not even know that he 
 had bought the property, which she must have known 
 long before she had met him, as she had come there from 
 Belleville to put an end to her life; and as he had made 
 up his mind not to build there, he resolved that he would 
 never tell her, for he wished that she should remain in 
 ignorance of the strange adventure which had not only en- 
 riched him, but thrown him into a series of the most cruel 
 perplexities. He saw only too plainly that he ran the 
 chance of being accused of having had a hand in a rob- 
 bery, and of having murdered one who, robber as he was, 
 was still a man. As all this turmoil of thought seethed 
 and bubbled in his brain the idea again came to him that 
 if luck changed he could still shoot himself, as he had 
 determined to do on the day he was discharged from the 
 prison of Mazas. He would now, perhaps, regret life the 
 less, because he had experienced the supreme happiness 
 of living, and being beloved; for before his committal to 
 prison he had only known a mere burlesque of love. All 
 that he could do now was to keep up appearances before 
 Cecile, who knew nothing of what was going on. He 
 would have preferred not taking her to the theatre that 
 evening, for he was not in the vein to amuse himself 
 with the magnificent scenery, or the puns and jokes
 
 164 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 of a burlesque; but lie had not the courage to deprive 
 Cecile of a pleasure which she so ardently looked for- 
 ward to. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIL 
 
 "AND SIANDEB WITH HEE VENOMED TONGTJI." 
 
 CRANSAC'S interview with Valbrec had been a long one, 
 and it was now time for him to return to the Rue Frochot, 
 where Cecile was to meet him. Night had closed in, and 
 the lamps were lighted as George came out on the boule- 
 vard. It was that hour of the evening when the loungers 
 crowd the cafes, and the young ladies on the prowl sally 
 forth, trusting for lucky meetings, or even in quest of a 
 mere invitation to dinner, for after all that is better than 
 returning home hungry. They can be seen walking 
 along the pavement, casting smiles around them upon 
 the young gentlemen sipping their absinthe, or upon the 
 older ones, taking a brisk walk to promote a failing 
 appetite. And yet the poor girls have no cause for 
 smiles and laughter, for if they return unsuccessful from 
 their man-hunt they will have nothing to eat, and will be 
 beaten into the bargain, for Alphonse is sitting at home 
 waiting for money, and the bully's temper is not of the 
 sweetest when he does not get it. There are women 
 about who could live, and live well too, without sweeping 
 the muddy streets with their skirts, and who yet will not 
 disdain to profit by what they term an opportunity. 
 These do not stare into the faces of the passer by, but 
 cast down their eyes when a man looks at them. A 
 young fellow from college would be deceived, and a man 
 from the country would apologize to them ; but, for all 
 that, they take care to turn down the first street they 
 come to, and slacken their pace, so that the man "whose 
 notice they have attracted may come up with them, away 
 from the glare and din of the boulevards. They make a 
 halt before the shops, especially before those of the 
 jewelers, as it is convenient to enter into conversation 
 there without people noticing them too much; and then 
 who can tell? they may, perhaps, find some generous
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 165 
 
 being who may open the acquaintance by the present of a 
 ring or a bracelet. 
 
 George, however, was well acquainted with all the 
 manoeuvres of this class, and did not think their pro- 
 ceedings worth noticing. He walked on without looking 
 at anyone, and was about to turn down the Rue Lafitte, 
 when he involuntary remarked a woman, with a profusion 
 of yellow hair, walking in front of him, who had turned 
 round to look at him three or four times, without his 
 being able to see her face, which was thickly veiled. As 
 this was one of the usual performances of these clandest- 
 ine wanderers, it would not have attracted his attention; 
 but the figure of the woman, and the color of her dyed 
 hair, recalled to his memory Juliet Taupier. 
 
 He could not, however, believe that it was she. A 
 month back she had been living in good style in a pretty 
 little house in the Rue Jouffroy, and she could hardly 
 have fallen so low in so short a space. He turned the 
 corner of the Maison Doree, without occupying himself 
 any further with this " lady of the night," who had done 
 the same. She did not go very far, for after passing a 
 tobacconist's some five doors down, she turned sharply 
 round, and, raising her veil, stood still in the middle of 
 the pavement, so as to bar his way. Cransac was about 
 to step into the road to avoid her, when she accosted 
 him. " Good evening, my little George," said she, 
 softly. 
 
 Cransac lifted his eyes to her face, and recognized 
 Juliet Taupier. " You wretched woman ! " exclaimed he; 
 " how dare you speak to me ? " 
 
 " Are you still angry with me ? " asked she, endeavor- 
 ing to take his arm. 
 
 He thrust her from him so roughly that she staggered 
 back against the street door hard by. In an instant, he 
 regretted having done so, and expected to hear a volley of 
 shrieks, which would have roused the neighborhood; 
 but Juliet contented herself with moaning out: "Oh, my 
 dear George, do not beat me ! I was wrong to say all those 
 wicked things that I did about you in the booth at the fair 
 of Montmartre; but what shall I say? I was so angry 
 because I had been worried by the police on your account. 
 I have heard since that it was not your fault, and now I 
 humbly ask pardon ! "
 
 166 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " This is too much," muttered George, between his teeth. 
 
 " Don't be angry, I entreat you, but listen to me. If 
 you only knew how unhappy I have been since I lost you. I 
 I have done nothing but cry. I should like to tell you all that 
 I have suffered, but I cannot here in the street; take me 
 somewhere to dinner." Then, as George remained silent, 
 utterly overwhelmed at her impudence, she continued, in 
 a whining tone of voice : " Oh ! I have been so unlucky. 
 My furniture has been seized, and my house sold; but 
 you will not desert me who used to be so nice to you in 
 those days when you were not rolling in gold as you are 
 now ! " 
 
 Now George began to understand how matters stood. 
 The vile woman had heard of his good fortune, and was au- 
 dacious enough to endeavor to gain him over once more. A 
 cold feeling of anger came over him an anger that left 
 him all his judgment to treat her as she deserved. " And 
 so," said he harshly, " you have become a mere street 
 walker ? " 
 
 Juliet was about to deny it, but he cut her short. 
 "What is the good of lying; 1 saw you just now in the 
 boulevard ! " 
 
 " Well, and suppose I am," returned she, " is that a 
 reason for you to look down upon me ? There are ups 
 and downs in a woman's life. Those who are up in the 
 stirrups one day may have to seek their bread in the 
 streets the next: and, instead of abusing me, you ought 
 to pity me." 
 
 " I might pity another woman of your class, or a dog, 
 but you I hate and despise. If I saw you dying of hunger 
 in the gutter, I would not stretch out a hand to help you." 
 
 " Ho, ho ! " said Juliet, in quite another tone of voice. 
 " You have grown infernally insolent since you have got 
 a little money; fifteen days ago you were humble enough. 
 What did I do, after all, when you were with me ? I was 
 unfaithful to you, I suppose you will say. Well, did you 
 expect, for the few francs you gave me, that I was to be 
 yours entirely ? " 
 
 " What have you done ! " exclaimed George, looking 
 at her in a manner that "would have made anyone with the 
 slightest feeling of shame sink into the ground. " Do 
 you think that I am going to reproach you for having left 
 me for that scoundrel whom I struck across the face ?
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 167 
 
 Why, you are admirably suited for each other; but I will 
 tell you what you have done " 
 
 "Go on, then; I am anxious to hear." 
 
 " You sold and handed over to Simancas the woman I 
 loved." 
 
 " What you know that, do you ? " sneered the woman, 
 who, now that she had no chance of getting hold of 
 George again, did not care to conciliate him. " Pray, 
 how did you know that ? " 
 
 " I saw the letter that you wrote to draw a young girl 
 into a trap." 
 
 " A young girl, indeed." 
 
 " Don't say a word against her, or I will twist your 
 neck." 
 
 Juliet was frightened, although the street was not by 
 any means deserted, for she knew that George was able 
 to strangle her before she could utter a cry. " Yes," contin- 
 ued George, coming up close to her, "you sold her; and 
 it was your pitiful hound of a lover who pointed her out 
 to you. I will settle my account with him the first time I 
 meet him; but as for you, your destination is Saint Lazare, 
 the prison for abandoned women." 
 
 " Just you try and put me there, my good fellow 1 " 
 
 " You will go fast enough without my sending you there, 
 and I will not degrade myself by denouncing you ; only 
 remember this, that if you act in any way against my wife, 
 for my wife she shall be soon " 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! And so you have made it up with her 
 again, and are going to marry her into the bargain ! What, 
 after her little adventure with the marquis ! Well, there 
 is not an ounce of jealousy about you, and you have no 
 hesitation in taking up the leavings of a generous gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " What is that you dare to insinuate ? " 
 
 " I say that Simancas could tell you a good deal about 
 your florist. She went to his house, and once there well, 
 the marquis is not a man to let anything stand between 
 him and his whims ; and, prude as she may have been, it 
 was the same with her as with the rest of them." 
 "You lie!" 
 
 " Oh, I dare say she told you quite a different story. 
 Perhaps that she set fire to the house to escape from the 
 clutches of the marquis."
 
 168 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 This blow struck home, and Juliet had shovm her sense 
 in speaking of the conflagration. That there had been one 
 was certain, but had Cecile lighted it in her endeavor to 
 preserve her honor ? 
 
 "Ah, ha ! " sneered Juliet, "I see it all. She told you 
 that she had risked being burnt in defence of her virtue. 
 Well, I was not there myself, but Simancas's housekeeper 
 told me exactly what really happenend to our fine friend 
 was shut up with Simancas for an hour. I can't say what 
 took place. She may have scratched him for all I know; 
 he likes that sort of thing. But of one thing you may be 
 sure : he attained his end. The place was set on fire a little 
 too late, my friend, and she was very foolish to do it, for 
 it has made Simancas very angry. He was ready to do a lot 
 for her, and now he never wishes to see her face again. 
 That is all. When you like you can go and order a wreath 
 of orange blossoms, if your heart urges you to do so; but 
 remember what I have told you, and remember later on 
 that you may be sorry for the act of folly you say you are 
 going to commit" 
 
 George was tortured with suspicions, but he would not 
 for a moment discuss the question with the vile woman 
 who stood before him, nor would he deny the assertions 
 that he did not desire to believe. He could, however, now 
 that he had the chance, tell Juliet plainly the opinion he 
 had of her. "Be silent," cried he; "you are a viper that 
 I ought to crush beneath my feet." 
 
 " Not here, my good fellow," sneered Juliet; "they would 
 lock you up if you tried to do so. Besides, you are wrong 
 to be angry, for all that I have told you is for your good; 
 and you are wrong, too, to bear malice, because I sent the 
 girl to the Hue Pergolese to make some money, for I did 
 not then know that you had anything to do with her." 
 
 " You are lying again." 
 
 " No, I am not. It was not written on her face that she 
 belonged to you. And besides, I didn't know her; it was 
 Arthur who knew her." 
 
 "Yes, the cowardly scoundrel that I thrashed." 
 
 " Who has taken your place with me and preceded, 
 you in the heart of your fair florist. I suppose you know 
 that, eh ? " 
 
 " I know that he is a most degraded blackguard; and
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 169 
 
 he lives with you, tell him from me that when I 
 meet him I will beat him to a jelly." 
 
 " You are angry with him because he was your woman's 
 first lover. You ought to be more of a philosopher than 
 that. Why, if he had not been, some other would." 
 
 Burning with rage George raised his hand to strike 
 her to the ground for her insolence, but a sudden scru- 
 ple restrained him. Seeing this, Juliet attacked him 
 again. " None of that, my good man," cried she, raising 
 her voice so that the passers-by might hear her. " You 
 are not General the Marquis of Simancas, nor am I a little 
 workgirl from Belleville, so don't think that I am going 
 to stand and be beaten. If you lay a finger on me I'll 
 call the police, and then we shall see if you have the 
 right to thrash me, not counting that if the police poke 
 their noses into your affairs again you may not find it 
 pleasant. I should like to know where you got your 
 money from, and what you would say to a magistrate if 
 he questioned you about it; and you may be sure you 
 will be questioned, for your friend Valbrec goes about 
 everywhere saying that you have had a bequest left you. 
 A bequest left to you, indeed ! Why, you haven't a soul 
 belonging to you on this earth, for you are only some- 
 body's bastard. Where have you stolen your money 
 from '? Perhaps you picked up a packet of bank notes in 
 a cab ? " 
 
 George ground his teeth in anger. 
 
 " That goes home, does it ? " cried Juliet. " All the 
 worse for you. You should not have stood out as you 
 did. I only wanted to be on your side, because I am a 
 good sort of a girl after all, and we might have helped 
 each other. For the moment I am in a hole, but I shall 
 get out of it. If you had chosen peace you would have 
 seen what the help of a woman like me was worth, but you 
 preferred war. Good, you shall have it i " and with this 
 threatening conclusion Juliet emerged from the doorway 
 where she had been standing at the commencement of 
 this stormy interview, and hurried away to the boulevard. 
 George made no effort to follow her, but proceeded on 
 his way to the Rue Frochot, overwhelmed by this flood 
 of calumny and insult, with his heart deeply wounded, 
 and his feelings painfully lacerated. He had left his 
 house full of joy, in order to bring back good news from
 
 170 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 Valbrec's office, and he had met with nothing but decep- 
 tion, humiliation, and increased anxiety. He certainly 
 put no faith in the perfidious statements and plain-spoken 
 accusations of Juliet, but he could not conceal from him- 
 self that the abandoned woman could do a great deal of 
 harm 'both to Cecile and himself; especially to him, for 
 she would not hesitate to spread about all sorts of mali- 
 cious reports regarding the origin of his fortune, which 
 might be productive of serious embarrassment to him. 
 He had never for a moment had a shadow of doubt 
 regarding the truth of the story that Cecile had told 
 him, and the poor girl, who was now dressing to accom- 
 pany him to the theatre, could not for a moment guess 
 that a vile creature had stopped her lover in the Rue 
 Lafitte, and accused her of having basely deceived him. 
 He resolved not to say a word to her about his unfortu- 
 nate meeting with Juliet; but the harm was done, and 
 the poisoned dart which the vile woman had cast at him 
 rankled in the festering wound. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 A FIRST NIGHT. 
 
 DWELLERS in foreign lands can hardly realize the sensation 
 that a first representation in a Parisian theatre excites. 
 In Italy and Germany, where music is so highly thought 
 of, a new opera will collect together an ' appreciative, 
 sympathetic audience. But in Paris, whether it is a 
 masterpiece or a mere bit of foolery, a lyric drama or 
 burlesque, or a simple farce, a first night is always an 
 event: not for the worthy citizens, nor yet for the work- 
 ing classes, who do not visit the theatre through vanity, 
 but for that section which styles itself Parisian society, 
 in which the idle and vicious are in the majority. Some 
 come because others are going, as sheep follow their bell- 
 wether, and others in the hopes of their names appearing 
 in the papers next day. It matters little to them whether
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 171 
 
 the piece be interesting or the reverse; indeed, they sel- 
 dom listen to it. It is quite sufficient for them to be seen, 
 and to attain this object they will lavish their gold to 
 procure places. Some of them who have been unable to 
 obtain seats have been known to parade in front of the 
 theatre during the waits between the acts, in evening 
 costume, so that it may appear that they have been pres- 
 ent. They believe that it would be a slur on their repu- 
 tation if they were not present at a dramatic solemnity 
 of this kind, and will perform incredible acts of meanness 
 to attain their object. It must be understood, however, 
 that this only applies to some theatres, as others are cer- 
 tainly unknown to the fine gentlemen of society. The 
 Arnbigu was never " the thing," and the Porte Saint 
 Martin was not so until melodramas by popular authors 
 began to be played there. This evening this was not 
 the case, for a grand spectacular drama was to be played 
 by some unknown writers, but marvels were reported of 
 the scenery and the stage effects. The fashionable world 
 were to be there in great numbers, and their humble fol- 
 lowers and admirers would not allow so favorable an 
 opportunity of mixing with them to slip. There was 
 therefore a crowd, and a very fashionable crowd, too, at the 
 theatre. Fashionable evening dress in the stalls, and 
 private boxes full of diamonds which glittered on the 
 whitest of shoulders; nothing, indeed, was wanting. 
 
 George and Cecile did not arrive until after the first 
 act was over. They had had a protracted dinner, though 
 not a very merry one, at the Cafe Anglais, albeit Cecile 
 was enchanted at enjoying a new pleasure with the man 
 she loved, for she had never been present at a first rep- 
 resentation. George had taken good care not to say a 
 word regarding the incidents which had vexed him so much 
 in the course of the day; but his mind continually wandered 
 back to them, and he could not force himself to appear 
 joyous and merry during the dinner. Even the cham- 
 pagne had no effect on him, and Cecile was a little 
 uneasy at his inoroseness, but she did not let him see it, 
 and trusted to the performance to drive it away. Cecile 
 wore no jewelry. George had not yet thought of giv- 
 ing her any, and, had he offered to do so, she would have 
 most probably refused it; but she was dressed in perfect 
 taste, and her toilet enhanced the charms of her face and
 
 172 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 figure. There was not a woman in the theatre who could 
 be compared to her. When, therefore, they drew aside 
 the screens, after taking their seat in the stage-box, there 
 was a sudden sensation amongst the occupants of the 
 stalls. Twenty opera glasses were turned in her direc- 
 tion, for an unknown beauty is a grand treat to the fre- 
 quenters of first nights at the theatre, who are accus- 
 tomed to see the same female faces over and over again. 
 Not one of them could remember ever having met the 
 handsome brunette before, but some of the men con- 
 nected with the Stock Exchange recognized the gentle- 
 man who escorted her; and Cransac could see some of 
 them whispering to each other remarks which he felt 
 sure had reference to him. His appearance puzzled 
 those who knew of the trouble he had been in, and 
 scandal and gossip flew about freely. 
 
 Cransac might have foreseen that all this was certain 
 to happen, but he was not the less amazed by finding so 
 many eyes fixed upon him, and almost regretted that he 
 had come. 
 
 Cecile guessed his thoughts. " Shall we go away ? " 
 asked she suddenly. 
 
 "What, and deprive you of your night's pleasure, 
 because a lot of fools are staring at us! Certainly 
 not," answered George, deeply moved at this unsolicited 
 offer on her part. Very few women would have con- 
 sented to sacrifice their evening's amusement to gratify 
 an unspoken desire, only to be read in their lover's 
 eyes. 
 
 "It seems that they are looking at me," said she, with 
 a smile. "Well, they shall have their trouble for 
 nothing," she continued, " for I will turn my back on 
 them." 
 
 She had, of course, the best seat in the box that is to 
 say, the one most remote from the stage and she took 
 such advantage of her position, and used her fan with 
 such discretion, that she became almost invisible to the 
 audience. 
 
 Cransac still remained the mark for the opera-glasses 
 of a few of the more obstinate gazers, but he retaliated 
 by directing upon them the barrels of an excellent pair 
 of binoculars which he had brought with him, which 
 ended at last in putting a stop to their rudeness.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 173 
 
 When he had achieved this victory he began in his 
 turn to inspect the audience, and found familiar faces 
 in all parts of the house. In the box facing him was 
 Lourdier with his wife and daughters. In the dress 
 circle was the theatrical critic of the paper to which Yal- 
 brec belonged; and in the first row of the stalls was Val- 
 brec himself in full evening costume, waiving friendly 
 greetings to his brother journalists in the different parts 
 of the house, and occasionally despatching a gracious 
 smile in the direction of some lady of his acquaintance. 
 Cransac was delighted to see him, and thought that this 
 would be an excellent opportunity to introduce him to 
 Cecile, according to his promise. 
 
 " There is Paul," said he, pointing him out to Cecile; 
 " shall I go and bring him here ? " 
 
 "Why should you disturb him?" murmured Cecile, 
 who would have much sooner remained alone with her 
 lover. 
 
 " Because he would be far more comfortable with us 
 than with all those swells in the stalls. If he had seen 
 us, I think that he would have been round before, for he 
 is most anxious to make your acquaintance. Indeed, he 
 asked me to bring him home as soon as we were properly 
 settled down." 
 
 " As long as he does not find me too ugly," said Cecile, 
 softly. 
 
 "Nonsense, he loves pretty women too well not to 
 know one when he sees her." 
 
 " Or too foolish." 
 
 " He is too clever himself not to see at once that you 
 have plenty of talent, so let me introduce you to him this 
 evening." 
 
 " You know that I will do all you wish," returned Cecile 
 extending her hand to him, which he kissed under cover 
 of the sheltering screen. 
 
 " Then I will go," said he. " But no, it is useless; his 
 stall is empty, and he is coming here." 
 
 Valbrec had at length noticed his friend and, having 
 waved his hand to show his delight at the recognition, 
 began to perform that unpleasant operation of gliding 
 between unwilling paii^| of knees and the backs of the 
 stalls. In a few moments Cransac, who had opened the 
 door of the box, introduced him to Cecile in these words:
 
 17<i THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " This is Paul, my dear; Paul, my best friend, of whom 
 I have so often spoken to you." 
 
 " Pray, be my friend too," said Cecile, gracefully. 
 
 " Faith, I ask for nothing better," returned Valbrec, 
 bluntly. " I nerer saw you before, rny dear madam, but 
 I feel sure that we are destined to meet very often, and I 
 am perfectly certain that we shall get on well together. 
 You don't believe me. Well, then, listen to my creed. 
 Not only will I do all I can to concentrate all George's 
 love on you, but if he ever thinks of leaving you, I will 
 quarrel with him at once." 
 
 " What compliments 1 " answered Cecile, merrily. " But 
 take care, sir, I always distrust those who make use of 
 them." 
 
 " As a rule, you are right," replied Valbrec; " but I 
 always say what I think. Ask George, if under any cir- 
 cumstances, I ever hid my sentiments from him, and he 
 will tell you that it is the first time that I have ever con- 
 gratulated him on the object of his love." 
 
 Cecile understood the allusion to Juliet Taupier, and 
 the rough frankness of the journalist took her fancy at 
 once. " I thank you for your good opinion," replied she, 
 " and I hope that when you know me better you will 
 have no cause to change it, and that you will still pre- 
 serve a little esteem for me." 
 
 " Oh ! esteem is far too cold a word. I openly offer 
 you my friendship, and I beg you to believe that I dc 
 not abuse the ties of friendship, especially with ladies." 
 
 " What are you two arguing about ? " asked George, 
 whose good humor had been entirely restored by th 
 arrival of his friend. " You are to be good friends, and 
 so there the matter is settled. And now tell us all the 
 news of the day, for you always have them cut and dried 
 and first, about this piece, ' The Martyr.' What on eartl 
 is it all about ? I have read the bill, but it does not tel 
 me much." 
 
 " I don't know any more than you, for I was not at tht 
 dress rehearsal. I think that it is only a tag upon whicl 
 to hang scenic decoration. It commences with the crea- 
 tion of the world, and ends with the taking of the Bastile 
 The first act takes place in Eden, and I saw there an Eve 
 with a magnificent pair of legs, nbut as foolish as a goose 
 for she could't say two words without making a mistake
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 175 
 
 After that there is the amphitheatre at Rome, and then 
 we glide at once into the Middle Ages, and come to the 
 persecution of the Albigenses, and the act after that is 
 the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. It ought to have 
 been called the history of religious persecution from the 
 earliest times, but it appears that in the end the perse- 
 cuted have their revenge." 
 
 "The deuce," said Cransac; "it doesn't seem to me as 
 if it would be very lively." 
 
 "I am afraid so, too; and I am certain that, in spite 
 of the manner in which it has been put on the stage, the 
 management wouldn't rake in a sou if it were not for a 
 ' draw ' that will bring all Paris here." 
 
 " What do you mean by a ' draw ' ? " asked Cecile, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " In theatrical slang, it means a sensational scene, dear 
 niadain," answered the journalist; "and George knows 
 what the draw is this evening." 
 
 George made a sign in the negative, and Valbrec was 
 rather surprised, but presumed that he did not wish him 
 to speak of the Lion Queen before Cecile; for the great 
 draw of the Porte Saint Martin this evening was to be 
 Cornelian, who, in very scanty attire, was to perform 
 with her lions in the scene of the Roman amphitheatre, 
 und Valbrec could not believe that George was ignorant 
 of this fact, as her approaching appearance at the theatre 
 had been spoken of at the dinner at Brebant's. A man 
 must have a very bad memory to forget such informa- 
 tion, but the fact is that truth is always stranger than 
 fiction. George did not recollect a word about it; and 
 even the name of Cornelian, printed at the bottom of the 
 bill in large letters, had not excited his attention. 
 
 " Well," said Valbrec, " if you don't know the most 
 exciting episode in the piece, I shan't tell you what it is, 
 but let you have the pleasure of a surprise." 
 
 " Yes, I beg that you will do so," cried Cecile, " I am 
 not yet tired of the emotions that a theatrical perform- 
 ance gives rise to, and do not wish to lose one of them. 
 If you tell me all about it beforehand, I shall miss half 
 my pleasure, and I want to enjoy a real shiver, for I 
 suppose the scene is a terrible one." 
 
 " Oh, most terrible if* " 
 
 " Xot another word, please. I don't want to know
 
 176 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 anything. You will think me very foolish, but it is so 
 long since I have been to the theatre; and then I am a 
 Parisian by birth, and that means that I have adored the 
 theatre from my earliest youth. When I was a little 
 thing my dream was to have been an actress." 
 
 " Had you carried out your desire, you would have had 
 a tremendous success!" 
 
 " I don't think so. To be a good actress you must have 
 plenty of self-possession, and that is a quality that I am 
 entirely lacking in. Besides, the wish passed away very 
 quickly. When I grew older, my dream was to know 
 the actresses, and to see them near." 
 
 " That is a wish I can gratify this evening. I have my 
 entree behind. The manager is my friend, and if you 
 have still the desire to go behind the scenes, I can take 
 you there." 
 
 ' Oh ! I should like it immensely." 
 "I will pilot you through in safety. George has no 
 more idea of the world behind the scenes than you have, 
 and if I did not act as a guide to both of you, you might 
 fall down some trap, or get a piece of scenery on your 
 head; but with me you will have nothing to fear." 
 
 " You will come, will you not ?" asked Cecile of George 
 who had made no reply to the proposal. 
 
 "Certainly, if you wish, only I think that you will 
 regret having put yourself out," returned he. " It is not 
 so strange a place as you imagine pulleys, ropes, rough 
 stage carpenters and dirty supers." 
 
 " We won't stay long; but if you do not wish to go, I 
 will give up the idea at once." 
 
 "Oh, no. I won't stand in your way; and since Paul 
 guarantees us against all accidents 
 
 " There, then, that is all settled," cried Cecile, joyously. 
 "Thanks, my dear George. You cannot imagine the 
 pleasure you have given me. At last, I shall meet the 
 actresses face to face." 
 
 At this point, Valbrec was on the point of mentioning 
 Cornelian, but he thought that George might think it bad 
 taste on his part to mention her name. He therefore 
 had no scruple in taking his two friends behind the scenes, 
 where Cornelian would very likely not notice them, taken 
 up as she was by her part. 
 
 Suddenly Cecile began to examine the curtain with a
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 177 
 
 great deal of attention, and certainly she was not engaged 
 in reading the various advertisements with which it was 
 covered. At one of the small round apertures pierced in 
 the curtain for the convenience of those on the stage who 
 wished to look for any one in the body of the house, was 
 an eye, a dark flashing eye, which was obstinately fixed 
 upon the stage box. Who was it watching? Was it 
 the eye of some young lady friend of the journalist, who 
 was well known to many of the members of the chorus ? 
 At any rate, Valbrec paid no attention to it, being just 
 then engaged in watching one of the ladies of the demi- 
 monde, who had just entered the upper boxes with a 
 great deal of noise. But the eye never moved from the 
 object upon which it was fixed, and Cecile began to 
 fancy that that object was George. She asked herself 
 why that flashing eye was so steadily watching her lover. 
 Had he made a conquest of one of the actresses ? for he 
 was good looking enough to have done so. Whatever 
 might be the case, he did not reply to it, nor indeed seem 
 to notice it. A feeling of uneasiness came over her, and 
 at last she was compelled to draw Valbrec's attention to 
 the pertinacious gaze. 
 
 " Has that eye been gazing for so long a time at you, 
 M. Valbrec ? " said she. 
 
 " What eye ? " asked he, turning his head towards the 
 curtain. "Ah, I see the black diamond shining through 
 a hole in the curtain. Why, it must belong to one of the 
 vestals, for in the coming act you will see the vestal vir- 
 gins seated on the benches of the Roman amphitheatre, 
 and I have been told that they have been selected for 
 their good looks but I don't know any of those young 
 ladies, so I expect that this one is trying to mash one of 
 the orchestra." 
 
 " No, no; she is looking at our box." 
 
 " Perhaps it is because she squints." 
 
 This reply made Cecile laugh though she was only half 
 reassured. At that moment the eye disappeared. 
 
 "There," said Valbrec, "the vestal has fled. The 
 musician did not return her loving gaze, and she is weary 
 of making eyes at him." 
 
 Cecile felt more satisfied now, and reproached herself 
 with having suspected George, who was standing up and 
 gazing round to show those who had stared at him that
 
 178 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 he did not fear them at all. Yalbrec began to criticise 
 the audience, telling Cecile their names, and keeping up 
 a running commentary upon each of them. "Ah," said 
 he, " there is the little Countess of Benserade, about 
 whom and the Italian tenor there was so much talk. The 
 box next to her is occupied by the old Countess of Ba- 
 rancos, who is in love with her coachman. Why, there 
 is Fanny Carrelet with a Brazilian all over diamonds. 
 It would seem that she has left the baron, then." 
 
 " Why, you know everybody," said Cecile, in profound 
 surprise. 
 
 " That is my business," said the journalist, calmly; 
 " but the more I see of them the more I dislike them. All 
 these beautiful ladies and handsome men disgust me. 
 Ah, if I might only say what I like about them in my 
 paper ! But I must give in to my subscribers, and if I may 
 chaff them a little, it is all that I am permitted to do." 
 
 " Well, you exercise that privilege pretty freely," 
 remarked George. 
 
 "I do; but I of ten get hauled over the coals for it. 
 Why, you yourself persuaded me to hold my tongue 
 about that vile foreigner's conduct. I did as you asked 
 me, and I was wrong. I ought to have denounced, or 
 let Saintonge denounce, this satyr from across the sea, 
 who attempts to corrupt our wives and daughters." 
 Cecile shuddered; she had a presentiment that this was a 
 reference to her adventure in the Eue Pergolese. " W T e 
 might have been fined smartly, but I should have done 
 my duty, w-hereas now the villain, encouraged by the 
 impunity with which he can act, will recommence his 
 infamies again." 
 
 "Of whom are you speaking?" asked Cecile, much 
 excited. 
 
 " Why, of that elderly dandy, stuck up there in front of 
 us in one of the boxes on the grand tier. He has just 
 made his entrance, and is looking round for a fresh flower 
 that is for sale. He looks like an ogre on the scent of 
 human flesh." 
 
 George and Cecile raised their eyes at the same instant, 
 and recognized Simancas. He had not yet caught sight 
 of them, but he would not be long before he did so, for 
 he was sweeping the whole house with his glass. 
 
 George was pale with rage, and for a moment forgot
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 179 
 
 the wise resolution that he had made to have nothing fur- 
 ther to do with the villian. It appeared as if Simaucas 
 had come there on purpose to insult them, as if the odious 
 voluptuary could have known that Cecile, who had so 
 miraculously escaped from his clutches, would have been 
 present with Cransac at the first representation of " The 
 Martyr." Without saying a word, George was about to 
 leave the box with the intention of striking the marquis 
 before the whole audience; a mad project, which he had 
 taken care not to impart to Valbrec. Cecile, still paler 
 than her lover, only wished to quit the place so that she 
 might no longer see the man who had so grossly insulted 
 her, but he did not know what motive to assign for so 
 sudden a departure. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with you two ? " asked Val- 
 brec. "You don't seem able to sit quiet. Are you afraid 
 of that wretched old foreigner ? " 
 
 " No*- afraid," muttered George between his teeth, "but 
 *n account to settle with him, and I am going 
 
 "Yon must settle your account elsewhere," said Valbrec. 
 "You are really too revengeful. What, because he did 
 not receive you politely when you went to see him three 
 weeks ago, you want to set on him here at the theatre. 
 That would be absurd, and I beg that you will remain 
 quiet, and you too, dear madame. Have you also grounds 
 of complaint against Simancas, for you seem to tremble 
 from head to foot ? " 
 
 " I don't feel very well," stammered Cecile. " It is so 
 hot in this box." 
 
 " Yes, of course that is it. Shall we go and take a turn 
 on the promenade? You have plenty of time for a breath 
 of fresh air before the curtain rises." 
 
 " Thank you, but - " 
 
 " Ah, of course, why you want to go behind." 
 
 " I thought that you would have taken me there after 
 this act was over." 
 
 " Let us go now. You will not find it much cooler, but 
 you will come into the midst of a regular hurly-burly, 
 which will distract your attention, and you can afterwards 
 come back here and see the end of the piece." 
 
 George felt that the change proposed by his friend 
 would give him the necessary time to calm down andpre-
 
 180 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 vent his committing an act of folly. " Very well," said 
 he, " then take us with you." 
 
 Cecile made no objection, for she wished to be certain 
 that George had no acquaintance amongst the actresses, 
 and she resolved to leave the theatre with him as soon as 
 the second act was over. She guessed the feelings of the 
 poor fellow, and she desired to prevent all chance of a 
 meeting between Simancas and her lover. 
 
 " Come, then, my children," cried Valbrec, who had no 
 idea of the true state of their f eelings. " All that we have 
 to do is to make haste." 
 
 Cecile would have liked to have got her mantle, but the 
 box opener who had charge of it was not at her post, and 
 Valbreo assured her that it was very warm behind the 
 scenes. He practiced what he preached, for he had left 
 his own coat in his stall, and George followed his example 
 by depositing his in the cloak-room. One of the officials 
 of the theatre was seated on a chair in front of the door 
 of communication, and performed his duties as Cerberus 
 with incorruptible fidelity. No one, although many heavy 
 bribes were offered to him, had ever managed, unless 
 properly authorized, to pass through that door. Paul 
 Valbrec, one of the staff of a well-known paper, had his 
 right of entrance, but the man looked rather queerly at 
 Cransac as Paul, slipping a five-franc piece into the man's 
 hand, whispered, " A member of our staff." 
 
 " And the lady ? " asked the official, timidly. 
 
 "She belongs to it too," answered the journalist, with 
 the most admirable coolness. 
 
 "Very good," returned the man, inserting a key in 
 the lock. " Go in, sir." 
 
 Valbrec ascended the steps of a short ladder, he then 
 turned and aided Cecile in her assent, George followed; 
 the door was shut, and they found themselves in almost 
 total darkness. " This is funny," said Valbrec; " I have 
 been here twenty times, and I don't know where I am a 
 bit." 
 
 They could see nothing, but heard all sorts of strange 
 noises: the shouts of the workmen setting the scenes, the 
 tramp of the supers collecting in the passages, the clash 
 of metallic substances; and above all these sounds was a 
 loud, sustained growling, varied by an occasional roar 
 like a peal of thunder. Cecile was rather alarmed, and
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 181 
 
 pressed close to George, who reassured her as much as 
 he was able, although he too was quite out of his element 
 in this ill-lighted locality. At this instant three loud raps 
 were heard. This was the signal given by the stage man- 
 ager for the raising of the curtain. " Hang me, if I know 
 where I am," muttered Valbrec. " On the stage perhaps, 
 and we shall be in a nice predicament if the curtain draws 
 up before we have got away. Just fancy what the public 
 would think, for with all the good-will in the world they 
 could not take us for Early Christians about to be cast 
 to the beasts, and I fear we should be hissed. Let us 
 endeavor to escape, my children." 
 
 "I am quite agreeable," returned George, " but which 
 direction shall we take? Must we go on, or retreat?" 
 
 " Let us go in the direction of the light." 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIV. 
 
 A SCENE FROM ANTIQUE ROME. 
 
 CRANSAC and Cecile, in order to follow the advice of 
 their guide, directed their course towards an oil-lamp 
 fastened over a door; and, as they did so, they saw Val- 
 brec, who was in front of them, fell across an elderly 
 man who came out of a low door, bending his head to 
 enable him to do so. 
 
 " Look out there, you stupid animal ! " cried the jour- 
 nalist. 
 
 " Look out yourself," returned the other; " but first 
 tell me how you came in here." 
 
 " Because I have the right to do so. I am Paul Valbrec, 
 editor of the " 
 
 " What ! is that you, M. Valbrec ? Pardon me, but I 
 did not recognize you in the dark. You know me, I am 
 the stage manager." 
 
 " "What, you, Father Ralingue ! Why, we came across 
 you at just the right moment. You can get us a good 
 place; I have two friends with me." 
 
 " So I see. If the manager knew of it he would make 
 a nice fuss; he gave the strictest orders this morning to 
 let no one behind but the press." 
 
 " Quite so; but you, my good fellow, would not be so
 
 182 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 cruel as to turn out the charming lady who is with my 
 friend." 
 
 " It is my duty, and I certainly ought to do HO; but if 
 you will promise to remain perfectly quiet in some 
 comer 
 
 " "VVe swear it; but tell me, what on earth have you 
 done to the place. I can't find my way about at all." 
 
 " It is the new star that is the cause of it all." 
 
 " Well, your new star takes up a deuce of a lot of 
 room." 
 
 " My dear sir, just think: a Koman amphitheatre just 
 like the real one, with solid benches, not painted canvas. 
 "Why, over a hundred supers will be seated on them, with 
 senators in their togas, vestal virgins, and and I don't 
 know what others; but you, who are up in Roman his- 
 tory, know all about them. Everybody will be delighted, 
 and we small make heaps of money." 
 
 " I believe you, my friend; but it seems to me that we 
 had much better have remained in front, for it appears 
 that we shall see nothing here." 
 
 " You won't see everything; but, if you are not too 
 hard to please, I can put you in a corner where you will 
 be quite at home and will not lose a bit of the acting." 
 
 "I don't suppose there will be much acting," said 
 Valbrec, who knew well enough that Cornelian would not 
 be devoured by the lions on the stage. 
 
 "Well, the act is a short one; but it will make jour 
 hair stand on end, I can tell you." 
 
 Cransac paid but little attention to what was going on, 
 for he was thinking of Simancas, whom he had left seated 
 in front. 
 
 Cecile believed that a gladiatorial contest was to be 
 exhibited in the arena, or else that the semblance of the 
 martyrdom of one of the early Christians was to be por- 
 trayed, and joyfully began to anticipate a scene which 
 would fill her with pleasurable emotion. 
 
 " Come, Ralingue," continued Valbrec, who knew what 
 they were going to see, "where must we place ourselves?" 
 
 " There, in that space under the benches. You must 
 stoop to get in; and there is only one chair, which I had 
 brought for myself; madame can use it." 
 
 " That is all we want. Neither I or my friend care 
 about seeing much, certainly I don't."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 183 
 
 " Then you had better stay where you are; and now, 
 if the lady will permit me, I will take her to her seat ?" 
 
 For a moment Cecile hesitated, as she gazed upon the 
 dark hole into which she was invited to enter, and looked 
 at Greorge, as though to ask his permission, but he made 
 no objection ; indeed, he was anxious for a little privacy 
 to tali with Valbrec about Simancas. " Go, dearest," 
 said he, eagerly. "Paul and I will not move from here; 
 and when you have had enough of it, }ou can come 
 back to us." 
 
 Cecile did not wait for him to repeat his permission, 
 but at once followed the obliging stage manager, who, 
 giving her his hand and cautioning her to stoop low, lest 
 she should strike her head, conducted her to her place, 
 and left her with these words: " There is not the slightest 
 danger, but do not come too forward. You must not be 
 seen from the front of the house, and a couple of feet in 
 advance would bring you into view." 
 
 Show herself indeed ? Cecile vowed that she would 
 take the greatest care not to do so whilst Simancas was 
 there; and yet she thought that she was now quite safe 
 from him, and, with a thrill of anxious expectation, she 
 asked herself what she was going to see. 
 
 From her solitary position in the chair, Cecile could 
 see nothing in front of her, though she looked with all 
 her eyes. A fine curtain, made of some sort of gauze, 
 separated her from the scene, and intercepted the gleams 
 that fell from the sunlight in the centre of the house. 
 But if she could not see, sne could hear close to her the 
 sound of deep drawn breathing, which partially drowned 
 the noisy overture the orchestra was performing. "With 
 a kind of apprehension she asked herself whence these 
 heavy, harsh sounds could come from, and as she did so 
 the curtain rose slowly to the flies, and a flood of light 
 inundated the whole scene. Then it was that Cecile saw 
 the famous scene that the stage manager had boasted of. 
 It was a magnificent representation of the Colosseum at 
 Rome, as it was in the days of the last of the Caesars. 
 An enormous amphitheatre, with its rows of benches 
 dwinding away in the distance, and the seat of the Impe- 
 rial Master in the centre. The scene had been copied 
 from one of G-erome's most celebrated pictures, and to 
 produce it in all is entirety and correctness the manage-
 
 184. THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 ment had spared neither care nor expense. The supers 
 who occupied the benches fairly represented the Roman 
 populace; the senators were well chosen, and an old 
 ticket seller had been found to take the place of the Em- 
 peror, and from bis corpulency and Roman nose could 
 easily have sat for a portrait of Vitellius. The vestal 
 virgins were simply superb; perhaps the distinguishing 
 characteristic was wanting, but it is impossible to provide 
 everything. Dazzled by this magnificent scene, Cecile 
 could not take in everything at a first glance, but as she 
 looked a second time she saw that the arena swarmed 
 with lions; some were lying down, others pacing up and 
 down, with heavy thread, on the planks, which creaked 
 and groaned beneath their feet. One was lying down 
 quite close to the curtain that separated Cecile from the 
 stage. This was the one whose heavy breathing she had 
 heard. She was not, however, alarmed for an instant, 
 for she was sure that the authorities would not permit an 
 exhibition in which there would be danger of life or limb 
 either to the audience or the performers, and on looking 
 more closely she saw that all these lions, who seemed 
 entirely at liberty, were shut up in a huge cage, the bars 
 of which, being painted a pale grey, were almost invisible 
 from the front of the house, and made the illusion most 
 complete. 
 
 A thundering peal of applause from all parts of the 
 house testified to the success of the arrangement, and, as 
 if to render the scene more real, some of the lions, 
 excited by the noise, began to roar. Cecile had read 
 sufficiently to know that in the time of the Roman Empire 
 the Christians were thrown to the beasts, and she wondered 
 how she had not guessed what was coming from the title, 
 " The Martyr," which she had read on the playbill, and 
 she was now most anxious to see how the programme 
 would be carried out; for she could hardly think it possi- 
 ble that any of the performers would volunteer to be 
 devoured on the stage. She would have gladly ques- 
 tioned George, but she did not dare to move, for fear she 
 might miss some interesting episode. 
 
 At this moment George was explaining to Valbrec the 
 fresh offence which Simancas had committed, and the 
 latter was listening to him with a grave expression of 
 face, like a man who will not commit himself to an opinion
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 185 
 
 until he lias heard every detail. George could not help 
 seeing that Valbrec had some doubts as to the entire 
 veracity of Cecile 's story, and George was endeavoring 
 to convince both himself and his friend that she had 
 escaped unharmed from the Bluebeard's Castle of the 
 Spanish marquis. Cecile was beyond the reach of their 
 voices, and was entirely wrapped up in the scene that was 
 being developed before her eyes. All of a sudden she 
 saw a real iron gate open beneath Caesar's chair, and a 
 group of martyrs of both sexes thrust through it by bare- 
 anned executioners. The martyrs were loaded with 
 pasteboard chains, and the executioners brandished whips 
 above their heads, while the victims endeavoring to evade 
 the blows, raising their hands to heaven in supplication. 
 The lions, smelling human flesh, drew slowly nearer to 
 them, and, as the bars of the cage were invisible, the 
 illusion was perfect. Simancas was the only one upon 
 whose face there was an evil smile, perhaps because he 
 hoped that some of the precautions might fall, and that a 
 blow from one of those heavy paws which were thrust 
 through the bars might cause blood to flow. Cecile, who 
 was on the stage, could see the deception, but to the 
 audience in front the illusion was perfect. Evidently this 
 was only the preliminary portion of the scene, and was 
 to be followed by one still more thrilling, as has always 
 been the custom in all theatrical performance from the 
 very beginning. The Martyrs did not advance, but soon 
 another executioner appeared dragging along a woman. 
 She was clothed in tight fleshings, and seemed entirely 
 nude ; her unbound hair floated wildly over her shoulders, 
 her beautiful head was haughtily erect, and her extended 
 arms seemed to protest against the horror of the punish- 
 ment that awaited her. The executioner was a hideous 
 object, the features of a bulldog surmounted by a mass 
 of shaggy hair; a bull neck and brawny limbs. Enthusi- 
 astic applause rang through the house, and if Cecile did not 
 join in them it was because she remembered the injunc- 
 tions of the stage manager to keep herself perfectly 
 quiet. She thought the tall, handsome woman simply 
 superb, but she could not refrain from trembling when 
 she heard the lions, excited no doubt by the prospect of 
 so luscious a repast, begin to roar, and saw them lash 
 their flanks with their tails. The man who dragged the
 
 186 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 woman along touched a hidden spring; the bars slid back 
 without a sound and closed again upon the pretended 
 martyr, who remained in the inside of the cage in the 
 midst of the ferocious beasts. All was effected with such 
 ingenuity that it seemed as if every one on the stage ran 
 the same risk as the woman inside the bars. Cecile never 
 took her eyes off her for a moment, although now she 
 understood what was about to take place, but she waited 
 with impatience for the conclusion of this perilous per- 
 formance. To carry out her part as a martyr the Lion 
 Queen was unable to go through her usual performance, 
 which was to flog the lions, and to make them dance about 
 like poodles. It was necessary for her to run hither and 
 thither, as though in terror of being devoured; and yet 
 how was she to effect this, with wild beasts who had been 
 trained to obey her, and to crouch at her feet ? The Fair 
 of Montmartre looked forward to something fresh, and 
 they were not disappointed. 
 
 Cornelian, after raising her eyes to heaven, as though 
 to show that she died for her faith, crossed her arms 
 and advanced boldly into the middle of the cage. The 
 lions, as if the order had been given to them, formed a 
 circle round her, roaring loudly. They had been trained 
 to this for the last fifteen days under Cornelian's skillful 
 tuition; but the audience who were not in the secret, 
 looked on the performance in another light. From all 
 sides ran the cry; "Enough, enough!" It was really a 
 terrifying spectacle, but it was not all over yet. Cor- 
 nelian fell on her knees, with her hands clasped together, 
 and at this signal the lions rose upon their hind legs and 
 roared hideously. This roar found an echo all over the 
 theatre; many of the ladies were ready to faint, others 
 hid their faces in their hands and a stifled sob burst 
 from almost every bosom. But the excitement grew 
 more intense when Goliath commenced to irritate the 
 animals with his pike. Then the savage beasts began to 
 bound backwards and forwards, showing their formidable 
 teeth and claws, sometimes leaping over the kneeling 
 woman, rushing madly at the man who was harassing 
 them, and then coming back to the motionless figure in 
 the centre of the cage and throwing it to the ground by 
 
 Eressing their ponderous paws on its shoulders, and 
 nally hiding it completely beneath their bodies, as a
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 187 
 
 pack of hounds will cover the body of a stag that they 
 have pulled down. Then fear seized on all the spectators, 
 and a general rush took place. Men and women crushed 
 and crowded in their efforts to escape. The performers 
 on the stage, especially the vestal virgins, looked most 
 uncomfortable, and the fat man who represented Csesar 
 prepared to decamp without the least regard for his 
 imperial dignity. Everyone believed that this mad rush 
 of the angry lions on a defenseless woman had not been 
 contemplated, and that the performance had terminated 
 in a hideous tragedy. More dead than alive, Cecile 
 wished to fly, but was unable to stir hand or foot. The 
 lions did not seem inclined to relinquish their prey. 
 Nothing could be seen but a hideous mingling of waving 
 manes, heavy paws, savage growls, collected over a white 
 figure, of which a glance could only be caught at inter- 
 vals. This was a draw, and a most wonderful one, for 
 never since the fall of the Roman Empire had such a per- 
 formance been witnessed in a modern theatre. It was 
 time to let the curtain fall to prevent an accident in 
 front of the house; a minute later and there would have 
 been one of those terrible crushes which follow a 
 mad effort to escape from a building. 
 
 " Curtain ! " cried the voice of the manager, and the 
 curtain came down a little quicker than usual. 
 
 But the stage was not dark now, for the gas was 
 lighted, and from her hiding-place Cecile could see the 
 lion Queen calmly disengage herself from the lions and 
 rise to her feet, whilst the beasts dispersed themselves 
 with low gvowls, incited to do so by the ever-ready pike 
 of Goliath. Martyrs and executioners, senators and ves- 
 tals, all hurried out pell-mell by the passage under 
 Caesar's chair, for it was now necessary to leave the stage 
 free for the men whose duty it was to roll forward the 
 cage into which the lions were to be placed. The duty 
 of shifting the terrible animals from one to the other 
 was performed by Cornelian and Goliath, who seemed to 
 think nothing of it, and in a very brief space of time the 
 savage beasts had been shifted into the cage which was 
 their iwmal residence, and which the public had not yet 
 seen.
 
 188 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A SCENE IN MODERN PARIS. 
 
 NOTHING now remained but to shift the scene, and the 
 stage carpenters and the workmen hastened to their 
 duties at once. Cecile had only just time to rush into 
 the passage, where she found George and Valbrec, argu- 
 ing with much vehemence on a subject that was evi- 
 dently far more interesting to them than the scene which 
 had caused her so much emotion. The two friends were 
 still discussing how Cransac should treat Simancas. 
 George persisting in asserting that now was a most 
 excellent opportunity to assault this insolent foreigner, 
 and Valbrec vainly endeavoring to calm him. Neither 
 of them had taken any notice of the performance, 
 and when Cecile clasped George by the arm, and 
 exclaimed: " Oh ! how frightened I was, I thought 
 they would have eaten her," he could not understand 
 what she meant. 
 
 At that moment there was a rush of supers, which 
 carried them away with it, and it was only after a severe 
 struggle that they had a chance of speaking. 
 
 " Was it so touching as all that ? " asked Valbrec. 
 " Did you really think for a moment that the girl was in 
 any real danger ? " 
 
 " I was not the only one that thought so," answered 
 Cecile, who was still trembling. " Did you not hear the 
 noise in the front? Why they were crushing each other 
 to death in order to get out." 
 
 " What has been the matter ? " asked George, still 
 absorbed in the idea that Simancas was within his reach. 
 
 The stage manager, who came up puffing and blowing, 
 with a face as red as a boiled lobster, answered for her: 
 
 " Ah, the jade ! " muttered he. 
 
 " My dear Ralingue," said Valbrec, " you ought to be 
 highly pleased with your new performer. The piece 
 will run a hundred nights at the least. Whom are you 
 abusing ? "
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 189 
 
 " That infernal beast-taming woman. Ah ! if the lions 
 had eaten her I should not have been sorry. Thanks to 
 her, our season has been ruined." 
 
 " How is that ? Why, the lady here has just told me 
 that the success was prodigious." 
 
 ' Prodigious ! Why, they have smashed the seats, and 
 the hospital of the theatre is full of injured persons and 
 fainting women." 
 
 " Well, and do you complain because the audience have 
 found it too realistic ? All Paris will gladly pay you to 
 feel a touch of nature like this." 
 
 ' Don't you understand that the police will stop all 
 future performances, and that to-morrow, at the latest, 
 the manager will receive a notice to that effect. All our 
 expenses wasted fifty thousand francs at the lowest. I 
 tell you that it is simply ruin. We have nothing ready 
 to go on with. We shall have to close for a month, or 
 play some stock piece that won't bring in a sou; a nice 
 look-out indeed for the winter." 
 
 " But you surely knew what your performance was going 
 to be like. It is your own fault if you let her frighten 
 your audience away." 
 
 " Not a bit, the hussy ! She would not rehearse before 
 anyone; the only one she admitted was that keeper, a 
 kind of animal that played the executioner." 
 
 " I know him, I have seen him at the fair an awful 
 looking brute." 
 
 " I never thought that an audience would be such a set 
 of asses as to take a scene that had all been arranged 
 before as a serious matter." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! my good sir, when your principal actors 
 have teeth and claws you don't know what may happen." 
 
 " I assure you, sir," said Cecile, " that I, too, thought 
 that there had been an accident, and I cannot help ask- 
 ing myself even now if the poor girl escaped without a 
 scratch." 
 
 " She ! " exclaimed the stage manager disdainfuUy; 
 " she isn't likely to get hurt in an affair of this kind. A 
 respectable woman would have been* stifled or torn to 
 pieces, but the minx is just now sitting smoking a cigar- 
 ette, and laughing in the face of the manager, who is 
 abusing her for her conduct. I will lay what you like
 
 190 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 that if he dismisses her she will sue for damages, for she 
 has an agreement with him." 
 
 " And she would have right on her side; but he won't 
 send her off. The public know all about it now, and 
 won't be a bit afraid to-morrow." 
 
 " Can't you hear them howling now ? " 
 
 " They want to know how she is, man; why don't some 
 one go forward and make a speech. It is your only way 
 to get out of the scrape." 
 
 " Yes, that is a good idea." 
 
 " And one you ought to have thought of long ago. 
 Don't lose a minute. Draw up the curtain, and take your 
 beast-taming woman on to the stage." 
 
 " But they are not calling for her." 
 
 " Because they believe that the beasts have eaten her, 
 but when they see her safe and sound they will applaud 
 her to the skies; there will be a mad outburst of enthu- 
 siasm, and you will see what the papers will say to-mor- 
 row. They fought to get out this evening, next time 
 they will fight to get in, the theatre will make its fortune, 
 and the girl hers, into the bargain." 
 
 " You forget the prohibition to perform that we shall 
 most likely receive to-morrow." 
 
 " The police won't do anything of the kind unless they 
 are compelled to. You can appeal to the Prefect, to the 
 Minister, and when you have clearly demonstrated that 
 the girl does not even risk her skin, they will permit you 
 to go on with the performance. Only look sharp if you 
 don't want to miss your effect. Strike the iron whilst it 
 is hot." 
 
 " I will," exclaimed the stage manager, rushing to the 
 back of the stage. 
 
 " They will owe me one for this," cried Valbrec ; " but 
 we must not stay here, for they will be able to see us from 
 the front when the curtain goes up." And speaking thus, 
 he drew them away into a position of comparative secur- 
 ity. 
 
 The scene shifter had already removed the cage with 
 the invisible bars, and only a portion of the scene remained 
 behind, which was* the cage which formed the permanent 
 dwelling-place of the lions; the front of the stage there- 
 fore was completely free. All at once, without the 
 customary warning, the curtain went up, and the noise in
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 191 
 
 the auditorium ceased as if by magic. There were some 
 cries of " Sit down in front, sit down," and then profound 
 silence reigned. Everyone expected to hear an announce- 
 ment that nothing remained of Cornelian but a few 
 mangled remains that had been rescued from the lions, 
 but when they saw her led forward by the stage manager, 
 more full of life and beauty than ever, there was a burst 
 of applause that was almost enough to bring down the 
 roof. Cornelian looked superb, as, proud of her triumph, 
 she stepped forward to the footlights, her head erect, and 
 her eyes sparkling with animation, then drawing herself 
 up she let go Father Ralingue's hand and saluted the 
 audience with her whip, as a colonel does when his regi- 
 ment marches past. Then she rapidly brought it down 
 to the port and remained motionless, as though waiting 
 for the verdict of the audience. Three thousand voices 
 were raised in her praise. She had won her cause, and 
 made the fortune of the theatre. The audience, who had 
 just before been execrating Cornelian and the manager 
 for the fright it had sustained now praised them both to 
 the skies, and the stage manager mentally blessed Valbrec, 
 for the advice he had received from the journalist had 
 saved the piece. As Cornelian retired slowly, keeping 
 her face to the audience, her eyes sought the box where 
 she had seen George and Cecile sitting through the hole 
 in the curtain. She had paid no more attention to them 
 during her performance with the lions, for she well knew 
 that a moment's inattention might cost her her life, but 
 she had not forgotten that she had seen him. She did 
 not know Cecile, but she had easily guessed who she was, 
 and her rival's presence had revived all her feelings of 
 jealousy. She fancied that George had brought his mistress 
 to the theatre expressly to insult her; and she hated both 
 of them with a deadly hatred, and revolved a thousand 
 plans of vengeance in her brain, without knowing when 
 or how to execute them, for it was impossible for her to 
 appear in front during the performance. She would have 
 been turned out if she had done so, and reprimanded by 
 the manager. She had almost resigned herself to wait 
 for another opportunity when she saw that the box was 
 empty, and would have dismissed all her plans of ven- 
 geance had not some busy friend mixed himself up in the 
 matter. George Valbrec and Cecile, huddled up together
 
 192 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 in the wing, were standing immediately under a jet of gas, 
 which threw a flood of light over them. Cornelian caught 
 sight of them, and all her jealous fury burst forth again. 
 She had no time to lose, for when the curtain dropped 
 those whom she wished to attack would doubtless return 
 to their box, so she was about to rush on them at once, 
 when she was checked by the appearance of the manager 
 and various officials connected with the theatre, who came 
 to congratulate her on her brilliant success. " It is to M. 
 Valbrec that we are chiefly indebted," cried the worthy 
 Kalingue. " He advised me to take Mile. Cornelian for- 
 ward, and by it he saved us; and the idea of me, who 
 have been stage manager here for twenty years, not think- 
 ing of such a thing, and yet it was as simple as it could 
 be!" 
 
 "Valbrec !" cried one of the shareholders iathe theatre 
 " why, there he is ! " 
 
 Just then some of the workmen had removed a portion 
 of the scene, which disclosed the journalist. " We will 
 carry him in triumph," said another;" "he is with a 
 very pretty woman, and she shall share it wi^h him." 
 
 " Who is she ?" asked the manager. 
 
 " I think she is the sweetheart of the young gentlemen 
 who is with him," replied Rulingue. 
 
 "She ought not to have been allowed behind; but since 
 she is here, I will go and do the honors of the place to 
 her, all on account of that splendid fellow Valbrec, who 
 has got us out of such a hole, for the representative of 
 the police has just told me that his report wiJl not recom- 
 mend the suppression of Cornelian's performance; but it 
 seems as if they were going back to the front of the house 
 for fear lest I should send them there. K un, and stop 
 them." 
 
 Several gentlemen, including Father Ralingue, hast- 
 ened in the direction of George Valbrec and Cecile. 
 This junction of the two parties did not meet Cornelian's 
 views at all, for she percieved that she could not attempt 
 to assault her rival before so numerous a company. Had 
 there only been supers about she would have beaten her 
 without hesitation, but in the presence of the manager 
 and so many influential gentlemen, she had to think twice 
 of what she was going to do. She was therefore forced 
 to remain quite close to the cage in which her lions were.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 193 
 
 " Have you seen her, mistress ?" asked Goliath, point- 
 ing out Cecile from the position where he stood, with his 
 back to the bars of the cage. Cornelian took him aside 
 into a corner, and a dialogue in a low voice began between 
 the Lion Queen and her servant. 
 
 During this time Valbrec had prevented his friend 
 leaving the place with Cecile, as he wished to do, and 
 introduced him to the manager as a literary friend of his. 
 Upon this the manager, who was a most courteous gen- 
 tlemen, begged that he might be presented to Cecile, 
 upon which occasion there was much handshaking, and 
 an interchange of compliments, and then the polite man- 
 ager offered his arm to Cecile, who did not dare to 
 refuse it. Cransac was greatly annoyed, but he felt that 
 he could make no objection to Cecile's being shown round 
 that mysterious locality termed " behind the scenes.' 
 
 " No doubt, madarne," said the courteous manager," 
 you were greatly alarmed just now, but I want to prove 
 to you that these lions are perfect lambs, and of a much 
 more gentle disposition than their mistress, a young 
 woman to whom, believe me, I shall not introduce you." 
 
 " She is very handsome," murmured Cecile, innocently, 
 " and, oh ! so courageous ! " 
 
 Cransac followed the pair in high vexation, while Val- 
 brec whispered in his ear: " I can see where the saddle 
 galls you. You fear lest Cornelian should go on again, 
 as she did on the night we first saw her. There is no 
 fear of that, my friend. Those kind of girls haven't a 
 very good memory. Don't be afraid, she won't eat up 
 Mme. Cecile, and will keep her anger to herself. It will 
 be amusing to watch her." 
 
 But George was not at all convinced, and made no 
 reply, but contented himself with keeping an eye on 
 Cornelian, who, leaning against a support, looked on with 
 an expression of face that boded no good. Goliath had 
 turned his face to the cage, and was keeping the animals 
 in motion by pricking them with his pike, as if he wanted 
 to keep them moving. 
 
 "If you will permit me, madame," continued the manager, 
 "I will take you to the green-room; I only wanted you to 
 to see our menagerie first because the cage will shortly be 
 rolled away to make room for another scene." Then, 
 turning to Goliath, who continued to thrust his pike
 
 194 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 between the bars of the cage, he called out: "Here, you, 
 sir, kindly let the animals alone, or you will make them 
 want to bite some of us. There, that will do." 
 
 Goliath stepped back, and the lions began to grow more 
 calm. 
 
 "You see, madame," continued the manager, "they are 
 lying down. It would almost make one believe that the 
 beasts understand that they are no longer before the pub- 
 lic and need not, therefore, assume airs of ferocity. Now 
 that the fellow has ceased to annoy them, they have 
 stretched themselves out like rugs. It really seems as if 
 one might recline on them." 
 
 " And so their mistress can," saidValbrec, with a laugh; 
 " but I should not advise you to try it, my dear sir, though 
 I have often seen her do so at the fair of Montmartre." 
 
 " I have no intention of trying the experiment, I assure 
 you. It even seems to me as if we were a little too nea:r 
 the cage, the bars are very wide apart, and I should not 
 like to catch a blow from the claw of that big fellow with 
 the black hairs in his mane, who is pretending to be 
 asleep, with his muzzle on his fore-paws. He has a sly 
 look, has he not, madame ? " 
 
 Cecile hardly glanced at the lions, but kept her eye a 
 on Cornelian, who stared at her in return, Their eyes 
 had met, and Cecile asked herself why those of the Lioia 
 Queen were fixed upon hers with such steady persistence., 
 
 She no longer saw Goliath, who had come close up to 
 her, and was now playing with his pike, throwing it up in 
 the air, and catching it again. No one paid any attention to 
 him. Valbrec contented himself with admiring the 
 artistic attitude of Cornelian. Father Eallingue was giv- 
 ing his last orders to the workmen, who were to roll away 
 the cage to the stable where the lions were kept; the 
 manager was only thinking how he could best be agree- 
 able to Cecile; and George, absorbed in his own reflec- 
 tions, tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, without 
 noticing what was going on around him. He could not 
 take Cecile away from her obliging guide, but he was very 
 anxious that the trip behind the scenes should be brought 
 to a speedy conclusion. 
 
 " And now, madame," said the manager, politely, " i} 
 you have quite done looking at these ill-favored animals, 
 jnay I conduct yo# to the green-room-- r"
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 195 
 
 He never finished his speech, for at that moment Goliath 
 missed catching his pike, which, in falling, .pricked the 
 nose of the black-maned lion. Injured in a most sensitive 
 part, the animal leapt to his feet with a loud roar, and 
 dashing himself against the bars, which quivered under 
 the shock, remained standing on his hind legs, his mouth 
 wide open, his paws in the air, with every claw show- 
 ing like a lion rampant of heraldic lore. And to add 
 to the misfortune, Goliath, in dashing forward to pick up 
 the pike that he had so clumsily let fall, pushed against 
 Cecile, who fell with her face against the bars of the cage 
 
 The terrible claws of the lion closed at once upon 
 Cecile's shoulder, she bent beneath the weight, and was 
 within the reach of the monster's teeth, who had now 
 assumed a crouching posture. Cecile fainted without 
 having uttered a cry, and the hideous Goliath made no 
 effort to rescue her. George alone rushed to her aid, 
 and endeavored to tear her from the savage brute, but a 
 blow from the other paw lacerated his hand, and the 
 grasp on Cecile's left shoulder did not relax for a mo- 
 ment. But the brave young fellow, bleeding profusely, 
 was about to return to an attack which might possibly 
 cost him his life, when assistance arrived from an unex- 
 pected quarter, Cornelian, who up to this time had re- 
 mained perfectly still, dashed between him and the cage, 
 and dealt the lion a couple of heavy blows on the head 
 with the but-end of her whip. The savage beast recog- 
 nized its mistress and retreated, with a stifled growl, to 
 the other side of the cage. 
 
 Although severely injured, George profited by the 
 moment's delay to snatch up Cecile in his arms and carry 
 her out of danger. All the workpeople had fled at the 
 sight of this terrible accident, and taken refuge at the 
 back of the stage; thither George followed them, and 
 placed his insensible burden on a bench, which fortu- 
 nately stood near. The stage manager wrung his hands, 
 repeating, " I said that there would be an accident ! " 
 The manager shouted for a surgeon, and one of his 
 friends ran off in search of one. Valbrec alone retained 
 his presence of mind, and endeavored to calm George 
 and to learn the cause of the accident. He suspected 
 that Goliath had let fall his pike on purpose, and that he 
 had also pushed Cecile against the bars of the cage; but
 
 196 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 why Cornelian should have come to the rescue of her 
 rival from the claws of the lion he could not understand, 
 for all seemed to indicate that the keeper bad only exe- 
 cuted his mistress' orders. All of a sudden he per- 
 ceived that she was close behind him, and before he had 
 time to question her, she whispered in his ear: "I 
 wanted her to have been eaten, but my heart failed me at 
 the last minute. I hope that she will not die. I have 
 ha,d enough of vengeance. Tell your friend 'to mistrust 
 his old love and that scoundrel Arthur. It was they who 
 sold the girl to the Spaniard." "With these words Cor- 
 nelian disappeared, and George, who was on his knees 
 by the side of Cecile, did not even catch a glimpse of the 
 Queen of the Lions, who had rejoined Goliath, and was 
 engaged with him in superintending the removal of the 
 cage in which the animals, excited by the sight and 
 smell of blood, were roaring savagely. At this moment 
 the doctor arrived and examined the w r ounded woman, 
 who had not yet recovered her senses. Cecile's left arm 
 was broken in two places, and the claw had penetrated 
 her shoulder, and had lacerated her breast above and 
 below the collar bone. 
 
 " This is serious, most serious. The upper and lower 
 bones of the arm have been broken, and there is a chance 
 that the lung has been injured. I can do nothing 
 here. Send for an ambulance, I will go with her to the 
 hospital." 
 
 " No," said George, in a determined tone; "let her go 
 to my house." 
 
 Cecile's eyes opened; she had heard what he said, and 
 thanked him with a look of gratitude. 
 
 " To your house ? Do not think of such a thing," said 
 Valbrec ; " it is too far." 
 
 " It is my wish," answered George. 
 
 " I see no harm in that," remarked the doctor. " I 
 will see to the injured lady's removal, and she will be 
 better off in a friend's house than in a hospital, and if the 
 case is entrusted to me, I will do my best" 
 
 This arrangement suited the manager completely, who 
 wished to proceed with the piece, and had no desire to 
 see his green-room transformed into a hospital. He there- 
 fore gave all the necessary orders. A mattress was 
 brought, upon which Cecile, who had again relapsed into
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 197 
 
 a state of insensibility, was placed, and it was carried 
 downstairs by four carpenters to the stage door which 
 opens into the Hue de Bondy. George, supported by 
 Valbrec, followed the mournful procession, which was 
 headed by the medical man. Father Ralingue had 
 remained with the manager, and they were both hard at 
 work in getting up the scenery for the third act. At the 
 stage door they had to wait until the litter with the 
 striped canvas covering could be procured from the near- 
 est ambulance depot, and the wounded woman might 
 expire in the dark passage in which the mattress had 
 been placed before it arrived; but the doctor, who had 
 again examined the wound, declared that there was no 
 immediate danger, and that his patient could easily 
 endure the transit from the Theatre of the Porte Saint 
 Martin to the Rue Frochot, but he could not answer for 
 what might take place afterwards. George, crushed 
 down by this unexpected blow, remained silent, and Val- 
 brec strove to cheer him up. " It is all my fault," said 
 he. " J ought to have warned you that Cornelian with 
 her lions was the star of the piece, but as a matter of 
 fact I could not have supposed that you had not read the 
 playbills.' 
 
 " I will kill her ! " interrupted Cransac. 
 
 " Who ? Cornelian ? You are wrong. "Without her aid 
 Cecile would have been a dead woman, for the lions 
 would have torn her to pieces. The keeper is the real 
 criminal. I advise you to leave him alone, for you can- 
 nct prove that he did it all on purpose by letting fall his 
 pike, and besides, what good would it be ? You will gain 
 nothing by denouncing him, and may injure yourself, for 
 there will only be too much talk in Paris about this 
 melancholy accident. How long the litter is in coming," 
 added Valbrec, stepping out into the street. George 
 remained by the side of Cecile. The doctor was endeav- 
 oring to make her inhale some smelling salts, but was 
 unsuccessful in arousing her from the state of insensi- 
 bility into which she had fallen. A small crowd had 
 collected outside the door, and Valbrec was endeavoring 
 to prevent them approaching the spot too closely, when 
 a man ran up quite out of breath, and endeavored to 
 pass. 
 
 " Halt 1 " cried the journalist, barring the passage ;
 
 198 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 then he added immediately: "What! is it you, Saintonge. 
 Where the deuce are you going ? " 
 
 " I was looking for you," replied the reporter. 
 
 ' And for what reason ? " 
 
 " I went into the theatre on the chance of something 
 turning up, and managed to get a stool in the orchestra. 
 I saw you in a stage box, then you suddenly disappeared, 
 and the box-opener said that you had gone behind with 
 some friends. They would not let me through, and as I 
 wanted particularly to see you, I went round by the Hue 
 de Bondy." 
 
 " What had you to say to me that was so urgent ? " 
 
 " Well, there was a report in the house that a woman 
 had been eaten by the lions, and I came to ask you about 
 it that I might run off with it to the paper. It would 
 make a famous paragraph, and perhaps we should be the 
 only ones that had it." 
 
 " You are too full of zeal, my good fellow, and have 
 had a run for nothing. Nobody has been eaten." 
 
 " All the worse," returned Saintonge, innocently. 
 
 " Yes, it is much to be deplored," returned Valbrec, 
 sarcastically; "but go back and re-seat yourself on your 
 stool, if it is only for the sake of letting people see that 
 there has been no accident at all." 
 
 " Yes, it is a pity. Never mind, I shall make up for it 
 to-morrow at Montmartre. Will your friend be there, 
 eh?" 
 
 "I don't think so. Now be off like a good fellow, and 
 meet me at the office at midnight." 
 
 The reporter went off sadly, asking himself what the 
 deuce was the matter with Valbrec that he should dismiss 
 him so cavalierly. 
 
 At that moment Valbrec perceived the bearers bring- 
 ing the litter at the other end of the street, and just then 
 the doctor came out on to the steps of the door, and said 
 to him in a low voice : " She will not die of the wound 
 from the claw, but the bites that the lion has given her 
 are terrible. The forearm is all of a mash, and I much 
 fear we shall have to amputate. Poor woman ! " added 
 the doctor, in a tone of voice which showed that he had 
 but faint hopes of her.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 199 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVL 
 
 WHAT THEY CAUGHT IN THE TRAP. 
 
 POOR Saintonge had experienced a great disappoint- 
 ment at the Porte Saint Martin Theatre. The paragraph 
 which he hoped to get inserted had been reduced to 
 nothing, for on his visit to the office of the paper, after 
 the conclusion of the piece, Valbrec had again forbidden 
 him to mention the accident that had occurred behind 
 ihe scenes, or even to make any fresh inquiries regard- 
 ing it for, as a fiiend of George Cransac, he wished that 
 this unfortunate affair, which was only known to a few 
 persons, should be completely buried into oblivion, and 
 Saintonge could not help feeling that by thus preventing 
 him from making use of an item of news which would 
 have proved highly interesting to the general public, 
 Valbrec was absolutely taking the bread out of his 
 mouth. He was not even able to recoup himself by nar- 
 rating the panic that had taken place when it had been 
 supposed that a fatal accident had happened to Cornelian, 
 for it was the special province of the dramatic critic of 
 the journal to report all such matters, and he would 
 permit of no intrusion in his own domain. But by a 
 mere chance the unlucky reporter had another string to 
 his bow, and the next day might be a very profitable one 
 for him, for Valbrec had in no way prohibited him to 
 follow and report the search operations which were 
 about to be undertaken at Montmartre, but had, on the 
 contrary, encouraged him to sift the matter thoroughly, 
 and hoped that he would bring back with him a mass of 
 information which had, as yet, not appeared in any of 
 the other papers, and he had, therefore, made arrange- 
 ments to hear, and see as much as possible, all that was 
 going on. 
 
 One of the greatest advantages a reporter can have is 
 to be on friendly terms with the police, and if he cannot 
 open relations with the heads of departments, to be well 
 acquainted with some of the higher classes of detectives. 
 And Saintonge knew them all, and was quite intimate 
 'with some of them. He had gained the good graces of
 
 200 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 some of the leading men in the police by getting them 
 praised in the paper to which he was attached, and as he 
 was not proud he had conciliated the subalterns by stand- 
 ing them an occasional drink at the wine shops. Besides 
 all this, he knew how to be discreet when it was necessary 
 to be so, and this quality, and a very rare one it is amongst 
 reporters; had won for him the respect and esteem of 
 some of those in high places, men who are not, as a rule, 
 too prodigal of their civilities to outsiders. The magis- 
 trates themselves looked upon him with a very favorable 
 eye, and permitted him occasionally to assist indirectly in 
 a complicated case, for he had more than once given them 
 valuable hints by drawing their attention to certain points 
 which might otherwise have escaped notice; for he was very 
 clear-sighted, and his great experience in his profession 
 had given him the instincts of a detective, an accomplish- 
 ment which he took good care not to boast about. In 
 return for these little acts of courtesy they gave him scraps 
 of information which they hid carefully from other jour- 
 nalists, and it was by these means that he had learned, 
 before his other professional brethren, of the search that 
 was going to be made in the house and garden in the Rue 
 Gabrielle, and how they hoped to connect the murder of 
 Mahossier, who had just been released from the prison 
 at Melum, with the famous robbery of a bank in the Rue 
 Poissoniere in 1877. 
 
 What is usually termed a judicial investigation does 
 not take place without the persons of the neighborhood 
 taking some notice of it. In a little provincial town it is 
 looked upon as a great event, especially when it is carried 
 out with all magisterial pomp during a sitting of the 
 Court of Assize, with the judges in their robes, the jury in 
 charge of their foreman, and the police closing the proces- 
 sion on foot. It is an imposing spectacle, and, with very few 
 exceptions, a perfectly useless one. In Paris a similar 
 matter is conducted with less ceremony, and this one was 
 to be carried out in a highly populated and little fre- 
 quented neighborhood. The examining magistrate, the 
 commissary of police, and a sub-inspector of the detec- 
 tive force, had arranged to meet at nine o'clock; that is to 
 say, shortly after it grew light, for the sun rises late in 
 December. These gentleman were to assemble in the Rue 
 Gabrielle, which had been placed in charge of a squad of
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 201 
 
 policemen and a posse of detectives. Saintonge, being 
 duly warned of the time and place of the meeting, arrived 
 there at half -past eight, and found no one to speak to but 
 an old sergeant of the detective force, with whom he was 
 intimately acquainted. The veteran was engaged in 
 giving orders to his men as to the positions they were to 
 take up, and who, according to the orders they had 
 received, dropped in one by one from different directions. 
 
 " Good-day, Daddy Pigache," said Saintonge, coming 
 up to him. " I see that our ideas coincide." 
 
 " I do not know, M. Saintonge, if we both see matters 
 in the same light, but I believe I understand my busi- 
 ness fairly; a search is a good thing but a surround is a 
 better one." 
 
 " And as the piece of ground is open on three sides, 
 you have posted men above it, below it, and on its right 
 side. I had guessed you would do so, and I see that you 
 always follow out the old principles, which are the best 
 ones after all." 
 
 " Of course, we may not nab anyone, but we are just 
 going to make a rat-trap " 
 
 " In which you hope to take the man who knocked 
 Mahossier on the head ? " 
 
 " Him, or another." 
 
 " Do you really think, then, that this scoundrel has been 
 killed by one of his accomplices of days gone by, and 
 also in the story of a safe being carried off like a mere 
 pocket-book ? " 
 
 "I should think I did believe in it; and what is more, 
 may my hand be burnt off if I don't think that it has been 
 brought here and hidden, either in the house or the 
 garden. Those who did the trick have not made a move 
 for seven years, because they have been under lock and 
 key. But now that their time is up they will come to fish 
 up the treasure." 
 
 " But I should think that that has been done already; 
 Mahossier's former pal, after having got rid of him, would 
 doubtless have clapped his hands on it." 
 
 " That is not so sure; there are no traces of the ground 
 having been disturbed." 
 
 " How are you going to work ? " 
 
 " That will depend on the orders I receive. Whilst 
 waiting for my superiors, I have posted some men at the
 
 202 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 top to watch the exit by the Place de Tertre, others to 
 guard the gate that opens on to the public flight of steps, 
 and a third lot here in the Hue Gabrielle. So that if there 
 should happen to be a fish in the net, we shall have him 
 to a certainty." 
 
 " Here they come," said Saintonge, pointing to a cab 
 which had drawn up some few yards from the gate. Three 
 men dressed in black got out, followed by a fourth, who 
 carried a barrister's bag full of papers.- They came up to 
 the sergeant, who at once saluted his superior officers. 
 Saintonge did the same, and then stepped on one side; 
 but the magistrate, who was well acquainted with him, at 
 once said: " Pray stay with us, sir, you may be of service; 
 but I shall expect you to send nothing to your paper until 
 we authorize you. It may be that we shall have need of 
 the publicity which you can give to our proceedings, but 
 it is much more probable that we may ask you to keep 
 silence regarding the whole matter. This we shall decide 
 on the completion of the search, at which I permit you 
 to be present." 
 
 Saintonge promised the most implicit obedience to the 
 orders, of whatever kind they might be. 
 
 "Has the owner of the property been summoned?" 
 asked the magistrate of the commissary of the police, who 
 replied that he had been requested to attend at nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 "We can begin without him," remarked the former, 
 and I think that it would be as well to commence with the 
 house. Later on, if there is any necessity for it, we can 
 dig up the garden; but I do not believe that the robbers 
 would have taken the trouble to dig a hole in the ground 
 when it would be so much more easy for them to make a 
 hiding-place in the walls. Sergeant, select four men to 
 come with us, and let the others keep watch on the gate 
 during our absence. " 
 
 The order was at once executed. Pigache, who was ac- 
 quainted with the locality, led the way, whilst Saintonge 
 modestly brought up the rear. 
 
 The procession had not much trouble in making their 
 way through the vegetation, which Lourdier had had 
 thinned before the conclusion of the sale of the property 
 to Cransac. When they arrived at the path on the right 
 which led from the front door to the flight of steps at the
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 203 
 
 Bide, the commissary pointed out the place where the body 
 of Mahoesier had been found, and made the remark that 
 the murdered man and the assassin must have walked 
 Bide by side on the broad pathway on leaving the house. 
 
 "Or before going in," remarked the magistrate; "for 
 there is nothing to prove that they touched the stolen 
 money, even if it is in the house. But let us inspect it first; 
 we can argue the case afterwards..' 
 
 The day had now fairly commenced a dull, gloomy 
 day. Paris was shrouded in fog and mist, and the forms 
 of a few passers-by, who had been attracted by the sight 
 of the police, could be dimly distinguished at the other 
 end of the garden. 
 
 " Let us go in," said the magistrate, pointing to the 
 ruined house. Two of the police went in first, but they 
 had no sooner crossed the threshold than they drew back. 
 
 " "What is it that you have found ? " asked the commis- 
 sary, who was following them closely. 
 
 As they made no reply, he stepped forward, and at the 
 other end of the room saw a man lying on his face in a 
 heap of fallen plaster. The man was in so sound a sleep 
 that he never woke when the commissary called out in a 
 loud and triumphant tone: " We have got one of them, at 
 any rate." 
 
 Everyone pressed forward, and the magistrate, without 
 a sign of emotion, remarked: "That is fortunate; wake 
 him." 
 
 The policemen seized the sleeper, and shook him so 
 violently that at last he opened his eyes. His first word 
 was " Copped;" then, as he scrambled up in a sitting pos- 
 ture, he muttered, " Just like my luck." 
 
 The man was dressed in a brown jacket, and had large 
 iron-shod boots on; his face was clean-shaved, and his 
 closely-cut hair smacked strongly of prison discipline. 
 
 " "What ! another released prisoner ? " asked the magis- 
 trate. 
 
 "No; an escaped one this time," said the commissary. 
 "I know him," and placing his hand upon the man's 
 shoulder, who looked at him with a stupefied air, he said: 
 " You are Pierre Trouillard." 
 
 The man turned pale, but recovered himself in a moment; 
 then shrugging his shoulders, replied with a sneer: "No
 
 201 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 use in saying I ain't. Why, it was you as nabbed me 
 three months ago." 
 
 " For robbery from the person with violence. You were 
 sentenced to twenty years by the Assize Court of the 
 Seine on the 26th of last November. You refused to appeal, 
 and were sent off to the Isle of Khe fifteen days ago. You 
 were most anxious to be sent to New Caledonia, but it 
 seems that you have altered your mind, since we find you 
 here." 
 
 "It seems like it," growled Trouillard. 
 
 " How did you contrive to escape ? " 
 
 " You ought to know well enough." 
 
 " I know that you jumped overboard during your transit 
 from the prison to the vessel, and that you were reported 
 as dead." 
 
 " Well, then, the report was wrong, you see; but it 
 proves that I swim well, and dive better." 
 
 "Then you must have reached the coast and come to 
 Paris?" 
 
 " Yes, tramped it in seven nights, at the rate of twelve 
 leagues each night; and all that for you to come and nab 
 me here. It is just like my luck." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say you had good reason for turning up 
 on the Hill of Montmartre?" 
 
 " You didn't expect me to go to the Grand Hotel, did 
 you? I came here, as I might have gone anywhere else. I 
 found the crib empty, and I did my ' doss ' here. It's 
 always better than to sleep under the ' blue blanket ' in 
 the middle of winter. I am generally pretty wakeful, 
 but I slept too late. Fact is, I was done up. It's a long 
 way from the sea to Paris." 
 
 "So it is; but since your arrival you have had plenty 
 of time for a rest." 
 
 "Have I? Why, I got here at three o'clock this 
 morning, and was in my first sleep when your 'blue 
 bottles' clapped their hands on me." 
 
 "You lie. You were in Paris eight days'ago." 
 
 " What rot ? At that rate, I should have walked as 
 fast as the trains." 
 
 This answer struck the commissary, who was acquainted 
 with the exact date of Trouillard's escape, and if the man 
 had walked the distance, as he said he had, it would have
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 205 
 
 been practically impossible for him to have reached Paris 
 sooner than the past night. 
 
 The magistrate noticed the embarrassment of his col- 
 league, and came to his aid. 
 
 "Do you know a man named Mahossier?" asked he 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Mahossier ? Yes, I knew a bloke of that name, before," 
 answered the man, without the least hesitation. 
 
 "Was he a thief?" 
 
 "Well, yes, he was on that lay; and the proof of it is 
 that he got seven years in the Central, which he ought to 
 have about worked off by this time." 
 
 " He was liberated last week." 
 
 " All the better for him. He has done his time, whilst 
 mine is beginning again, and this time I shan't get off 
 so easily. But why do you ask me about him ? Has he 
 been copped again already ? " 
 
 " He is dead." 
 
 " EeaUy. What did he die of ? " 
 
 " He was murdered, most likely by some of his accom- 
 plices." 
 
 "Ah ! see what a bad thing it is to have disreputable 
 acquaintances." 
 
 " He was murdered here in this garden." 
 
 " That's rum. What was he dodging about here for ? 
 This isn't his part of the town." 
 
 " He came upon the same errand as you did." 
 
 " I don't tumble to your patter." 
 
 " I will endeavor to help your memory. You knew, I 
 suppose, that Mahossier was sentenced in 1877 for having 
 taken part in the robbery of a banking house in the 
 Faubourg Poissoniere. Five rolls of gold were found on 
 him which belonged to the safe that had been plundered, 
 but no one has ever found out what became of that safe, 
 which contained nearly two millions." 
 
 " That was good business," sneered Trouillard, who 
 was evidently growing uneasy. 
 
 " Well, when Mahossier came out of prison, he lost no 
 time in going to look for this money; only, unfortunately 
 for himself, he did not go alone." 
 
 "I shouldn't have thought he was such a fool." 
 
 " He came with some accomplice of former years, who 
 killed him with a blow of a stick/'
 
 206 THE FELOK'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " Oh 1 so Mahossier had an accomplice, had he ? " 
 
 " Two at the le^st, as you know perfectly." 
 
 " How should I know it ? I ah ! that is coming it 
 too strong. If I had nicked two millions, I should not 
 have spent my life in prison. You just look at my sheet. 
 I have been senten ced four times in seven months, three 
 of which were police court affairs, for twopenny-half- 
 penny thefts; then I got twenty years, and was on my 
 way across the herring pond ; but as for this banking 
 business, I wasn't in it. Since then I haven't been out 
 of the stone jug for three months at a time, and I was 
 forbidden to remain in Paris." 
 
 " That explains why you didn't take the money from 
 where you had hidden it after the robbery. You were 
 so well watched that you did not dare to come here. 
 Mahossier ventured, but that was after he had been 
 released." 
 
 "He may have done so, but he didn't come with 
 me. After I had got over my hunger, I used to tramp 
 along the roads by night, and slept in the woods by 
 day." 
 
 "Why were you in such a hurry to get to Paris, . 
 then?"' 
 
 " Because one can hide oneself better in Paris' than 
 anywhere else." 
 
 " And because you were anxious to get hold of your 
 two millions." 
 
 " What ! do you think they are here ? " 
 
 " If they are not it is because Mahossier's murderer 
 has carried them off." 
 
 " Good; but if I had done the trick should I have 
 come back to hang about the empty place when I had 
 pouched the swag ? " 
 
 " We shall find out if it is empty, and pull down the 
 house if necessary." 
 
 " That will make the owner grin on the wrong side of 
 his mouth." 
 
 " And so it will you, though you pretend to joke about 
 it. The search is about to commence, and you shall be 
 present at it. 
 
 "Very good. I am anxious to look on; only let your 
 chaps put me on my feet, for the^ are holding me like $ 
 trussed fowl,"
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 207 
 
 On a sign from the magistrate, the policemen aided 
 Trouillard to rise to his feet, but did not relax their hold 
 on him. 
 
 During this examination the sub-inspector had been 
 examining the walls and corners of the ground floor 
 room, where Cransac had been surprised by Mahossier, 
 and he had not neglected to inspect the chimney-piece, 
 and bent down to get a better view of it. After having 
 sounded it, he went up to the magistrate and whispered 
 in his ear. Trouillard, who was securely held by the two 
 policemen, still affected indifference, but he had lost 
 much of his self-possession, and Saintonge, who watched 
 him narrowly, noticed that every now and then he stole a 
 glance at the plate in the chimney. The magistrate 
 whispered an order to the sergeant, who at once set to 
 work, and bending down, seized the iron pin with both 
 his hands, and drew it in a downward direction with all 
 his strength. The plate never moved. 
 
 " Try and turn it," said the magistrate. 
 
 Pigache did so, and the sound of bolts creaking as they 
 left their sockets was at once heard. 
 
 " Now we have it," said the commissary. " Pull it 
 down." At the first effort the plate opened, for it 
 worked easier now than it did when Cransac had first 
 opened it. 
 
 " I am done," growled Trouillard, as he saw the plat* 
 open.
 
 208 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVH 
 
 "A. SKELETON FORM LAY SMOULDERING THERE." 
 
 THERE \vas a momentary silence, which was broken by 
 the voice of the sub-inspector. " Then you confess ? " 
 asked he, quickly. 
 
 " I confess the robbery," answered the convict, " but I 
 didn't kill Mahossier. I haven't seen him since we cracked 
 the crib together; besides, we were both of us nabbed 
 I the next day, he the day after, and not for the same 
 job. I was quodded for six months over an assault case; 
 without that I shouldn't have let the two millions rust in 
 this hole." 
 
 " Then there is really two millions here ? " asked the 
 magistrate quickly, who knew by experience, that it is 
 necessary to press a prisoner closely when he enters on 
 the road of confession, for if he is given the time to 
 reflect he often stops short and retracts what he has 
 already admitted. 
 
 But Trouillard had evidently decided to make a clean 
 breast of it, and he answered without hesitation : " There 
 were nineteen hundred and forty-five thousand francs: 
 three hundred and fifty-six thousand in bank notes in a 
 pocket-book, and the rest in gold. You can count it, and 
 see if I am not right. If I tell you the truth, it is because 
 lying won't serve my turn. Now that you have got me 
 again, you will send me off to New Caledonia, and I shan't 
 be able to dodge you a second time, therefore I shall 
 never profit by the swag there; nor will Mahossier, for 
 the matter of that, since he has turned up his toes. I 
 don't shirk spitting it all out, for even if you give me an 
 additional stretch for it, at my age, twenty years or life 
 is pretty much the same; but I don't want to have my 
 neck slit, and I don't funk at its being so, for I did not 
 kill Mahossier." 
 
 " Can you prove that it was not you who committed 
 the crime ? " asked the magistrate. 
 
 " If I had given him the crack on the crown I should 
 have pouched the swag and taken my hook. Now, look
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 209 
 
 here. "Would you like me to tell you how it all took 
 place seven years ago ? "We each of us took five rolls of 
 gold, a thousand francs each, and agreed that we would 
 meet again every night and empty the place little by 
 little; but luck was against us, and forty-eight hours 
 afterwards we were both nabbed on separate charges. I 
 was as drunk as an owl, and someone robbed me of my 
 share while I was snoring on a bench in the Boulevard 
 Rochechouart. Mahossier kept bis, and it was found on 
 him, and that was what got him his stretch of seven." 
 
 " How do you know that if you did not see him again ? " 
 
 " By our pals; all those who come into quod bring us 
 news of what goes on among the prigs. Why, in La 
 Roquette I heard when Mahossier was coming out of the 
 Central, and I made sure that he would take a turn this 
 way, and when I cut my lucky, I hoped to get here before 
 him. "Well, it seems that he did me and got here the 
 first, but it doesn't seem as if it did him much good, since 
 some one knocked his brains out for him. I am sorry, 
 though he did try to collar all the swag for himself." 
 
 " Who killed him then, if you didn't ? " 
 
 "I don't know; perhaps some pal who he was fool 
 enough to bring with him to help him lift to the shiners. 
 He wasn't very strong, poor Mahossier, nor very fly neither. 
 At any rate, if that is the way the thing went, there 
 ought to be a deficiency in the pewter or the paper, the 
 exact amount of which I have told you. Count it and 
 see." 
 
 "And your other accomplice? You say nothing of 
 him ? Do not look surprised. The third robber was the 
 bank messenger, who slept near the safe." 
 
 " What, do you know that too ? Then I don' t see why I 
 should not tell you all about it. He was the chap that put 
 up the job. He helped us to get the safe out of the win- 
 dow, and to wheel it off to this crib. It wasn't, very large, 
 but we had no end of trouble with it, and it was he that 
 broke it open with some tools he had brought." 
 
 " What did you do with it ? " 
 
 'We put it^n the truck again when we had emptied it, 
 and carted it as far as Saint Ouen, where we pitched it 
 into the Seine. It is most likely still there." 
 
 "Good; and the bank messenger?" 
 
 " Ah ! I never heard anything more of him. He knew
 
 210 THE FELON'S BEQUESTR 
 
 Mahossier better than he did me. All I know about him 
 was that he wasn't copped." 
 
 " Yes, all trace of him was lost, and it was supposed 
 that he was murdered by his accomplices." 
 
 " It was by Mahossier, then, not by me, for I never saw 
 him after the trip to Saint Ouen; he had his share, like 
 the rest of us, five rolls of gold. Perhaps some one killed 
 him for them. What makes me think that he is dead is 
 that if he had been alive he would have certainly come 
 here and collared the swag. The best thing you can do 
 is to see if the money is all right." 
 
 Trouillard was right. The magistrate should hav 
 commenced by verifying the amount in the hiding-place, 
 
 " To me," remarked Trouillard, " it looks as if the heap 
 had gone done a bit, but better count it to make sure; 
 but mind you get to the bottom of the hole. I dug i( 
 and put up the movable plate, and the work does m<j 
 credit I took six months over it. I am an engineer bi? 
 trade." 
 
 "Six months!" repeated the magistrate. "Then th 
 robbery was a premeditated one ?" 
 
 " I should just think it was. The job had been talked 
 of for a year before we did the trick. It was the bank 
 messenger who pointed out the house in the Rue Gab- 
 rielle to us. It was not inhabited then, and you could 
 go in and out as you liked. That was just what suited us, 
 because, as you can understand, we couldn't walk into 
 the cribs where we dossed with a couple of millions in 
 our pockets. We wanted a warehouse until we could 
 slip into a new skin, little by little, you know. I should 
 have gone into the country and lived on my revenue. 
 Mahossier was going to start as a restaurant and wine 
 shop keeper outside the barriers. The bank man was a 
 German, and was going back to his own country. We 
 had calculated that at the end of two or three weeks, by 
 coming here every night, and taking away five thousand 
 yellow boys each time, we might have cleared the place 
 out, and we had sworn that one would never come with- 
 out the other two. We were to meet every night at s> 
 pub in the Chaussee Clignancourt. It was the lush thafi 
 spoilt everything. I was mad drunk the first day, and 
 the next both Mahossier and I were quodded. You are 
 going to say, how about the bank chap ? Why did they
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 211 
 
 never nab him ? "WellpI think that he must have in some 
 way been finished off the night after we carried off the 
 safe. I may be wrong, of course, but that is my idea; 
 and I tell to you because, having nothing to lose, I feel 
 inclined to play square." ^ 
 
 The magistrate had listened to all these revelations 
 with the attention they deserved, and began to believe 
 that they were true. All that he had to do was to follow 
 the advice of the convict, and make an inventory of the 
 contents of the treasure. Two of the policemen went to 
 work at once, and soon had the packets of gold spread 
 out on the floor. They were proceeding to count them, 
 when Trouillard exclaimed, " But the pocket-book where 
 is the pocket-book ? " 
 
 " There is nothing more in the hole, nothing but sand," 
 answered one of the policemen, after having carefully 
 felt all round the bottom of the hiding-place. 
 
 " Then I have been robbed," cried the convict. " It is 
 just as I thought. Mahossier came here with a pal, 
 who killed him, and then filled his pockets; unless, 
 indeed " 
 
 "Ah, I have got something now," continued the 
 policeman. " But it is not a pocket-book; it feels like 
 bones." 
 
 At this unexpected announcement there was a pro- 
 found sensation amongst all those present. The magis- 
 trate, the commissary, and the sub-inspector all drew up 
 closer to the chimney-piece. Saintonge, who had stood 
 modestly on one side, did not venture to come any 
 nearer, but he trembled with inward delight. His 
 paper would have the^ first news of the discovery of 
 a body. 
 
 Trouillard did not betray much emotion, but he 
 seemed as much surprised as the others. " After all, it 
 may be Martin, of the bank, and Mahossier may have 
 given him one the next day whilst I was asleep on the 
 boulevard. Fancy the dogs having put their heads to- 
 gether to rob me on the very first evening ! " 
 
 The policeman, who was scraping with both hands in 
 the sand, brought out a fragment of a coat with a copper 
 button with two letters in relief on it, a B and a C, the 
 same as those that were on the pocket-book that Cran-
 
 212 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 sac had taken away with him on the occasion of his last 
 visit. 
 
 " These are the initials of the banker whose safe was 
 robbed," said the commissary. l It is the body of the 
 bank messenger that we have discovered." 
 
 " Right you are," cried the convict, " and it must have 
 been done as I tell you. Mahossier killed Martin to 
 keep it all; and he would have done the same to me if 
 we had not both been quodded, and later on he got a 
 crack on the skull. I don't know who gave it to Lim, 
 but it served him right, for he has taken the pocket-book 
 and the missing packets of gold." 
 
 " What did he do with it, then ? " asked the magis- 
 trate, "for he had only five thousand francs on him 
 when arrested. Only five thousand francs, and not a 
 single note." 
 
 " He had hidden the rest, of course." 
 
 "That is impossible; and instead of accusing a dead 
 man, who cannot contradict you, it would be better for 
 you to attempt to justify yourself." 
 
 " Justify yourself ! and what about? You know well 
 enough that I neither killed Martin or Mahossier. 
 Had I killed either of them, I should not have been such 
 an ass as to tell you that I was mixed up in the robbery 
 of 77; and if I had not split upon myself you would 
 never have been able to prove that I came here for any- 
 thing but to take a sleep." 
 
 " You were found here, and that is quite enough to 
 cause you to be suspected of both murders. It is for 
 you to prove that you are not the assassin, and at 
 present you have failed to do so. Have you anything 
 more to say before I send you to the House of 
 Detention ? " 
 
 "No, it isn't worth while to jaw any longer. You 
 would not believe me; suppose I had taken away the 
 pocket-book and hidden it somewhere else? It held 
 three hundred and fifty-six thousand francs. Would not 
 that have contented a man without his coming here to 
 get nabbed?" 
 
 " At any rate, it has gone, and who can have taken it 
 if it was neither you nor your former accomplice, 
 Mahossier ? "
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 213 
 
 " Perhaps it was some one who found out the secret of 
 the hidding-place in my absence." 
 
 " If any one had done so they would have left nothing 
 behind them." 
 
 "That remains to be seen. Suppose he had not the 
 time to take it all at once, or that he was going to act 
 like us, and empty the hiding-place little by little ? If 
 that is his game he will begin again, and to nab him at 
 his next visit you have only to set the trap afresh." 
 
 This argument seemed to have some effect on the 
 judge, who began to reflect, for he saw that in the pres- 
 ent examination he should draw nothing further from 
 the man, and he was resolved not to send him off to the 
 Isle of Bhe with another term of penal servitude to work 
 out until all these mysteries had been cleared up. He 
 half believed that Trouillard had not killed any one, but 
 it was necessary to have him in readiness if an inquiry 
 should be set on foot regarding the two murders and 
 the robbery perpetrated in 1877. It was, however, nec- 
 essary to remove the gold spread about over the floor, 
 and to have the remains which had been discovered in 
 the sand examined by a medical man ; but it was not 
 necessary that the convict should be present at either of 
 these operations. 
 
 " Is that all you have to tell me ?" asked he, gazing 
 steadily at the criminal. 
 
 Trouillard hesitated for a moment; but at last he 
 decided to speak, and give a last piece of information. 
 " I repeat to you, that very likely the pocket-book was 
 taken away whilst I was temporarily at Mazas," said he 
 hurriedly. "I am almost sure of it now, and this is the 
 reason. It was all owing to an act of folly that I com- 
 mitted, but perhaps it may help me a little if I tell you 
 all about it." 
 
 " This is enough preamble," interruped the magistrate. 
 " Come to facts, for I am in a hurry."
 
 214 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 CHAPTEE 
 
 PIERRE TROUILLARD SPEAKS. 
 
 AGAIN the convict paused for a few moments, and then, 
 as though he had suddenly made up his mind, he began 
 to speak with great volubility. 
 
 " Look here, sir, as soon as I was committed for trial 
 my lawyer did not hide from me that my case was a bad 
 one, and that I was booked for twenty years; so I said to 
 myself that I should never get back across the herring 
 pond, to pick up my two millions, and it bothered me 
 awfully to think that no one would benefit by them 
 except Mahossier, and I had my knife in him, and so the 
 idea got into my head that I would make a present of 
 them to some one." 
 
 "How could }ou manage to do that?" 
 
 " I'll just tell you how I did it. I expect you know 
 that when we are out in the exercise-yard at Mazas we 
 can telegraph to our next door neighbors, by throwing 
 things over the wall between us; we chuck over tobacco, 
 or a bit of paper rolled round a pebble." 
 
 The magistrate cast an inquiring glance at the sub-in- 
 spector, who replied: " He is quite right; it is impossible 
 for the warders to prevent its being done." 
 
 " Well," continued Trouillard, " I had a neighbor who 
 acted like a trump to me. He chucked over whatever I 
 wanted; such bundles of cigars I never smoked such 
 bang-up stuff in my life. So I says to myself, "As well 
 this chap as another/ and I slings over a note, which 
 showed him the whole bag of tricks, the road to take, the 
 house in the Rue Gabrielle, the way to open the plate 
 in short, everything." 
 
 "Do you mean to say that he got this note?" asked 
 the magistrate, eagerly. 
 
 "Got it? I should think he just did; and as he had 
 written to me the evening before that he was going out 
 of the jug, I don't expect that he losfc any time in profit- 
 ing by the tip I had given him, which I shouldn't have 
 done if I had been cocksure of getting away from the 
 Isle of Rhe. But now I am landed. The rogue came
 
 THE FELONS BEQUEST. 215 
 
 here and filled his pockets, beginning with the pocket- 
 book, which was the easiest to carry off." 
 
 " Then this man killed Mahossier ? " 
 
 "I know nothing about that. I don't believe they 
 knew each other. A chap that smoked such prime baccy 
 must have been a bang up swell faker, and you know 
 that Mahossier was not in that swim; but they may 
 have come across each other here one night, for aJJ 
 that." 
 
 " You don't know the name of this man ? " 
 
 "No, nor why he was in quod either; and, of course, 
 1 never set eyes on him. One may live in Mazas for 
 fifteen years alongside one's own brother and not know 
 .it. Nor do I expect that he knows any more of me than 
 I do of him." 
 
 The magistrate made a mental note of the unexpected 
 result of solitary confinement in prisons, and began to 
 think how he could utilize the convict's statement, which 
 had an air of probability about it. 
 
 " Then," continued he, " your next door neighbor was 
 discharged, I suppose, for want of sufficient evidence ? " 
 
 " I believe so,'' answered Trouillard. " On the piece 
 of paper he tossed over to me, he had written, ' I shan't 
 be here to-morrow,' which might have meant, 'I am 
 about to be transferred elsewhere '; but since he has 
 been taking a walk in this direction, I should think he 
 had v been let out." 
 
 This statement would not bear sifting, for it would 
 have been first necessary to prove that this unknown 
 who had been the recipient of the convict's confidence 
 had profited by it; but the magistrate, as a preliminary 
 step, drew the sub-inspector on one side, and gave him 
 certain instructions as to examining the registers of the 
 Mazas prison, to ascertain the names of those prisoners 
 who had been released when Trouillard was there, pre- 
 vious to his appearance before the Assizes, and, as these 
 registers were kept with scrupulous regularity and 
 exactitude, the search would be neither long or diffi- 
 cult. 
 
 Nothing now remained but to sign the warrant for the 
 escaped convict's committal to the House of Detention, 
 and this the magistrate did at once, using the bag of the
 
 216 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 clerk, who produced the necessary printed form, as a 
 desk. " Take the prisoner away," said the magistrate. 
 
 "It was high time," growled Trouillard; "take me off 
 to the cells, I can hardly stand on my legs, and there, at 
 any rate, I shall be able to have a lay down." Then, as 
 the constables adjusted his handcuffs, he added: "I 
 should have liked to take a squint to see if it is really 
 Martin's carcass down there, but that copper button 
 almost settles the case; besides there can't be much of 
 him left, and I should have no end of trouble in recogniz- 
 ing him. Take me off, then : all I ask is a cab, for I can 
 hardly put one foot before the other." 
 
 Just after he had been removed, one of the constables 
 whom the sergeant had posted in front of the gate lead- 
 ing into the Rue Gabrielle came in to inform the 
 magistrate that the owner of the property was in the 
 garden, and was ready to appear before him, whenever 
 his presence was required. 
 
 " I don't want him to come in here," said the magis- 
 trate after a moment's reflection. " I will speak to him 
 outside. Take him into the path on the right that skirts 
 the terrace ; and until the medical man makes his appear- 
 ance, will you, sir," turning to the commissary, " have 
 the goodness to remain here in charge, and you, sub- 
 inspector, come with me. M. Saintonge, you can stay 
 here; I want to say a few words to you presently." With 
 these words the magistrate left the room, and as soon as 
 he was a few steps from the door, he turned to the sub- 
 inspector, and said : " What do you think of all this ? I 
 confess that I don't see my way, and before going any 
 further I should like to hear your opinion." 
 
 " Sir," replied the police official, " my opinion is already 
 formed. The convict Trouillard has spoken the truth; it 
 was Mahossier who murdered the bank messenger, and 
 he himself was killed a day or two ago by the prisoner 
 who was discharged from Mazas about a month back." 
 
 " A man whose name and description we do not know." 
 
 " But we shall have both this evening, for I will go 
 myself to the registry office of Mazas prison." 
 
 " We sha'n't catch him though, for he has had plenty 
 of time to get out of the country with his money." 
 
 " He did not take it all, and mv opinion is that he has 
 remained in Paris, with tne nope 01 securing the r-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 217 
 
 mainder, in which case he will certainly return here, and 
 if we leave some men on the watch we shall trap him." 
 
 " I have not much confidence in our doing so. In this 
 wretched affair, it is all groping in the dark, and our 
 clues are very slight. I do not even know to whom this 
 sum of money belongs that we have just discovered." 
 
 " To the creditors of the banker who was robbed, and 
 after they have been paid, to his heirs, if he has left any, 
 a fact of which I am at present in ignorance." 
 
 " The house and grounds, they tell me, once belonged 
 to him. It seems a strange thing that the robbers should 
 have chosen it for a hiding-place for their plunder." 
 
 " Oh ! but the place had been deserted for some years 
 before the robbery was committed, as Trouillard has just 
 told us. The bank messenger who planned the robbery 
 knew well enough that no one ever came near the place, 
 and that consequently it would form a safer hiding-place 
 than they could find elsewhere." 
 
 " Well, what we now have to do is to question the pres- 
 ent proprietor of the property. Who knows if he did 
 not know of the existence of the treasure, and he may 
 even have endeavored to secure it for himself ? At any 
 rate, he may be able to furnish us with information 
 regarding many points, and I wish you to be present 
 when I question him." 
 
 " He is a most respectable business man, and I do not 
 think that you will find that he is implicated in the affair, 
 but here he is." 
 
 Escorted by one of the police who had been sent in 
 search of him, Lourdier appeared at the other end of the 
 walk. He seemed rather nervous, although he had 
 nothing to reproach himself with, and came up to the 
 magistrate, removing his hat as he did so. 
 
 " You are M. Moras, a cloth merchant, are you not ? " 
 asked the magistrate. 
 
 " No, sir," answered the advertising agent. " M. Moras 
 is ill, and has sent me in his place." 
 
 "But no one can take his place, and I am surprised 
 that M. Moras should think so. When a regular notice 
 has been served, a personal attendance is absolutely 
 necessary." 
 
 " M. Moras knows that, sir, but he is in bed, and if you 
 desire to interrogate him, he is entirely at your disposal.
 
 218 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 But if, in the meantime, you require any information 
 about this property, I can give it you, for I know more 
 about it than the owner, who has never occupied it." 
 
 " "Will you then answer the questions that I put to you ? 
 When and from whom did he buy it ?" 
 
 " He did not buy it, sir. He got the property at the 
 liquidation of a banker who owed him money, nearly 
 seven years ago." 
 
 " A banker in the Faubourg Poissoniere ?" 
 
 "Just so; the banker had been robbed. At that time 
 the affair created a great sensation, but the lost property 
 was never recovered." 
 
 " You are wrong. It has been found." 
 
 " Indeed ! and where ? Not here ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; and one of the robbers has been arrested. 
 One of them was murdered in this garden a few days 
 back." 
 
 " I heard that a man had been killed here, but I never 
 connected him with the former robbery of the banker, any 
 more than I thought that the money was hidden away in 
 M. Moras' property. If I had known that " 
 
 " "What would you have done ?" asked the magistrate, 
 quickly. 
 
 Lourdier already regretted having spoken too quickly, 
 but he could not withdraw his words, so he answered in 
 an embarrassed manner: ""Why, of course, I should not 
 have sold it then." 
 
 " Sold it !" repeated the magistrate. " "What right had 
 you to sell it ?" 
 
 " M. Moras gave me full authority to do so, as he was 
 anxious to get rid of it, and at last I managed to find a 
 purchaser. The deed of sale was drawn up by M. Guerin, 
 a notary in the Place Dancourt, Montmartre." 
 
 "How long ago?" 
 
 " Quite recently. I think the business was completed 
 upon the very day on which the body of the man who had 
 been murdered was found." 
 
 ""Who bought it?" 
 
 "A most respectable gentleman, very wealthy, who 
 bought the house and ground in one lot." 
 
 " A strange idea, was it not, to buy an uninhabitable 
 house, and a bit of ground that brought in nothing ?"
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 219 
 
 " Oh ! he got it cheap, though I had a good deal of 
 difficulty in persuading him to buy." 
 
 " But what could he want with a spot like this, that is 
 of no marketable value ?" 
 
 "To have a country house in the middle of Paris. 
 That could easily have been done by pulling down the 
 old house, and re-modelling the garden entirely. In fact, 
 he did not make a bad investment." 
 
 " He would have made a still better one if he had got 
 hold of the stolen millions, and perhaps this was his idea 
 all along." 
 
 " Eh ! what ? I never thought of that," muttered Lour- 
 dier r " If that was his idea he was more shrewd than I gave 
 him credit for." 
 
 " What was the name of the purchaser? " 
 
 " Cransac George Cransac. " 
 
 The name was not familiar to the magistrate, who, having 
 had nothing to do with the charge of uttering the forged 
 check, had never even heard it. The sub-inspector had, 
 of course, heard of the case, but he saw so many prison- 
 ers from one year's end to another, that his memory could 
 not retain all their names. 
 
 " You knew the gentlemen with whom you did business 
 before, I presume ? " asked the magistrate. 
 
 " I did not, nor have I known him long," returned 
 Lourdier. " It was sufficient for me that he was solvent, 
 and as I knew that he was so, 1 did not make any inquiries 
 about him, and so can tell you nothing on that head." 
 
 Lourdier began to think that the magistrate suspected 
 Cransac of some misdemeanor or other, and he wished to 
 avoid compromising a friend of Valbrec's, who was the 
 editor of an influential paper, with the advertising depart- 
 ment of which he had a great deal to do. He therefore 
 took care to say nothing about George's misadventure 
 regarding the check, and endeavored to say nothing 
 against a friend, with whom his relations had always been 
 of the most pleasant description. 
 
 "You tell me that this young man is wealthy," contin- 
 ued the magistrate. " "What does he do ? " 
 
 "I dont think he does anything; his means permit him 
 to be idle. He had some idea of writing articles in the 
 paper to which I belong, but it was only an idea." 
 
 " You are a journalist then ? "
 
 220 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "Not exactly; I have charge of the publicity depart- 
 ment." 
 
 " In other words, you are an advertising agent ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; but lam acquainted with nearly all the 
 journalists in Paris. It was through one of them, indeed, 
 that I had the pleasure of first meeting M. Cransac." 
 
 " Who was this gentleman, if you please ? " 
 
 " Paul Valbrec." 
 
 " A writer that I always read with much pleasure. No 
 doubt, then, he would be able to tell me all about M. 
 Cransac ? " 
 
 " Much better than I can, for I have not seen him since 
 the conclusion of the sale of M. Moras' property." 
 
 "I will request him to call upon me at my office, and 
 question him there. M. Saintonge belongs to the staff of 
 M. Valbrec's paper do you know him ? " 
 
 " Saintonge, the king of reporters ! I should think I do 
 know him. If you put him on this business he would give 
 you a wonderful account of it, and make a good thing for 
 himself out of it too. There is not his equal in making 
 the most of an incident." 
 
 "And he has another excellent quality, that of never 
 being indiscreet, and so hindering the course of a judicial 
 inquiry; and it would be well if all his brethren of the 
 press were equally reserved." 
 
 Lourdier took this as a hint, and protested that he would 
 not whisper a word of what had passed to anyone, though 
 he resolved to go and see Valbrec the moment the magis- 
 trate had finished with him. 
 
 " Where does Cransac reside ? " asked the sub-inspector, 
 who thought he might as well know where he could lay 
 hands upon the suspicious purchaser of the property. 
 
 "At the Grand Hotel, I believe," answered the wary 
 Lourdier. He knew very well that Cransac's real abode 
 was at 19, Rue Frochot; but he did not wish to mention 
 this until he had consulted Valbrec, whose good opinion 
 he desired to retain. 
 
 Lourdier thought to himself: "I am not telling a false- 
 hood, since a week ago Cransac had still his rooms at the 
 Grand Hotel; and if his conscience is not quite clear, he 
 will have time to slope, after Valbrec has warned him that 
 he is suspected of one or two gross misdemeanors."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 221 
 
 " If he is so wealthy, why does he reside at an hotel ? " 
 asked the keen sub-inspector. 
 
 " He is only staying there as a temporary measure until 
 his villa is ready for him, which it will be next summer; 
 but after all, I can only tell you what he has told me. 
 My relations with him have been of the slighest kind, and 
 I met him by a mere chance, at a dinner that Paul Valbrec 
 gave to some of his friends. 
 
 All that Lourdir wanted was to be able to give Cransac 
 the chance of seeking safety in flight if he had anything 
 to fear from the police, but he chiefly desired not to com- 
 promise himself, and to prove that he was not at all inti- 
 mate with a man who seemed just now an object of sus- 
 picion, after having already spent a short time within the 
 w r alls of Mazas. 
 
 " Very well, sir," said the magistrate. " If I require 
 your presence again I shall send for you, but at present 
 I have no more need of you, and you may retire." 
 
 The advertisement contractor did not wait for a second 
 notice of dismissal; he bowed to the magistrate and to the 
 sub-inspector, and, turning round, made off in the direc- 
 tion of the Rue Gabrielle, delighted at having got off so 
 easily, and firmly resolved to hasten off to Valbrec, whose 
 residence was near the Hill of Montmartre, and whom he 
 was pretty certain to find in bed, for, as he worked until 
 an early hour in the morning, he seldom rose before mid- 
 day. 
 
 As soon as the magistrate and the sub-inspector were 
 left alone together they exchanged a look of satisfaction, 
 showing that the same thought was passing through both 
 their mids. Lourdier's examination had elicited nothing 
 definite, and the information with which he had furnished 
 them regarding the new owner of the property had not 
 in any way cleared up the aspect of affairs. The magis- 
 trate, however, appeared to think that this M. Cransac 
 had bought the land without any particular motive, just 
 as he would have bought any other site that might have 
 been presented to his notice which had the advantage of 
 a fine view and was in an airy situation. He mentioned 
 his opinion to the sub-inspector, who was not so com- 
 pletely convinced, and who determined without further 
 loss of time to make some inquiry into the young man's 
 past life, and also as to the origin of his fortune. " I will have
 
 222 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 him watched at once," continued the wary police official and 
 I will inspect the register of the Mazas prison. If I find his 
 name on the list, we need search no further; for nothing 
 will then remain in doubt. "We shall then have to act 
 without a moment's delay; for if he is guilty, and by any 
 chance learns what has taken place here to-day, he will 
 be off by the first train." 
 
 " It would, perhaps, have been wiser to have detained 
 that advertising agent, who appears to be quite capable 
 of warning our man," remarked the magistrate. 
 
 " My fellows will be at the Grand Hotel before him, 
 and if you have no further need of me, I will ask you to 
 permit me to leave you now, so that I may go to Mazas: 
 and make inquiries." 
 
 " You are right, for it is most urgent." 
 
 "My sergeant, Pigache, can easily superintend the 
 removal of the treasure." 
 
 "Very well; I see the doctor coming for the medical 
 examination, so go. I shall expect you at twelve o'clock 
 at my office with your report, and then I will decide what 
 course I shall take." 
 
 " I shall also ask at the office of the Assize Court for the 
 report of the sitting of the Court at which Mahossier was 
 sentenced. It is necessary for me to know the exact 
 amount of the sum that was stolen from the banker, seven 
 years ago, so as to remit the surplus, after paying his credi- 
 tors, to his heirs, if he has left any. 
 
 " All has been done so quickly that I have not had time 
 to look through the papers relating to the robbery." 
 
 " Nor do I know anything of it; for at that date I was 
 not in the detective department. And now, sir, since you 
 think that you can dispense with my presence, I will give 
 Pigache his instructions, and set to work at once." 
 
 The magistrate did not seek to detain his auxiliary, 
 and went off to speak to the doctor, who he had not 
 expected would arrive so soon. Just then Saintonge left 
 the house where all operations had been suspended dur- 
 ing the absence of the magistrate, and begged him to 
 permit him to leave the place. He received the requisite 
 permission, coupled with this piece of well-meant and 
 fatherly advice : " You may relate in your paper all that 
 you have seen here, do you understand? but not a 
 syllable morej for if you indulge in any comments or
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 223 
 
 iuppositions, I shall be unable for the future to permit 
 your presence in the event of this matter requiring fresh 
 search to be made 'in the garden." 
 
 Saintonge promised to attend scrupulously to this 
 advice, and took his leave, delighted at having employed 
 his morning so well. He was desirous of conveying to 
 the editor the success of his mission, and he had no idea 
 that the day which had now begun was to decide the 
 fate of that George Cransac whom he had met in the 
 office of Paul Valbrec. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 HUNTED DOWN. 
 
 THE little suite of rooms in the Rue Frochot had under- 
 gone a complete change. 
 
 The nest of the two fond lovers had been turned into a 
 hospital. 
 
 The insensible figure of Cecile Cambremer had been 
 brought there on a litter between ten and eleven 
 o'clock. 
 
 The doctor and George Cransac had passed the 
 remainder of the night watching, by her bedside, and 
 after having again examined her wounds, which he had 
 been unable to do before in a satisfactory manner in the 
 dark passage leading to the stage-door, the doctor had 
 revoked his former sentence. 
 
 He now hoped to be able to save his patient without 
 having recourse to amputation. 
 
 The animal's claws had not penetrated so deeply as he 
 had at first imagined into the breast and shoulder, and 
 the lung was fortunately untouched. The bone of the 
 arm was certainly broken in two places, but it was not 
 so terribly splintered as he had feared it was, and simple 
 fractures are easily cured, unless some unforeseen com- 
 plication arises. Cecile had endured with the greatest 
 courage the painful operation of extracting two or three 
 splinters of the bone from her flesh, and the first dressing 
 had been applied. Josephine Sureau, who had been sent 
 for with the first dawn of day, had arrived, and looked 
 after the patient much better than George could have
 
 224 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 done; for on occasions of this kind a man is of but little 
 use, and Josephine, like all those who have suffered 
 much themselves and seen much suffering in others, was 
 a most excellent sick nurse. Instead of bursting into a 
 flood of lamentations at the state in which she found her 
 benefactress, and instead of loudly inquiring the cause of 
 her being so seriously injured, she at once placed herself 
 under George's orders, without making a single re- 
 mark. 
 
 George reproached himself bitterly with having been 
 the involuntary cause of her accident; first, in having taken 
 her to the theatre, and secondly, in having let her pene- 
 trate behind the scenes. All seemed the result of a 
 piece of inconceivable forgetfulness on his part. The 
 fact that Cornelian was going to make her first appear- 
 ance on the boards of the Theatre of the Porte Saint 
 Martin had entirely escaped from his memory, and, with 
 his mind filled with plans for vengeance on Simancas, 
 he had permitted Valbrec to take Cecile behind the 
 scenes. All that had happened afterwards seemed 
 planned by the hand of Fate; and he did not for a mo- 
 ment doubt that tbe villainous Goliath had thrust Cecile 
 against the cage on purpose to gratify the jealous hatred 
 of Cornelian. 
 
 Had Cecile guessed the truth ? George had reason to 
 hope that she had not, for since she had regained con- 
 sciousness she had not said a word about the Queen of 
 the Lions or their keeper, and George took care to make 
 no allusion to them. He now left her bedside whilst 
 Josephine moved noiselessly here and there, preparing 
 and applying the cold water bandage which the doctor 
 had ordered to be kept constantly on the wounds. The 
 doctor himself was to return in the afternoon with one 
 of the most skillful surgeons of the day, who was to pro- 
 nounce the verdict as to whether amputation was neces- 
 sary or not. 
 
 The poor wounded girl had displayed invincible 
 energy, and a clearness of intellect which was surprising 
 under the circumstances. She strove to comfort George, 
 who could not conceal the anguish he was enduring on 
 her account, and she even endeavored to joke about her 
 accident; once she said almost merrily: "It served me 
 right, I was too curious. I have that fault; I had it
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 225 
 
 from my childhood. My poor father always predicted 
 that I should be punished for it, and so I have been, but 
 perhaps a little too severel} 7 . And yet it might have 
 been worse. At one time I thought the terrible monster 
 was going to strangle me. Then, George, all my 
 thoughts fled to you, and I fainted. You, I am sure, 
 must have suffered more than I did, and do not think 
 that I am referring to the wound you received in trying 
 to save me, but the pangs of your heart." 
 
 "My wound is a mere nothing," answered George, 
 casting a glance at his right hand, which was swathed in 
 bandages; "but had you died, I would not have sur- 
 vived you." 
 
 "Do not say that; it makes me so wretched. Be- 
 member that I may die after all, but swear to me that 
 should I do so you will have the courage to live." 
 
 "You shall not die; the doctor said you would not." 
 
 " He may be wrong, and I had rather do so than let 
 them cut off my arm. If I had but one, you would love 
 me no longer." 
 
 " Do not say so." 
 
 " No, you would not love me as you have done ; and if 
 you did not I should kill myself. Ah ! do not contradict 
 me. I hope that I shall save my arm, and that your 
 heart will not change, but so many things may happen 
 that we must look forward to everything; and if I am to 
 die, before leaving this world I should like, oh ! how 
 much I should like " 
 
 ' To do what ? " asked George, deeply moved. 
 
 ' You will laugh at me. I should like " 
 
 ' Tell me what; you terrify me." 
 
 ' To make my will." 
 
 ' That is madness." 
 
 ' It is not madness. It is an idea that has been in my 
 mind ever since I knew you. I wish to make you my 
 heir." Then, as her lover made a gesture of refusal, she 
 continued : " I can guess what you are about to say, that 
 you are rich, and that I have nothing. You forget, dear 
 friend, that, thanks to you, I am at the head of a prosper- 
 ous business, and also that I owe you a thousand francs." 
 
 " Do not speak of that," murmured George, deeply 
 hurt at the thought of her looking upon him in the light 
 of a creditor.
 
 226 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " Do not be vexed, my dear George, but remember 
 that I only took this money from you on the condition 
 that I should be permitted to return it, and if I live you 
 will permit me to pay off the loan ? " 
 
 " Yes, but " 
 
 "Ah ! you make me very sad; you must allow me to do 
 as I wish. I shall injure no one, for I have not a single 
 relation in the world. Promise me, then, that you will 
 accept the legacy." 
 
 " Very well, I promise if you persist in this strange 
 fancy; but before doing so, you must take time to reflect." 
 
 " I have reflected, and it must be done at once." 
 
 " "What ! you desire " 
 
 "Yes, I wish to make my will before the doctors meet 
 in consultation here, which will be very soon, and I want 
 to take advantage of the time that we are alone together, 
 whilst that good Josephine is preparing the broth that 
 the doctor ordered me to take. Do not say that it is 
 impossible. I have lived long enough to know that we 
 can dispense with the assistance of a notary, and that a 
 will is legal if it is properly dated and signed, and written 
 entirely by myself." 
 
 " What a strange whim !" 
 
 " I entreat you to yield to it." 
 
 George thought that it would be unwise to run counter 
 to CecUe's wishes in her present state of health, and 
 therefore would not deny her a pleasure which was per- 
 fectly harmless. Shrugging his shoulders, he took a 
 blotting book from the table, placed a sheet of paper on 
 it, and setting it before the injured girl, put a pen ready 
 dipped in ink between her fingers, who wrote her last 
 wishes in two lines: 
 
 " I make George Cransac, who has twice saved nay lif e, 
 my sole heir and executor." 
 
 She put in the date, and signed Cecile Cambremer in 
 affirm hand. " Now my mind is more easy," said she, as 
 she gave him back the document. 
 
 George was obliged to take it, but he put it down on 
 the table without looking at it. 
 
 " Put it carefully away, I entreat you," said she, gently. 
 " I want to make sure that it is quite safe. Lock it up 
 in the strong box, where you keep your money." 
 
 To satisfy her, Cransac opened the box, and, taking out
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 227 
 
 the pocket-book he had "brought from the deserted house, 
 was about to put the will in it, when a bell rang loudly 
 outside. Cransac started, and remained standing per- 
 fectly still, with the paper in his hand which Cecile had 
 just written and signed, and to which he attached no 
 importance. He could not comprehend the sudden feel- 
 ing that had induced the poor girl to persist so strenu- 
 ously in her design, and he was in no hurry to put away 
 the document securely, in the damp pocket-book which 
 he had just taken out of his strong box. He had not 
 even noticed that Cecile's eyes had never quitted the 
 pocket-book from the moment she had first caught sight 
 of it, and they still remained fixed on it when he placed 
 it on the table. "Why did she look on it with such eager- 
 ness ? No doubt she would have told George the reason 
 when Josephine came hastily into the room and 
 announced: 
 
 "M. Paul .Valbrec." 
 
 Without taking the time to put away the pocket book 
 or the will, George advanced to greet this faithful friend, 
 who had followed the litter upon which lay the inanimate 
 body of Cecile the night before. 
 
 Valbrec appeared to be in deep thought, and after ask- 
 ing Cecile how she was, turned abruptly to George, and 
 said: " I have just seen Saintonge." 
 
 " Saintonge ? " repeated George, who had forgotten the 
 name of the reporter. 
 
 " Yes, Saintonge who you met at our office yesterday. 
 Do you know what has been going on to-day in the house 
 you bought ? " 
 
 " How should I know ? " stammered George, greatly 
 agitated. 
 
 " They have found a hidden treasure amounting to two 
 millions, and the dead body of a man." 
 
 "A dead body?" 
 
 "Exactly so; and they have captured an escaped con- 
 vict." 
 
 " Well, what has all that to do with me ? " asked George, 
 affecting an air of indifference. 
 
 " That is not all," continued Valbrec, coldly. "I have 
 seen Lourdier." 
 
 "Well."
 
 228 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 " He came and woke me up with the news that you 
 were going to be examined before a magistrate." 
 
 " I ! " 
 
 "Yes, you; Lourdier was ' compelled to tell the magis- 
 trate that he had sold you the property on the Hill of 
 Montmartre, and he saw at once that it was suspected that 
 you had bought it because you knew that there was an 
 immense sum of money hidden there; a sum of money 
 which had been stolen from a banker seven years ago, as 
 you know. Saintonge spoke of the matter yesterday 
 before you." 
 
 " Yes, I recollect, but " 
 
 " You are about to say that this has nothing to do with 
 you ; but for all that, the police authorities are on tho 
 lookout for you, and you would have already have been 
 found had not Lourdier had the sense to tell them thali 
 you were staving at the Grand Hotel; but for all that, ii 
 will not be long before they know your true address. 1 
 also expect to be summoned to give evidence regarding 
 your antecedents, and," concluded Valbrec, looking his: 
 friend straight in the face, " I thought it best to warn 
 you of what was going on, because well, because if you 
 felt it necessary you might get out of the way." 
 
 George, who began to lose his self-command, com- 
 menced to equivocate. " Do they accuse me of having 
 robbed a banker seven years ago ? Why, they must be 
 jesting 1 I had hardly left school then." 
 
 " Certainly, but it is best for you to know all. I am 
 telling you what they said to Lourdier, and he knew no 
 more, but Saintonge heard something besides. He was 
 present when the convict who had been captured there 
 was examined, and the man asserted that when he was at 
 Mazas, before his trial, about the end of November, he 
 had thrown over the wall of the exercise-ground, to 
 another prisoner, a note, in which was pointed out the 
 hiding-place of a sum of money which he had stolen some 
 time before, nearly two millions a good round sum, eh ? 
 The convict was not able to tell either the name or the 
 appearance of the prisoner to whom he had thrown the 
 note, but the prison register contains the names and des- 
 cription of all those who have been confined there, and 
 the authorities are going to consult it; perhaps this has 
 been done already."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 229 
 
 Cransac's legs trembled beneath him, and his pallor 
 was evidence of his conscious guilt. " Now you know 
 all," continued Valbrec, coldly. " It is for you to con- 
 sider the best way of acting. You were a prisoner in 
 Mazas at the end of November, but of course that does 
 not prove that the convict made you his confidant. You 
 bought a house and ground at Montmartre, but that is 
 only presumptive evidence against you. I have done all 
 I can in telling you how matters stand. Now examine 
 your own conscience. If you have nothing to reproach 
 yourself with, fight tooth and nail, but if it is the other 
 way, I have no advice to give you." 
 
 " Because you do not like to advise me to blow out my 
 brains." 
 
 "I say nothing; and, lest anyone should say that I 
 refused to give you a last piece of advice, I recommend 
 you to put that pocket book out of the way, for one is 
 missing from the hiding-place in which they found the 
 rest of the millions, and if those who are in search of you 
 should come here now, they will ask you where you got it 
 from." 
 
 " The pocket book is mine," said Cecile. 
 
 Valbrec had forgotten that she was there; he turned 
 quickly round, and the words, " It is false," were on his 
 lips, but he pitied her and remained silent. 
 
 " Yes," continued she, with a boldness that took him 
 by surprise. " It belongs to me of right, and I can prove 
 it to you." 
 
 " It is not to me that you will have to prove it." 
 
 " I will prove it to anyone who ventures to accuse 
 George, and if you wish to know how it came into my 
 possession, ask your friend where it was that he first met 
 me." 
 
 Valbrec did not understand what she meant, but 
 George guessed that the heroic girl was accusing herself 
 in order to save him, and vowed to himself that he would 
 not accept such a sacrifice. 
 
 " Speak," continued she. " Is it not true that -you 
 found me one night in the deserted house in the Bue 
 Gabrielle, into which you had gone by chance ? " But 
 Cransac had not the time to reply to her question, for 
 again the bell rang loudly. A treatise might be written 
 on the various sounds of front door bells. The ring of
 
 230 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 the man who asks a favor is different from that of a 
 creditor, and that of a commissary of police resembles 
 no other in existence. 
 
 " The deuce ! " muttered Valbrec between his teeth, 
 for he guessed the reason of the sound. " I have come 
 too late, or else too soon." 
 
 Voices were now heard in the ante-chamber. 
 
 Cransac made a step toward the window, but he had 
 not time to throw it open, or his brains would have been 
 scattered on the pavement 
 
 The sub-inspector of detectives entered, followed by 
 two subordinates, and said in a harsh voice : " Let no one 
 stir. Which of you is George Cransac ? " 
 
 " I am," answered the unfortunate young man. 
 
 " And you, sir, who are you ? " 
 
 " My name is Valbrec, and I am " 
 
 " I know your profession, but I have nothing to do 
 with you at present; but stay here, I may have to talk to 
 you presently." Then turning to Cecile, he asked ? "Are 
 you living with Cransac ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the injured girl, without a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 The woman who opened the door to us is in your em- 
 ploy?" 
 
 " She is." 
 
 " Don't let her leave the house," said the sub-inspector 
 to his two men. " Remain in the ante-room; open to any- 
 one who rings, and ask their names, which you will report 
 to me." 
 
 The detectives left the room, and closed the door, 
 whilst their superior officer remained in the room with 
 Cecile, George and Valbrec. 
 
 George was standing near the window, Valbrec was 
 leaning against the table, and Cecile was propped up in 
 bed by the pillows. The detective took the seat which no 
 one had offered to him, and pointed out another to Val- 
 brec, who did not take advantage of the permission to 
 sit down, and at once began to question George. 
 "I have a warrant against you, but before executing it I 
 have some questions to put to you regarding certain facts 
 with which no doubt you are acquainted, since your friend, 
 M. Valbrec, reached here before me. He learned them 
 from a reporter connected with his paper, and has most
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 231 
 
 likely repeated them to you. I could not get here sooner, 
 though I have spent all the morning in looking for you." 
 
 " I have not hidden myself," returned George. 
 
 " That may be, but you left the Grand Hotel, and did 
 not say where you were going." 
 
 " All my friends knew where I lived, and that I was only 
 staying at the Grand Hotel as a temporary measure." 
 
 " I know that, and will come to that ^presently. You 
 know what you are accused of." 
 
 "I am waiting to know." 
 
 " You are accused of robbery and murder." 
 
 "Nothing more?" 
 
 " I will begin at the commencement. Last November, 
 you were arrested and confined in Mazas on suspicion of 
 forgery." 
 
 "I was; but my innocence was established, and I was 
 released." 
 
 " Discharged for want of sufficient evidence to convict; 
 that does not mean that you were not guilty; but let us 
 proceed. During your imprisonment at Mazas, you 
 received a note from one of the other prisoners, who threw 
 it to you over the wall of the exercise-ground." 
 
 George remained silent, and the detective continued: 
 " The man who wrote it has been arrested and has con- 
 fessed everything. But he could not point you out, because 
 he had never seen you. But your detention at Mazas 
 coincides with the time that he was there, before appear- 
 ing before the Court of Assizes, and you were in the same 
 part of the prison as he was." 
 
 " I have nothing to say." 
 
 " You will not answer ? It is of no importance, for I 
 have no need of your confession, as I have plenty of proofs 
 without your doing so. You were almost penniless when 
 you came out, but all at once your position underwent a 
 change. You were absent for a time, and your absence 
 has not yet been explained, and afterwards, instead of 
 returning home, you took expensive rooms in the Grand 
 Hotel. You played heavily and paid your losses, and 
 went into other extravagances. The broker who employed 
 you would do so no longer; from whence then did you 
 draw your money? Evidently from the hiding-place 
 which the prisoner had pointed out to you, and which 
 you did not empty because sufficient time was not per-
 
 232 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 mitted you to do so; but to be able to do so more 
 at your ease, you bought the house, where this morning 
 we found but I will not enter into details with which 
 you must be well acquainted. As for the murder, I 
 shall content myself by saying that in the garden of the 
 property you had purchased the body of a man was 
 picked up, who had been killed by a blow on the head, 
 and this man was one of them who took part in the rob- 
 bery of 1877, from a banker's in the Faubourg Pois- 
 soniere, the proceeds of which were hidden at the time 
 in the house for which you paid cash some three weeks 
 back. It is most natural to suppose that having met 
 Mahossier, who was coming to the house with the same 
 intention as yourself, you killed him sooner than divide 
 the plunder. But this matter will be inquired into later 
 on, at present we are only dealing with the robbery. 
 You took away a great deal of gold we know the 
 amount and three hundred and fifty-six thousand francs 
 in banknotes. What have you done with this money ? 
 If you refuse to tell me, I know well enough where 
 to look for it, and shall commence by searching your 
 rooms." 
 
 " The search won't be a long one," thought Valbrec; 
 " the notes are in that pocket book, which I can feel 
 behind me on the table. If I shift my position it will 
 be in sight before the policeman's very eyes. It 
 is too stupid of Cransac; he had better confess every- 
 thing."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 A WOMAN'S DEVOTION. 
 
 THB silence that followed the conclusion of the detec- 
 tive's statement was broken by the clear voice of Cecile; 
 "You need institute no search, sir; it is I who took the 
 money that is deficient, as I will explain to you." 
 
 The detective glanced at her disdainfully. " "Why do 
 you interfere ? " said he. " I have permitted you to re- 
 main in the room because you are hurt, so the porter 
 told me, but if you do not keep quiet, I will have you 
 taken to the hospital." 
 
 " You may do so, but you cannot prevent my telling 
 the truth. I repeat that I discovered the hiding-place, 
 and took the money, a great deal of the money." 
 
 " Why don't you say at once while you are about it 
 that you killed Mahossier too." 
 
 " Because if I said that I should not be speaking the 
 truth. I do not know who killed the man, but I know 
 that I took away the packets of gold and the bank- 
 notes." 
 
 " She is mad," muttered Valbrec. 
 
 "Good," said the sub-inspector; "I understand it all. 
 You want to make me believe that your lover is as inno- 
 cent as a child, and that you did it all. I have seldom 
 seen so much devotion, but unfortunately your little 
 story is wanting in common sense. Suppose I admit 
 that you were Cransac's accomplice, doubtless he had no 
 secrets from you, and gave you his entire confidence, 
 regarding his discovery which he had made in Mazas, 
 which is not a prison for women. Just kindly tell me 
 how you could otherwise have guessed that there was a 
 treasure hidden behind a plate in a chimney in a house 
 in which you had probably never been before you went 
 there with the accused." 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir. I have known the house from 
 my childhood, and I have always imagined that the actors 
 in the robbery of 1877 had hidden the stolen money 
 there. I sought for it for a long time, and at last, by 
 chance, I hit upon the right spot."
 
 234 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "A wonderful chance indeed; but even if we suppose 
 that Cransac had nothing to do with it, you told him of 
 your find, I suppose ?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " Then lie is your accomplice, and it does not make his 
 position a bit better; he has helped you to spend the 
 money that you assert you took ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I employed a portion of it in paying my debts. 
 I had a manufactory of artificial flowers, which was not 
 a success." 
 
 " Oh, I daresay you have not spent it all in this short 
 time, although your friend certainly eat his share of the 
 cake. You don't get through some hundreds of thou- 
 sands of francs in six weeks, especially when you live on 
 a third floor, and keep no establishment. But you were 
 both going to launch out, and I expect would soon have 
 Tun through it. Where is what is left ?" 
 
 " Here in this room, and I beg that you will take it." 
 
 " Begin then by giving it to me, if you want me to 
 believe in all these fairy tales that you have been telling 
 me for the last quarter of an hour." 
 
 " The gold is in that strong box, which is open over 
 there, and the notes are in the pocket-book on^the table 
 behind M. Valbrec." 
 
 The detective officer rose quickly to his feet, pushed 
 aside the journalist who hid the object from him, put his 
 hand inside, and drew out a thick packet of bank-notes. 
 " They are still wet," said he, feeling them, " and the 
 leather of the pocket-book is all mildewed. It is the 
 same one that was stolen in 1877, for the banker's initials 
 are still legible on it, the same that were on the buttons 
 of the livery of the bank messenger, whose skeleton we 
 found at the bottom of the hiding-place." 
 
 At this moment the four actors of this drama formed 
 what is called in theatrical parlance a " tableau." The 
 detective was handling the notes; Valbrec stupified with 
 astonishment; Cransac with consternation; Cecil e had 
 raised herself up in her bed, and was gazing on the scene 
 with large black eyes which gleamed with the light of 
 fever. 
 
 Valbrec no longer doubted her madness, and Cransac, 
 with a bitter pang, felt that she was rushing onwards to 
 destruction in seeking to save him, and was preparing
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 235 
 
 to contradict her self-accusations, but he waited to do so 
 until she had related how she had discovered the hiding- 
 place. The detective without letting go the pocket book, 
 went straight to the strong-box, and seeing the piles of 
 gold, remarked coldly; " That is right; they are all 
 wrapped up in green paper, like the others, and evidently 
 came from the same source." 
 
 Then turning to Cecile, he added: " If you really took 
 them, do you mean to tell me that the accused did not 
 help you, for no woman could have carried these?" 
 
 " He did help me," replied Cecile, boldly. 
 
 " Then you confess that he is as guilty as you are ?" 
 
 " Guilty of what ?" 
 
 " Of vobbery, to be sure. Do you think, by any chance, 
 that you had the right to take possession of this money 
 under the pretext that it did not belong to anyone ? You 
 are too clever to believe anything of the kind; and even 
 had you believed it, you would have been guilty of a 
 misdemeanor all the same, the same as people who pick 
 up a purse in the public streets and do not take it to the 
 police office." 
 
 " No, sir, I knew perfectly well to whom the two mill- 
 ions belonged, for I am better acquainted with the story 
 than you are, for that robbery was the ruin of an honest 
 man seven years ago." 
 
 " The banker of the Faubourg Poissoniere ? " sneered 
 the detective. " Do you mean to tell me that you propose 
 to give him back those two millions ? " 
 
 " Not to him, for he killed himself, being unable to sur- 
 vive the dishonor of his bankruptcy." 
 
 "You are wonderfully well informed; you wish, per- 
 haps, to hand over these two millions amongst his 
 creditors ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, to the last sous that is owing; but tnat does 
 not amount to two millions." 
 
 " And you intended to keep the rest as a recompense 
 for having discovered the treasure. This is really too 
 delightful, only I think that you had better not tell the 
 magistrate before whom you will have to appear, this 
 pretty story." 
 
 " I shall content myself with telling him that I am M. 
 Benedict Cambremer's heiress." 
 
 " This is getting -better and better. Certainly these
 
 236 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 were the names of the banker who was robbed his 
 initials are still legible on the pocketbook that I hold 
 in my hand; but I should much like to see the will under 
 which you inherit his fortune, if he had any left after his 
 bankruptcy." 
 
 " He made no will; why should he, since I am his only 
 child?" 
 
 " You ! his daughter absurd ! " 
 
 " My certificate of birth is at my own house, 22, Avenue 
 de Laumiere, and also of my mother who died in bring- 
 ing me into the world; besides, I have always borne my 
 own name. In my own part of the town, where I have lived 
 for the last four years, before I met M. Cransac, every 
 one knows me as Cecile Cambremer, and the good 
 woman who opened the door to you will tell you that 
 she knew me as a child when my father was still 
 alive." 
 
 " And yet it is only just now that you speak of this 
 father, and claim your inheritance." 
 
 " To whom should I have spoken of it ? When mis- 
 fortune overtook him his friends forsook him, and his 
 creditors turned me out of house and home. I had to 
 gain my living by the toil of my hands. My sole desire 
 was to be forgotten, and in this I succeeded, as you 
 were ignorant even that I existed." 
 
 Her replies had some weight with the detective, but 
 he was not entirely convinced that she was not endeav- 
 oring to shield her lover, for after a short pause he said: 
 " Your assertions shall be put to the proof to-day. In 
 the meantime, however, you must explain to me how 
 you laid hand on the treasure which you allege belongs 
 to you. Were you aware that it was hidden at Mont- 
 martre in a deserted house? " 
 
 "No, sir; but this house had belonged to my father, 
 who often took me there in my childhood. It recalled 
 to me remembrances which were very dear to me, and I 
 loved to gaze upon the garden in which I had spent 
 my childish hours. One day I met M. Cransac 
 there " 
 
 " What was he doing there ? " interrupted the de- 
 tective, quickly; " he had not the same motives as you 
 had, to come and wander about in such a neglected 
 spot."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 237 
 
 " He had come out of mere curiosity to prove whether 
 the convict had spoken the truth or not." 
 
 " "What ! he told you on the very first' day he met you 
 that he had just been released from Mazas ? " 
 
 " Not on that day. I was fairly desperate, and had 
 made up my mind to die. I told hiin.all my sorrows; he 
 consoled me, he helped me, aided me, and how could I 
 help loving him in return ? Then, some little time after 
 that, I spoke to him of the robbery of which my father 
 had been the victim, upon which he showed me the letter 
 which he had received in Mazas. It was like a ray of 
 light to me. I entreated him to take me to the ruined 
 house, and he had not the courage to refuse my prayer. 
 We went there after dark " 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 "About eight days ago. George had never given 
 another thought of the hiding-place, but when he learnt 
 that the money concealed in it had been stolen from my 
 father he consented to go there with me. The robber had 
 spoken the truth. We found the treasure; and the initials 
 on the pocket-book, which you hold in your hand, proved 
 that the gold and notes belonged to my father." 
 
 " That was no reason to take possession of them, for 
 you know that your father had left many creditors behind 
 him; your duty was to have given notice to the commis- 
 sary of police of the district, who would have proceeded 
 in due form. The money would have been paid into the 
 Government treasury, and your claims would have been 
 inquired into later on." 
 
 " That is what George advised me to do, and I alone am 
 responsible for the removal of it. I have spent some 
 thousands of francs for my personal wants, but I am sure 
 that, after all claims against my father's estate have been 
 satisfied, a large surplus will remain at my disposal. I 
 had decided to make a proper declaration; George, 
 indeed, had reproached me for delaying it so long, but I 
 did not know the proper quarter to go to ; and yesterday, 
 when I so narrowly escaped death, my first thought was 
 to make my will, and there it is on that table. By it I 
 have instituted M. George Cransac my residuary legatee, 
 not only because he saved my life, but because he would do 
 all that was necessary in seeing that all the creditors of my 
 father were paid, and that he \vould report the existence
 
 238 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 of the concealed treasure in the proper quarter. That, 
 sir, is the truth, and the whole truth, and M. Cransac 
 cannot contradict it." 
 
 " I should think that he would take good care not to do 
 so; but why did you begin by telling me that you had 
 discovered the money by chance whilst walking about 
 Montmartre ? " 
 
 " Because I did not wish to bring in the name of a man 
 that I love more than anyone in this world. Now you 
 know all, and I place my fate in your hands. Do with 
 me as you will, but do not accuse George unjustly. He 
 has nothing on earth to reproach himself with except in 
 having yielded to my entreaties instead of having followed 
 his first impulse. Had he not met me he would doubtless 
 have sought for the treasure, but had he found it he 
 would have reported its existence on the spot of that I 
 am quite certain." 
 
 Without making any reply to Cecile's fervent entreaties, 
 the sub-inspector placed the pocket-book in the strong 
 box, which he locked, putting the key in his pocket, and 
 then took from the table the paper upon which the 
 wounded girl had inscribed her last wishes. " Yes," said 
 he, after having read it at a single glance, " this is the 
 will which you were so strangely prompted to write just 
 before I came in, and which, I suppose, you left on the 
 table for my inspection." 
 
 " When I wrote it," answered Cecile, without flinching, 
 " I was ignorant that you were coming here." 
 
 " Oh ! you knew well enough that I should be here, 
 for M. Valbrec, who got in here in front of me, must 
 have certainly informed you of all that M. Saintonge 
 and M. Lourdier had told him." 
 
 " No, sir. When M. Valbrec came in the will had 
 been already executed, and was on the table where you 
 found it. George was, in accordance with my wish 
 about to put it in the pocket-book, which he had taken 
 out of the strong-box for the purpose, where you have 
 just shut it up, and he had so little intention of hiding 
 it that he never thought of concealing it when his friend 
 came in." 
 
 " That is quite true," said Valbrec, who put no credit 
 in the story told by Cecile, and who believed that she 
 had only invented it for the purpose of screening her
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 239 
 
 loyer; but the fact was that Cransac had given her the 
 cue, for before Valbrec's visit she was entirely ignorant 
 of what had taken place at Montmartre. Certainly, 
 George had spoken to her regarding his detention in 
 Mazas, but he had not said a word of the note he had 
 received from the prisoner whilst he was taking exercise, 
 nor had he said a word of the hidden treasure, or his 
 nocturnal excursions to Montmartre; so that her own 
 ready wit had prompted her to manufacture the tale she 
 had told to the detective with the slender materials at 
 her command. She knew perfectly well that she was 
 the only daughter of Benedict Cambremer, who had been 
 robbed of a sum that greatly exceeded the amount of the 
 claims against him; and she knew that the property had 
 never been recovered, although one of the robbers had 
 been arrested and convicted. She, therefore, had 
 always entertained a hope that son\e day the lost money 
 might come to light, and she had taken it into her head 
 to bequeath any such sum to George after the creditors 
 had been paid in full. She had resolved to tell the 
 whole story of the robbery to George one day, but up to 
 the present he was completely ignorant of the whole 
 matter; for the name of the banker to whom the house 
 at Montmartre had belonged had never been pronounced 
 in his hearing, since Lourdier very likely was ignorant 
 of it, or if he had ever known it, he had forgotten it by 
 this time. 
 
 At the moment when Valbrec rang at the door, Cecile 
 had recognized the initials on the pocketbook, and had at 
 once guessed the source of George's fortune; and the 
 narrative by Valbrec of the search and inquiry that had 
 been made, supplemented as it was by disturbing com- 
 ments, had sufficed to make all clear to her. She had 
 been unable to refrain from exclaiming that the pocket- 
 book was her property, and this imprudent exclamation 
 was but the prelude to a burst of confidence on her part, 
 which the entrance of the detective had interrupted. 
 The sub-inspector had at once flatly accused Cransac, 
 and Cecile resolved to defend her lover by every means 
 in her power. She had at first hit upon no better course 
 than to declare that she only Lad found the treasure, 
 and that she alone was responsible for the sums that had 
 been taken from it. But, pressed as she had been by a
 
 24:0 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 skillfully-conducted series of questions, Cecile soon per- 
 ceived that she had made a false step; and, suddenly 
 changing her tactics, she made up her mind to declare 
 that she was the banker's heiress, and that ever since 
 her father's death she had been in search of the stolen 
 money; and having at last discovered it, she had en- 
 treated George Cransac to aid her in removing it from 
 its hiding-place, and that he had only played a subor- 
 dinate part in the matter, and that against his will. 
 Whilst she improvised this line of argument, she never 
 took her eyes off George, and with every stealthy glance 
 that she cast on him she pleaded to him not to contra- 
 dict her, and she felt almost hurt at not being able to 
 read in her lover's eyes that he would accept this act of 
 devotion at her hands, and was surprised at his not 
 uttering a single word to confirm the statements she had 
 made to prove his innocence. 
 
 But George's heart was rent by two opposing feelings: 
 the fear of injuring Cecile by contradicting the statements 
 she had made, and the desire of taking his share of the 
 responsibility in the acts for which they were both to be 
 arraigned. He was weary of giving evasive answers to 
 the questions put to him by the detective officer, and it 
 was repugnant to his feelings to benefit by the self-sacri- 
 ficing falsehoods of Cecile ; and had he not been afraid 
 of aggravating her position, he would have avowed the 
 whole truth at once, however strange his tardy confession 
 might appear. The sub-inspector, who was not deficient 
 in sagacity, had partially guessed the position of affairs, 
 and felt that he should draw nothing from a woman who 
 was resolute in her defense of the man she adored; so, 
 instead of pressing her with any further questions, he 
 turned again to George Cransac. 
 
 " Your mistress is an excellent special pleader," said he, 
 with a half smile, "but we are not yet before a jury, and 
 it is for you to justify your own acts, which at present 
 you have not attempted to do. Up to this time you have 
 let her do all the talking, but now the moment has arrived 
 for 3 ou to explain yourself." 
 
 " Question me, and I will reply," answered Cransac, 
 shortly. 
 
 " I hope you will, and it is in your interest that I do 
 so. It may be that the lady is the dau ghter of M. Cam-
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 241 
 
 bremer, the banker, and that things may have happened 
 as she says." It was the first time in the course of the 
 conversation that he had referred to Cecile as a lady. 
 " But it is necessary that you should confirm her state- 
 ment. Is it correct ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Cransac. Then, after a moment's hesi- 
 tation, he added: " Only she has not told all 1" 
 
 " Complete her statement, then," said the detective. 
 
 " I killed the man !" said George, resolutely." 
 
 " I had but little doubt on the subject, but you have 
 done well to confess it, and it will be considered in your 
 favor. I can now understand why the lady said nothing 
 about the murder." 
 
 " She knew nothing of it." 
 
 "What was she not present?" 
 
 " No, sir; and you can easily understand that I said 
 nothing to her on the subject. I went to Montmartre that 
 night alone. Just as I left the house, I was attacked in 
 the garden close to the terrace by a man, who would cer- 
 tainly have killed me had I not struck him down with a 
 blow of my stick." 
 
 " Then you assert that the blow was struck in self- 
 defence ?" 
 
 " I received a stab from a knife right in my breast. 
 
 "Rather a blunt knife, I expect, for you were not 
 wounded, I presume." 
 
 " The point of the knife was stopped by the pocket book 
 which I had taken from the hiding-place, and had put 
 inside my waistcoat. You can see the perforation in it 
 now, if you will examine it." 
 
 "It shall be examined. Why did this man attack 
 you?" 
 
 "Because he had seen me open the plate in the chimney 
 and take out the gold. You tell me now that this is the 
 man who seven years ago, robbed M. Cambremer's bank. 
 He had been released from prison, and hoped to find the 
 treasure untouched, and when he surprised me kneeling 
 before its hiding-place the idea of putting me out of the 
 way naturally occurred to him. He had crept into the 
 garden and climbed up to the window. I caught sight 
 of him, and he fled into the darkness to wait for me in 
 the walk on the right, and I killed him in self-defence;
 
 242 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 and since I have learned what a villian he was, I do not 
 regret having done so." 
 
 Overwhelmed by this news Cecile listened to him with 
 a kind of feverish anxiety. She did not doubt for a 
 moment that he was speaking the truth, and she asked 
 herself whether the sub-inspector would think the same, 
 and from the expression of his face she thought that he 
 did so. All that now remained was to await his decision 
 upon both their cases and to see if he would order George's 
 immediate despatch to the House of Detention. She 
 flattered herself that he was going to leave her at liberty, 
 and she awaited his fiat with the deepest anxiety. 
 
 The sub-inspector was in no hurry to reply. He was 
 reflecting upon the informal way in which he had gone 
 to work to obtain these confessions, and regretted that he 
 had not examined George and Cecile separately. Carried 
 away by the excitement and interest of the dialogue, he 
 perceived too late that all Cransac had to do was to coni- 
 form his answers to the statements made by Cecile. 
 However, as he was not deficient in experience and good 
 sense, he saw that there was no remedy for the harm that 
 had been done, and besides, he began to think that the 
 matter was not so serious as he had at first supposed it 
 to be. He certainly suspected that Cecile and George 
 had tacitly arranged matters between ihem during the 
 examination, but the former had certainly not invented 
 the story of her right to the money that had been 
 stolen from her father. These assertions were very easy to 
 verify, and if she were really the next-of-kin to the banker, 
 the fact of her having taken a portion of the treasure to 
 which she was legitimately entitled would not constitute 
 a robbery in the full acceptation of the word; at any rate, 
 there would be extenuating circumstances. Then the 
 murder of the man called Mahossier was not a very great 
 offence if as seemed most probable, Cransac had struck 
 him down in mere self-defence. 
 
 Valbrec, who had played the part of a mute listener, 
 looked on matters in nearly a similar manner; but then 
 he had no voice in the case, although his evidence might 
 be heard later on. The sub-inspector, who had been 
 charged with the preliminary inquiry, had resolved to 
 take the only course open to him that is to say, to con- 
 duct George to the office of the examining magistrate,
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 243 
 
 and to leave his two subordinates behind him to watch over 
 the strong box in which he had put back the pocket-book 
 containing the bank-notes, and also over Cecile, though 
 her condition entirely prevented her from attempting to 
 make her escape, for her long examination had almost 
 worn her out. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXL 
 
 TBOTJILLAKD'S DAUGHTEB. 
 
 THE sub-inspector was about to issue orders to this 
 effect when a great disturbance was heard in the ante- 
 room; slamming of doors, scuffling of feet, and a violent 
 altercation between several persons, the voice of one of 
 whom a woman's rose high above the others, and it 
 was not the voice of Josephine Bureau, who had been 
 sent back to her kitchen three-quarters of an hour 
 ago. 
 
 A woman burst violently into the room a woman 
 whom no one at first recognized, for she was closely 
 veiled : but she soon displayed a countenance of singular 
 beauty, of a bold and masculine type, and exclaimed: "I 
 say, are the traps here ? Those long-legged fellows 
 wanted to stop my coming in. All the worse for them. 
 I knocked them about right and left. Here I am ! I 
 came to see you, little lady, and to ask you to forgive 
 Pasha, my black-maned lion, who bit you yesterday. It 
 was not his fault, on the word of Cornelian, and I have 
 kicked out that brute Goliath, who shoved you against 
 the cage." 
 
 The sub-inspector checked this flow of words by saying 
 severely: " In the first place, who are you, and what do 
 you want?" 
 
 " And who are you, may I ask ? " retorted the mistress 
 of the lions, who was not easily alarmed. 
 
 " I am a sub-inspector of the detective department, 
 and I have the right to question you as much as I 
 like." 
 
 " Ah, then you are the chief of the traps in the ante- 
 room, are you ? Well, I can't compliment you on their 
 manners; but I ain't a bit afraid of you, for I have a clean
 
 244: THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 sheet to show. These gentleman know me, and M. 
 Valbrec, who writes in the paper, can tell you that I am 
 an actress engaged at the Porte Saint Martin Theatre, 
 with all my beasts." 
 
 The detective was half inclined to have her turned out, 
 but though he had not said a word to Cecile on the 
 matter, he had read the police report of the accident to 
 her of the night before, and he wished to learn more on 
 a subject which might be a future subject of inquiry. 
 Nothing is beneath the attention of a detective, who by 
 a mere fluke may often pick up some useful information. 
 He therefore decided to hear what Cornelian had to say, 
 who still continued addressing Cecile: "You must be 
 surprised at my coming to see you, and I find M. Cransac 
 is the more surprised of the two, for he is looking very 
 savagely at me, and he has probably told you that I 
 hated you mortally on his account." Cecile did not 
 understand her, for George had never said a word to her 
 either about Cornelian or her violent method of making 
 love. "Well," continued she, "that was true enough 
 yesterday, but it is all over now. I should have been 
 regularly knocked over if Pasha had finished you, and 
 the proof is that I took you out of his claws, and have 
 come to see how you were getting on. The doctor told 
 me this morning that you had been brought here, and I 
 am awfully glad of it, for now I am sure you will get 
 over it. 1 can see it in your face. Lor' bless you, bites 
 and scratches are quite in my line, and I'll lay my life 
 you'll be on your feet again shortly; and it will be a good 
 thing, for you are a great deal too young and too pretty 
 to end as I shall one day or another. It is my business 
 to be eaten, but I don't want my beasts to eat any one 
 else. And now, whilst I am here, I want to tell you all 
 that I have on my mind." 
 
 Valbrec could not help smiling at the incoherent speech 
 of this charmer of beasts and men ; and George, in great 
 anxiety, wondered what on earth she was going to say. 
 
 " I must first," said Cornelian, " expose the vileness of a 
 woman who you don't know, and a rogue you know only 
 too well. Troche and Taupier have sold you, without 
 your leave or license, my little dear." 
 
 " Troche ! " repeated George, who had some vague re- 
 collection of having heard the name somewhere.
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 245 
 
 "Yes, Arthur Troche, the villian who made love to you. 
 I suppose you told him " and she pointed to George 
 " of all that, but what he doesn't know is, that that same 
 fine Arthur ought to have gone to Mazas in his place. 
 The rogue tried to get on with me, because his Juliet 
 hasn't got two sous to rub together, and I amused myself 
 by making him talk. I can tell you he let out some 
 queer things." 
 
 The sub-inspector was all attention now, for in con- 
 sulting the prison register he found that George had been 
 set at liberty in default of sufficient evidence to warrant 
 his being committed for trial, and that the examining 
 magistrate had expressed his opinion that it was a case 
 of mistaken identity, and that there must be some one in 
 Paris who greatly resembled him. He also remembered 
 that a man named Troche had been wanted by 
 the police for various swindles, but that for some months 
 past they had lost all trace of him. 
 
 " You don't want me to believe," said he, turning to 
 Cornelian, "that this man has boasted to you of his 
 crimes." 
 
 " Crimes !" repeated she. "Not such a fool as that; 
 he only said that he had played a trick on the traps, and 
 that he would play them many another before he had 
 done with them. Then he began talking of M. Cransac, 
 who had been quodded on suspicion of forgery, and 
 then I, who knew my gentleman, guessed the answer to 
 the whole bag of tricks." 
 
 " And what was it ? " 
 
 " It was that those who swore to M. Cransac, took him 
 for that hound of an Arthur, who is as like him as two 
 peas, especially since Arthur has let his whiskers sprout 
 again, for he cut them off after cashing the forged paper. 
 Ah ! he is a rogue and a boaster, but he came to the 
 wrong shop when he boasted of it to me, and, as you say 
 you are one of the force, I hope you will nab him. It 
 was a precious lucky thing for you all, it seems, that I 
 came here this morning." 
 
 Cecile was of the same opinion, and in her heart she 
 blessed Cornelian, although it had wounded her deeply 
 to hear the name of the man upon whom she had so 
 foolishly lavished the blossom of her first love, mentioned 
 before George.
 
 246 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 The sub-inspector was also rejoiced at Cornelian's 
 visit, for he saw his way to profit by her information, and 
 to lay hands upon a rogue who has laughed at the police 
 for so long. 
 
 " Where does this man Troche live ? " 
 
 " That I can't tell you," answered she. "He has been 
 once or twice to wait for me at the stage door, and has 
 tried to spoon me again, but I sent him off with a flea in 
 his ear, so I hardly cared to ask his address. "Why 
 should I? I wasn't going to leave a card on him, and 
 those kind of people generally live in no man's land." 
 
 " But he doesn't sleep under the dry arches of the 
 bridges, I suppose. Everybody has some kind of 
 home." 
 
 " Well, he used to hang about at Juliet's, but for the 
 last few days she has been on the streets, and I expect 
 her creditors would have showed him the door; but you 
 may be sure he made a bolt in time, like rats, who, they 
 say, leave a sinking ship." 
 
 " But you have seen him since he left that girl, and I 
 suppose he told you some of his business ? " 
 
 "He said that he was doing some dirty work for a 
 foreigner in the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne, Marquis 
 the G-eneral Simancas. Arthur rolled out mouthfuls 
 about this Spaniard; but I have an idea that he ain't up 
 to much, this supposed general." 
 
 "Never mind what he is," returned the detective; "we 
 shall learn from him where this Troche lives, and I'll have 
 him looked after at once. Are you ready to give evidence 
 before a magistrate ? " 
 
 " Whenever you like." 
 
 " It may be to-day; where do you live ? " 
 
 " Since I have been playing at the Porte Saint Martin 
 I have taken a furnished room at 29, RuedeLancy; before 
 that I lived in the menagerie with the other beasts." 
 
 " Are you living alone ? " 
 
 " What a blessed foolish question ! No, no, I don't like 
 double harness; I am too fond of my liberty for that." 
 
 "Very good: now your name, if you please ?" 
 
 " Cornelian, of course; it is well enough known, and is 
 printed in whacking big letters on the posters." 
 
 " Cornelian is evidently an assumed name. I want your 
 real one the one in your certificate of birth."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 247 
 
 "Euphemia, then; I never liked it a bit, and changed it 
 when I began to work the fair racket." 
 
 "Euphemia; that is your Christian name. I want to 
 know your surname." 
 
 " Oh ! I never make use of that." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " "Well, I ain't over proud of it; first, because it ain't a 
 pretty one, and then " 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "Well, it is no good hiding things from you. You 
 belong to the traps, and will know everything sooner or 
 later, even if I refuse to tell you now. Well, the old man 
 took our name into all sorts of bad places, and I never 
 did any harm myself." 
 
 " Go on, you can't help your father's faults. What is 
 your name ? " 
 
 " Euphemia Trouillard." 
 
 " Trouillard ! " repeated the sub-inspector. " Are you 
 Pierre Trouillard's daughter ? " 
 
 "Yes, lam." 
 
 " Do you know where your father is ? " 
 
 " No, but I can precious well guess. I may as well tell 
 you his history and mine at once, and then the beaks 
 won't bother me any more. This is it : He was an engi- 
 neer by trade, and made his fifteen francs per day. My 
 mother worked hard too, and so I was brought up like a 
 little queen. I was twelve when she died. Then the old man 
 took to lushing; he'd come home as screwed as a boiled 
 owl every night, and pitch into me like anything. I stood 
 it for three years, but one night he didn't come back, for 
 he had got locked up, I never knew why. Well, then I 
 found myself on my own hook, with one dress to my back, 
 and nothing to stick my teeth into. Of course it ended 
 like such things always end." 
 
 "You took a lover?" 
 
 " Yes; I knew a chap that went round the fairs with a 
 cart-load of beasts. He proposed that I should go with 
 him, and learn his business. I went off, and we paddled 
 our own canoe together, until a black panther finished him 
 up; but he had time to make his will, and he left me th 
 menagerie, which was worth money. Now I want no one, 
 and do as I like; but if the old 'un knew it "
 
 248 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 "He would try to live on you; but don't be afraid 
 he will have board and lodging for the rest of his life." 
 
 "Oh! I understand; he is a lifer. All the worse for 
 him; he shouldn't have done it. "Well, I can't do any- 
 thing." 
 
 " Then don't you want to see him ? " 
 
 ' Not I, it wouldn't be over cheerful ; but as I have 
 the ill luck to be his daughter I'll send him a hundred 
 francs a month when once he is across the water. He 
 will be pleased, and so shall I that is, to have got rid of 
 him." 
 
 This cynical speech had no effect upon the sub-in- 
 spector, for he had heard many such. " Very well," 
 returned he, " you shan't be confronted with him before 
 he is sent away, but you certainly will be with Troche 
 as soon as he is caught. You may go now if you 
 like." 
 
 The Lion Queen was glad enough to do so; not that 
 she repented the good impulse which had urged her to 
 go and inquire after Cecile, and she thought that in 
 denouncing Arthur she had made up for any fault she 
 might have committed, but she was pleased to get out 
 of the hornet's nest of police into which she had thrust 
 her head unconsciously. " Get well quickly, little lady," 
 said she, " and good-bye, all," added she, bowing on all 
 sides, as she was accustomed to do when her perform- 
 ances were concluded. 
 
 When she had left, the sub-inspector, who had now 
 made up his mind, spoke at once. " Sir," said he to 
 Cransac, " I now know all that I wish to know, and I 
 confess that the appearance of the affair is greatly 
 changed. The examining magistrate will estimate the 
 report that I have to make at its proper value, and 
 it is for him to decide your lot. Will you therefore 
 come with me to his office, where he is waiting for 
 
 you?" 
 
 " I am quite ready," answered George, firmly. 
 
 " I shall take away the key of the strong-box, in which 
 I have placed the notes, and Mile. Cambremer's wilL 
 I leave my subordinates behind me to take charge of it. 
 I have a cab waiting, and we will go off alone. It is 
 quite unnecessary for any one in the house to know that 
 you are even temporarily under arrest."
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 249 
 
 These words were of good omen, and Cecile expe- 
 rienced a feeling of relief in hearing them, whilst Val- 
 brec began to hope that his friend would be able 
 to extricate himself from his unpleasant position. 
 
 " May I remain with the lady ? " asked he. 
 
 " I see no objection," answered the detective, whose 
 manner had grown much more polite; "and if M. Cran- 
 sac would like to kiss her before he leaves, I shall not 
 prevent him." 
 
 Cransac at once availed himself of this license and 
 hastened to kiss away the tears that bathed her cheeks, 
 whilst she whispered in his ear: 
 
 " Not a word of contradiction as to what I said, for if 
 you injure yourself I shall die." 
 
 At this supreme moment, when she felt her strength 
 failing her, the sole idea of the noble girl was to save her 
 lover, whom she dreaded never to see again. 
 
 " Come, sir," said George, rising to his feet, " let us 
 
 go-" 
 
 " I shall see you again soon, I hope," cried Valbrec. 
 
 George warmly shook the friendly hand that was 
 extended to him, and left the room with the sub-in- 
 spector of the detective department.
 
 250 IHE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 A YEAR had passed since the events we have recounted, 
 and Paris has forgotten them as quickly as it has others 
 which made an equal noise at the time. They occupied 
 for a short period a space in the papers, and gave several 
 reporters a chance of putting in copy; but they 
 lacked the great dramatic conclusion of the Court of 
 Assizes. 
 
 George Cransac was taken before a clear-sighted mag- 
 istrate, who, after a calm and unbiassed reviewal of the 
 case, decided that there was no necessity to seud him for 
 trial upon either of the offences laid to his charge. It 
 was proved that Cransac, in killing Mahossier, had not 
 exceeded the limits of legitimate self-defence, and the 
 generous declaration of Cecile had considerably weak- 
 ened the case against him of having appropriated any 
 portion of the contents of the hiding-place. The noble 
 girl had taken all upon herself, and it might have gone 
 hard with her, for she had confessed that she had applied 
 to her personal requirements a portion of the sum Which 
 had formerly been stolen from her father before he 
 had settled with his creditors. But, on an inquiry being 
 opened, and the bankrupt's accounts having been again 
 gone into, it was found that his debts only amounted to 
 nine hundred thousand francs, reduced to six hundred 
 thousand by the sale of his property. The result, how- 
 ever was, that'Cecile Cambremer found that after clearing 
 her father's good name, she was left in possession of more 
 than a million. 
 
 Whilst this inquiry was going on, the magistrate had 
 permitted her as a favor, taking into consideration the 
 terrible injuries that she had sustained, to remain in her 
 own house, whilst Cransac, who had only received a blow 
 from the lion's claw, spent fifteen days in Mazas before 
 he was again discharged from want of sufficient evidence; 
 but this time he went forth a perfectly -free man, as far 
 as the accusations of uttering a false check, for his 
 villainous double, Arthur Troche, having been arrested, 
 on the information furnished by the Lion Queen, and 
 recognized by all the witnesses who had formerly given
 
 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 251 
 
 evidence against George Cransac, had ended by confess- 
 ing bis crime, and was sentenced to five years' penal 
 servitude. So that George had suffered a great deal for 
 a crime that he had never committed, and very little for 
 an act of culpable weakness against which his better 
 nature had all along warned him. 
 
 Cecile had made him her heir, so that he might be able 
 to enjoy the fortune which he had been weak enough to 
 use before it was really his. But Cecile was not dead 
 but living, and was only anxious that George should 
 share with her tbe heritage which had come to her from 
 her father. But to do that it was necessary that he 
 should marry her, and this marriage has not yet taken 
 place. Cecile feels that George cannot love her more 
 than he does now, and he, on his part, hesitates to marry 
 her now that she is a great heiress, and is waiting until 
 he shall have something of his own to contribute to their 
 mutual expenses. 
 
 Meanwhile he is working on Yalbrec's paper, who has 
 remained his friend, although he has never learned the 
 whole truth. Valbrec knows the world, and is not too 
 harsh on backsliders. 
 
 Although now a millionaire, Cecile has not abandoned 
 her business, only she no longer works with her own hands. 
 She has given the superintendence over to Josephine 
 Bureau, and the business is going on well. In spite of 
 the sinister prognostications of the doctor, Cecile did not 
 lose her arm, although she underwent several severe and 
 painful operations. George and she loved each other as 
 much as they ever did before the catastrophe overwhelmed 
 them, which threatened at one time to separate them for- 
 ever. Nothing is wanting to their happiness, save wed- 
 lock and one of those tender pledges that unite two fond 
 hearts still more fondly together, and if one of these should 
 come it will be after their union shall been legalized rapidly. 
 
 Cornelian's fortunes have been of a different nature. 
 After a long series of brilliant performances, she won the 
 heart of the Marquis de Sirnancas, who never missed one 
 of them, and who greedily took the bait she held out. 
 This tormentor of the fair sex was seized with a mad pas- 
 sion for the Lion Queen, but he had to lavish showers of 
 gold on her before she would deign to look on him. She 
 finished by yielding at last, and has taken up her residence
 
 252 THE FELON'S BEQUEST. 
 
 in the house in the Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne, 
 where she uses her whip upon him as freely as ever she 
 did upon any of her lious. And this vile man, whoee 
 sole delight was in torturing others, gives in to her, and 
 submits to her caprices and insults in the most slavish 
 manner. Cornelian is unfaithful to him in the most open 
 way with the clown of a circus, and she has forced the 
 marquis to have her menagerie kept in his garden, where 
 she every now and then gives performances to her mounte- 
 bank lover and his friends, at which Simancas is com- 
 pelled to be present. "When she has completely ruined 
 him it is to be hoped that she will have him devoured by 
 her terrible favorites; but until this happens, she contents 
 herself with making the marquis send heavy sums every 
 month to her convict father in Noumea. This old villian 
 was condemned to penal servitude for life, although he 
 completely proved that he was innocent of the murder of 
 the bank messenger; before he left he was reconciled to 
 his daughter, Cornelian, and, thanks to her, his old age 
 will not be an uncomfortable one. Juliet went from bad 
 to worse, and now earns the scanty wages of infamy on 
 the streets; and if she ever comes across Simancas he is 
 not the man to bestow an alms on her. 
 
 Cecile Cambremer has had ample revenge. 
 
 George Cransac has expiated his faults, and his end 
 will be better than his commencement. 
 
 He has never found out who his parents were, nor is it 
 likely that he will ever do so such miracles are rare now- 
 a-days, though it was one that put that noble girl Cecile 
 Cambremer in possession of her father's property. But 
 George will never find his relations; and what need has 
 he of relatives or ancestors, whilst he is happy in the love 
 of his own Cecile ? 
 
 THE END.
 
 STUDIES IN ENGLISH SPELLING. 
 
 FIRST LESSON. 
 
 A wealthy young man had a yacht, 
 Disfigured with many a spacht, 
 SAPOLIO he trisd, 
 Which, as soon as applied, 
 Immediately took out the lacht ! 
 
 SECOND LESSON. 
 
 Our girl o'er the housework would 
 
 sigh, 
 
 Till SAPOLIO I urged her to trigh, 
 Now she changes her tune, 
 For she's done work at nune, 
 Which accounts for the light in her 
 eigh ! 
 
 THIRD LESSON. 
 
 There's many a domestic embroglio 
 To describe which would need quite 
 
 a foglio, 
 
 Might oft be prevented 
 If the housewife consented 
 To clean out the house with SA- 
 POGLIO ! 
 
 FOURTH LESSON. 
 
 Maria's poor fingers would ache, 
 When "the housework in hand s'r. > 
 would tache, 
 
 But her pains were allayed, 
 
 When SAPOLIO'S aid, 
 Her labor quite easy did rnach* J 
 
 FIFTH LESSON. 
 
 We have heard of some *narvelous 
 soaps, 
 
 Whose worth has exceeded our Ii^ ..ps. 
 But it must be confest, 
 That SAPOLIO'S the best 
 
 For with grease spots it easily coaps! 
 
 SIXTH LESSON. 
 
 The wife of ?, poptuar colonel 
 Whose troubles with "helps" were 
 
 etolonel 
 
 Now her leisure enjoys 
 For the " new girl " employs 
 SAPOLIO in housework diolonel! 
 
 INTESTINAL TORPOR AND KINDRED EVILS 
 
 Relieved Without Drugs. 
 
 The sufferer from Constipation and Piles should test the CLUTE'N 8I7PPOSI- 
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 -OREAD THE EVIDENCED 
 
 DR. A. W. THOMPSON, Northampton, Mass., says: 'I have tested the Gluten Supposi- 
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 DR. War. TOD HELMCTH declares the Gluten Suppositories to be " the best remedy for 
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 "AsSancho Pauza said of sleep, so say I of your Gluten Suppositories: God bless 
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 HEALTH FOOp COMP.ANY, 
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 COMMON COMPLAINTS, AND 
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 THE PRACTICAL MACICIAFfl 
 
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 A SCIENTIFIC TREATISE ON 
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 KEY TO COMPOSITION: or.How 
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 FORTUNE-TELLING MADE EASY 
 
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 OUR KNOWLEDGE-BOX; or, old 
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 THE YOUNG WIFE'S OWN 
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 THE FAMILY CYCLOPEDIA. - A 
 
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 THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE: or. 
 
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 ROLLIN'S ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, CARTHAGE- 
 
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 WORKS OF FLAYIUS JOSEPHDS, 
 
 THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS, COMPRISING 
 
 THE ANTIQUITIES OF THE JEWS, A HISTORY OF TH* 
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 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, FROM THE ACCESSION 
 
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 FROISSART'S CHRONICLES. 
 
 CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND, FRANCE, SPAIN, AND 
 
 uscripts. By THOMAS JOHNES, Esq. To which are prefixed a Ufe of the author, 
 an essay on his works, and a criticism on his history, with an original introduc- 
 tory essay on the character and society of the middle ages. By JOHN LoRD,LL.D. 
 Illustrated, imperial, 8vo, double column, cloth. Price $2.50 
 
 This is a work that has been and always will be largely read and admired by the gallant stripling as 
 heartily as by the antiquarian sage. It is the only extensive and credible history that we have of the 
 Pays of Chivalry. Written by one who had himself rode in the lists, armed cap-a-pie, and stood the 
 hock of horse to horse and man to man. This edition, the most perfect one ever issued, is richly illus- 
 tratod by 115 appropriate engravings.
 
 REGIONAL LIBMRm 
 
 A 000127779 7 
 CELEBRATED 
 
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