IE SNATCHED UP A HEAVY BRONZE CANDELABRUM, AND BLANDISHED 
 IT IN THE AIR, CRYING: "THE FIRST WHO APPROACHES IS A DEAD 
 
 MAN!" 
 
THE 
 
 COUNT'S 
 MILLIONS 
 
 Translated from the French of 
 
 EMILE GABORIAU 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 JOHN SLOAN 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 New York 1913 
 
COPYRIGHT, igis, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 :<: : 4 
 
 "i** 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 He snatched up a heavy bronze candelabrum, and 
 brandished it in the air, crying: "The first who 
 approaches is a dead man!" . . . Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 "What is this bill? Give it me to look at!" , 34 
 
 She pointed to the paper lying upon the floor, and 
 
 gasped: "There! There!" 218 
 
 The young men whom Chupin was watching were 
 far from suspecting that they were under sur- 
 veillance , . 334 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 PASCAL AND MARGUERITE. 
 I. 
 
 IT was a Thursday evening, the fifteenth of October; 
 and although only half-past six o'clock, it had been dark 
 for some time already. The weather was cold, and the 
 sky was as black as ink, while the wind blew tem- 
 pestuously, and the rain fell in torrents. 
 
 The servants at the Hotel de Chalusse, one of the 
 most magnificent mansions in the Rue de Courcelles in 
 Paris, were assembled in the porter's lodge, a little 
 building comprising a couple of rooms standing on the 
 right hand side of the great gateway. Here, as in all 
 large mansions, the " concierge " or porter, M. Bouri- 
 geau, was a person of immense importance, always able 
 and disposed to make any one who was inclined to 
 doubt his authority, feel it in cruel fashion. As could 
 be easily seen, he held all the other servants in his 
 power. He could let them absent themselves without 
 leave, if he chose, and conceal all returns late at night 
 after the closing of public balls and wine-shops. Thus, 
 it is needless to say that M. Bourigeau and his wife 
 were treated by their fellow-servants with the most 
 servile adulation. 
 
 The owner of the house was not at home that evening, 
 so that M. Casimir, the count's head valet, was serving 
 
2 J-HEv&DtJNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 coffije : for the ibtenefiVof. all the retainers. And while 
 the company sipped the fragrant beverage which had 
 been generously tinctured with cognac, provided by the 
 butler, they all united in abusing their common enemy, 
 the master of the house. For the time being, a pert 
 little waiting-maid, with an odious turn-up nose, had 
 the floor. She was addressing her remarks to a big, 
 burly, and rather insolent-looking fellow, who had been 
 added only the evening before to the corps of footmen. 
 " The place is really intolerable," she was saying. " The 
 wages are high, the food of the very best, the livery just 
 such as would show off a good-looking man to the best 
 advantage, and Madame Leon, the housekeeper, who 
 has entire charge of everything, is not too lynx-eyed." 
 
 "And the work?" 
 
 "A mere nothing. Think, there are eighteen of us 
 to serve only two persons, the count and Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite. But then there is never any pleasure, 
 never any amusement here." 
 
 "What! is one bored then?" 
 
 "Bored to death. This grand house is worse than 
 a tomb. No receptions, no dinners nothing. Would 
 you believe it, I have never seen the reception-rooms ! 
 They are always closed; and the furniture is 'dropping 
 to pieces under its coverings. There are not three vis- 
 itors in the course of a month." 
 
 She was evidently incensed, and the new footman 
 seemed to share her indignation. " Why, how is it ? " 
 he exclaimed. " Is the count an owl ? A man who's 
 not yet fifty years old, and who's said to be worth sev- 
 eral millions." 
 
 "Yes, millions; you may safely say it and perhaps 
 ten, perhaps twenty millions too." 
 
 "Then all the more reason why there should be 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 3 
 
 something going on here. What does he do with him- 
 self alone, all the blessed day ? " 
 
 " Nothing. He reads in the library, or wanders about 
 the garden. Sometimes, in the evening, he drives with 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite to the Bois de Boulogne in 
 a closed carriage; but that seldom happens. Besides, 
 there is no such thing as teasing the poor man. Pve 
 been in the house for six months, and I've never heard 
 him say anything but : c yes ' ; ' no ' ; ' do this ' ; ' very 
 well ' ; ' retire.' You would think these are the only 
 words he knows. Ask M. Casimir if I'm not right." 
 
 " Our guv'nor isn't very gay, that's a fact," re- 
 sponded the valet. 
 
 The footman was listening with a serious air, as if 
 greatly interested in the character of the people whom 
 he was to serve. " And mademoiselle," he asked, " what 
 does she say to such an existence?" 
 
 " Bless me ! during the six months she has been here, 
 she has never once complained." 
 
 " If she is bored," added M. Casimir, " she conceals 
 it bravely." 
 
 " Naturally enough," sneered the waiting-maid, with 
 an ironical gesture; "each month that mademoiselle 
 remains here, brings her too much money for her to 
 complain." 
 
 By the laugh that greeted this reply, and by the looks 
 the older servants exchanged, the new-comer must have 
 realized that he had discovered the secret skeleton hid- 
 den in every house. "What! what!" he exclaimed, 
 on fire with curiosity ; " is there really anything in that ? 
 To tell the truth, I was inclined to doubt it." 
 
 His companions were evidently about to tell him all 
 they knew, or rather all they thought they knew, when 
 the front-door bell rang vigorously. 
 
4 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " There he comes ! " exclaimed the concierge ; " but 
 he's in too much of a hurry; he'll have to wait 
 awhile." 
 
 He sullenly pulled the cord, however ; the heavy door 
 swayed on its hinges, and a cab-driver, breathless and 
 hatless, burst into the room, crying, " Help ! help ! " 
 
 The servants sprang to their feet. 
 
 " Make haste ! " continued the driver. " I was bring- 
 ing a gentleman here you must know him. He's out- 
 side, in my vehicle " 
 
 Without pausing to listen any longer, the servants 
 rushed out, and the driver's incoherent explanation at 
 once became intelligible. At the bottom of the cab, a 
 roomy four-wheeler, a man was lying all of a heap, 
 speechless and motionless. He must have fallen for- 
 ward, face downward, and owing to the jolting of the 
 vehicle his head had slipped under the front seat. 
 
 " Poor devil ! " muttered M. Casimir, " he must have 
 had a stroke of apoplexy." The valet was peering into 
 the vehicle as he spoke, and his comrades were ap- 
 proaching, when suddenly he drew back, uttering a 
 cry of horror. " Ah, my God ! it is the count ! " 
 
 Whenever there is an accident in Paris, a throng of 
 inquisitive spectators seems to spring up from the very 
 pavement, and indeed more than fifty persons had 
 already congregated round about the vehicle. This 
 circumstance restored M. Casimir's composure; or, at 
 least, some portion of it. "You must drive into the 
 courtyard," he said, addressing the cabman. " M. 
 Bourigeau, open the gate, if you please." And then, 
 turning to another servant, he added : 
 
 " And you must make haste and fetch a physician 
 no matter who. Run to the nearest doctor, and don't 
 return until you bring one with you." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 5 
 
 The concierge had opened the gate, but the driver 
 had disappeared; they called him, and on receiving no 
 reply the valet seized the reins and skilfully guided the 
 cab through the gateway. 
 
 Having escaped the scrutiny of the crowd, it now re- 
 mained to remove the count from the vehicle, and this 
 was a difficult task, on account of the singular position 
 of his body; still, they succeeded at last, by opening 
 both doors of the cab, the three strongest men uniting 
 in their efforts. Then they placed him in a large arm- 
 chair, carried him to his own room, and speedily had 
 him undressed and in bed. 
 
 He had so far given no sign of life; and as he lay 
 there with his head weighing heavily on the pillow, you 
 might have thought that all was over. His most inti- 
 mate friend would scarcely have recognized him. His 
 features were swollen and discolored; his eyes were 
 closed, and a dark purple circle, looking almost like a 
 terrible bruise, extended round them. A spasm had 
 twisted his lips, and his distorted mouth, which was 
 drawn on one side and hung half open, imparted a most 
 sinister expression to his face. In spite of every pre- 
 caution, he had been wounded as he was removed from 
 the cab.v His forehead had been grazed by a piece of 
 iron, and a tiny stream of blood was trickling down 
 upon his face. However, he still breathed; and by lis- 
 tening attentively, one could distinguish a faint rattling 
 in his throat. 
 
 The servants, who had been so garrulous a few mo- 
 ments before, were silent now. They lingered in the 
 room, exchanging glances of mute consternation. Their 
 faces were pale and sad, and there were tears in the 
 eyes of some of them. What was passing in their 
 minds? Perhaps they were overcome by that uncon- 
 
6 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 querable fear which sudden and unexpected death al- 
 ways provokes. Perhaps they unconsciously loved this 
 master, whose bread they ate. Perhaps their grief was 
 only selfishness, and they were merely wondering what 
 would become of them, where they should find another 
 situation, and if it would prove a good one. Not know- 
 ing what to do, they talked together in subdued voices, 
 each suggesting some remedy he had heard spoken of 
 for such cases. The more sensible among them were 
 proposing to go and inform mademoiselle or Madame 
 Leon, whose rooms were on the floor above, when the 
 rustling of a skirt against the door suddenly made them 
 turn. The person whom they called "mademoiselle" 
 was standing on the threshold. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was a beautiful young girl, 
 about twenty years of age. She was a brunette of 
 medium height, with big gloomy eyes shaded by thick 
 eyebrows. Heavy masses of jet-black hair wreathed 
 her lofty but rather sad and thoughtful forehead. There 
 was something peculiar in her face an expression of 
 concentrated suffering, and a sort of proud resignation, 
 mingled with timidity. 
 
 "What has happened?" she asked, gently. "What 
 is the cause of all the noise I have heard? I have rung 
 three times and the bell was not answered." 
 
 No one ventured to reply, and in her surprise she 
 cast a hasty glance around. From where she stood, she 
 could not see the bed stationed in an alcove; but she 
 instantly noted the dejected attitude of the servants, the 
 clothing scattered about the floor, and the disorder that 
 pervaded this magnificent but severely furnished cham- 
 ber, which was only lighted by the lamp which M. 
 Bourigeau, the concierge, carried. A sudden dread 
 seized her; she shuddered, and in a faltering voice she 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 7 
 
 added : " Why are you all here ? Speak, tell me what 
 has happened/' 
 
 M. Casimir stepped forward. "A great misfortune, 
 mademoiselle, a terrible misfortune. The count " 
 
 And he paused, frightened by what he was about to 
 say. 
 
 But Mademoiselle Marguerite had understood him. 
 She clasped both hands to her heart, as if she had re- 
 ceived a fatal wound, and uttered the single word: 
 " Lost ! " 
 
 The next moment she turned as pale as death, her 
 head drooped, her eyes closed, and she staggered as if 
 about to fall. Two maids sprang forward to sup- 
 port her, but she gently repulsed them, murmuring, 
 " Thanks ! thanks ! I am strong now." 
 
 She was, in fact, sufficiently strong to conquer her 
 weakness. She summoned all her resolution, and, paler 
 than a statue, with set teeth and dry, glittering eyes, 
 she approached the alcove. She stood there for a mo- 
 ment perfectly motionless, murmuring a few unintelligi- 
 ble words ; but at last, crushed by her sorrow, she sank 
 upon her knees beside the bed, buried her face in the 
 counterpane and wept. 
 
 Deeply moved by the sight of this despair, the ser- 
 vants held their breath, wondering how it would all 
 end. It ended suddenly. The girl sprang from her 
 knees, as if a gleam of hope had darted through her 
 heart. " A physician ! " she said, eagerly. 
 
 " I have sent for one, mademoiselle," replied M. 
 Casimir. And hearing a voice and a sound of foot- 
 steps on the staircase, he added: "And fortunately, 
 here he comes." 
 
 The doctor entered. He was a young man, although 
 his head was almost quite bald. He was short, very 
 
8 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 thin, clean-shaven, and clad in black from head to foot. 
 Without a word, without a bow, he walked straight 
 to the bedside, lifted the unconscious man's eyelids, felt 
 his pulse, and uncovered his chest, applying his ear to 
 it. " This is a serious case," he said at the close of his 
 examination. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite, who had followed his 
 movements with the most poignant anxiety, could not 
 repress a sob. "But all hope is not lost, is it, mon- 
 sieur ? " she asked in a beseeching voice, with hands 
 clasped in passionate entreaty. "You will save him, 
 will you not you will save him ? " 
 
 " One may always hope for the best." 
 
 This was the doctor's only answer. He had drawn 
 his case of instruments from his pocket, and was test- 
 ing the points of his lancets on the tip of his finger. 
 When he had found one to his liking : " I must ask 
 you, mademoiselle," said he, " to order these women to 
 retire, and to retire yourself. The men will remain to 
 assist me, if I require help." 
 
 She obeyed submissively, but instead of returning to 
 her own room, she remained in the hall, seating her- 
 self upon the lower step of the staircase near the door, 
 counting the seconds, and drawing a thousand conjec- 
 tures from the slightest sound. 
 
 Meanwhile, inside the room, the physician was pro- 
 ceeding slowly, not from temperament however, but 
 from principle. Dr. Jodon for such was his name 
 was an ambitious man who played a part. Educated by 
 a "prince of science," more celebrated for the money 
 he gained than for the cures he effected, he copied his 
 master's method, his gestures, and even the inflections 
 of his voice. By casting in people's eyes the same pow- 
 der as his teacher had employed, he hoped to obtain the 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 9 
 
 same results : a large practice and an immense fortune. 
 In his secret heart he was by no means disconcerted by 
 his patient's condition ; on the contrary, he did not con- 
 sider the count's state nearly as precarious as it really 
 was. 
 
 But bleeding and cupping alike failed to bring the 
 sick man to consciousness. He remained speechless and 
 motionless; the only result obtained, was that his 
 breathing became a trifle easier. Finding his endeav- 
 ors fruitless, the doctor at last declared that all im- 
 mediate remedies were exhausted, that "the women" 
 might be allowed to return, and that nothing now re- 
 mained but to wait for the effect of the remedies he was 
 about to prescribe, and which they must procure from 
 the nearest chemist. 
 
 Any other man would have been touched by the 
 agony of entreaty contained in the glance that Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite cast upon the physician as she re- 
 turned into the room; but it did not affect him in the 
 least. He calmly said, "I cannot give my decision as yet." 
 
 " My God ! " murmured the unhappy girl ; " oh, my 
 God, have mercy upon me ! " 
 
 But the doctor, copying his model, had stationed him- 
 self near the fireplace, with his elbow leaning on the 
 mantel-shelf, in a graceful, though rather pompous 
 attitude. " Now," he said, addressing his remarks to 
 M. Casimir, " I desire to make a few inquiries. Is 
 this the first time the Count de Chalusse has had such 
 an attack?" 
 
 " Yes, sir at least since I have been in attendance 
 upon him." 
 
 " Very good. That is a chance in our favor. Tell 
 me have you ever heard him complain of vertigo, or 
 of a buzzing in his ears ? " 
 
10 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 " Never." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite seemed inclined to volun- 
 teer some remark,, but the doctor imposed silence upon 
 her by a gesture., and continued his examination. " Is 
 the count a great eater ? " he inquired. " Does he drink 
 heavily?" 
 
 " The count is moderation itself, monsieur, and 
 he always takes a great deal of water with his 
 wine." 
 
 The doctor listened with an air of intent thoughtful- 
 ness, his head slightly inclined forward, his brow con- 
 tracted, and his under lip puffed out, while from time 
 to time he stroked his beardless chin. He was copying 
 his master. i( The devil! " he said, sotto voce. " There 
 must be some cause for such an attack, however. 
 Nothing in the count's constitution predisposes him to 
 
 such an accident " Then, suddenly turning toward 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite : " Do you know, mademoi- 
 selle, whether the count has experienced any very vio- 
 lent emotion during the past few days ? " 
 
 " Something occurred this very morning, which 
 seemed to annoy him very much." 
 
 "Ah! now we have it," said the doctor, with the air 
 of an oracle. "Why did you not tell me all this at 
 first? It will be necessary for you to give me the par- 
 ticulars, mademoiselle." 
 
 The young girl hesitated. The servants were dazed 
 by the doctor's manner; but Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 was far from sharing their awe and admiration. She 
 would have given anything to have had the regular 
 physician of the household there instead of him ! As 
 for this coarse examination in the presence of all these 
 servants, and by the bedside of a man who, in spite of 
 his apparent unconsciousness, was, perhaps, able to hear 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 11 
 
 and to comprehend, she looked upon it as a breach of 
 delicacy, even of propriety. 
 
 " It is of the most urgent importance that I should 
 be fully informed of these particulars/' repeated the 
 physician peremptorily. 
 
 After such an assertion, further hesitation was out 
 of the question. Mademoiselle Marguerite seemed to 
 collect her thoughts, and then she sadly said : " Just as 
 we sat down to breakfast this morning, a letter was 
 handed to the count. No sooner had his eyes fallen 
 upon it, than he turned as white as his napkin. He rose 
 from his seat and began to walk hastily up and down 
 the dining-room, uttering exclamations of anger and 
 sorrow. I spoke to him, but he did not seem to hear 
 me. However, after a few moments, he resumed his 
 seat at the table, and began to eat " 
 
 "As usual?" 
 
 " He ate more than usual, monsieur. Only I must 
 tell you that it seemed to me he was scarcely conscious 
 of what he was doing. Four or five times he left the 
 table, and then came back again. At last, after quite 
 a struggle, he seemed to come to some decision. He 
 tore the letter to pieces, and threw the pieces out of 
 the window that opens upon the garden." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite expressed herself with the 
 utmost simplicity, and there was certainly nothing par- 
 ticularly extraordinary in her story. Still, those around 
 her listened with breathless curiosity, as though they 
 were expecting some startling revelation, so much does 
 the human mind abhor that which is natural and incline 
 to that which is mysterious. 
 
 Without seeming to notice the effect she had pro- 
 duced, and addressing herself to the physician alone, 
 the girl continued : " After the letter was destroyed, 
 
12 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 M. de Chalusse seemed himself again. Coffee was 
 served, and he afterward lighted a cigar as usual. How- 
 ever, he soon let it go out. I dared not disturb him by 
 any remarks ; but suddenly he said to me : ' It's strange, 
 but I feel very uncomfortable/ A moment passed, 
 without either of us speaking, and then he added : ' I 
 am certainly not well. Will you do me the favor to 
 go to my room for me? Here is the key of my escri- 
 toire; open it, and on the upper shelf you will find a 
 small bottle which please bring to me.' I noticed with 
 some surprise that M. de Chalusse, who usually speaks 
 very distinctly, stammered and hesitated considerably in 
 making this request, but, unfortunately, I did not think 
 much about it at the time. I did as he requested, and 
 he poured eight or ten drops of the contents of the vial 
 into a glass of water, and swallowed it." 
 
 So intense was Dr. Jodon's interest that he became 
 himself again. He forgot to attitudinize. "And after 
 that ? " he asked, eagerly. 
 
 "After that, M. de Chalusse seemed to feel much 
 better, and retired to his study as usual. I fancied that 
 any annoyance the letter had caused him was forgotten ; 
 but I was wrong, for in the afternoon he sent a mes- 
 sage, through Madame Leon, requesting me to join him 
 in the garden. I hastened there, very much surprised, 
 for the weather was extremely disagreeable. ' Dear 
 Marguerite/ he said, on seeing me, ' help me to find 
 the fragments of that letter which I flung from the 
 window this morning. I would give half my fortune 
 for an address which it must certainly have contained, 
 but which I quite overlooked in my anger/ I helped 
 him as he asked. He might have reasonably hoped to 
 succeed, for it was raining when the scraps of paper 
 were thrown out, and instead of flying through the air, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 13 
 
 they fell directly on to the ground. We succeeded in 
 finding a large number of the scraps, but what M. de 
 Chalusse so particularly wanted was not to be read on 
 any one of them. Several times he spoke of his regret, 
 and cursed his precipitation." 
 
 M. Bourigeau, the concierge, and M. Casimir ex- 
 changed a significant smile. They had seen the count 
 searching for the remnants of this letter, and had 
 thought him little better than an idiot. But now every- 
 thing was explained. 
 
 " I was much grieved at the count's disappointment," 
 continued Mademoiselle Marguerite, "but suddenly he 
 exclaimed, joyfully : ' That address why, such a per- 
 son will give it to me what a fool I am ! ' ; 
 
 The physician evinced such absorbing interest in this 
 narrative that he forgot to retain his usual impassive 
 attitude. " Such a person ! Who who was this per- 
 son ? " he inquired eagerly, without apparently realizing 
 the impropriety of his question. 
 
 But the girl felt indignant. She silenced her indis- 
 creet questioner with a haughty glance, and in the dri- 
 est possible tone, replied : " I have forgotten the name." 
 
 Cut to the quick, the doctor suddenly resumed his 
 master's pose ; but all the same his imperturbable sang- 
 froid was sensibly impaired. " Believe me, mademoi- 
 selle, that interest alone a most respectful interest " 
 
 She did not even seem to hear his excuse, but re- 
 sumed : " I know, however, monsieur, that M. de Cha- 
 lusse intended applying to the police if he failed to ob- 
 tain this address from the person in question. After 
 this he appeared to be entirely at ease. At three o'clock 
 he rang for his valet, and ordered dinner two hours 
 earlier than usual. We sat down to table at about half- 
 past four. At five he rose, kissed me gayly, and left 
 
14 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the house on foot, telling me that he was confident of 
 success, and that he did not expect to return before 
 midnight/ 7 The poor child's firmness now gave way; 
 her eyes filled with tears, and it was in a voice choked 
 with sobs that she added, pointing to M. de Chalusse: 
 " But at half-past six they brought him back as you see 
 
 him now " 
 
 An interval of silence ensued, so deep that one could 
 hear the faint breathing of the unconscious man still 
 lying motionless on his bed. However, the particulars 
 of the attack were yet to be learned; and it was M. 
 Casimir whom the physician next addressed. " What 
 did the driver who brought your master home say to 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh ! almost nothing, sir ; not ten words." 
 " You must find this man and bring him to me." 
 Two servants rushed out in search of him. He could 
 not be far away, for his vehicle was still standing in the 
 courtyard. They found him in a wine-shop near by. 
 Some of the inquisitive spectators who had been dis- 
 appointed in their curiosity by Casimir's thoughtfulness 
 had treated him to some liquor, and in exchange he had 
 told them all he knew about the affair. He had quite 
 recovered from his fright, and was cheerful, even gay. 
 " Come make haste, you are wanted," said the ser- 
 vants. 
 
 He emptied his glass and followed them with very 
 bad grace, muttering and swearing between his set 
 teeth. The doctor, strange to say, was considerate 
 enough to go out into the hall to question him ; but no 
 information of value was gained by the man's answers. 
 He declared that the gentleman had hired him at 
 twelve o'clock, hoping by this means to extort pay for 
 five hours' driving, which, joined to the liberal gratuity 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 15 
 
 he could not fail to obtain, would remunerate him hand- 
 somely for his day's work. Living is dear, it should 
 be remembered, and a fellow makes as much as he can. 
 When the cabby had gone off, still growling, al- 
 though a couple of louis had been placed in his hand, 
 the doctor returned to his patient. He involuntarily as- 
 sumed his accustomed attitude, with crossed arms, a 
 gloomy expression of countenance, and his forehead 
 furrowed as if with thought and anxiety. But this 
 time he was not acting a part. In spite, or rather by 
 reason of, the full explanation that had been given him, 
 he found something suspicious and mysterious in the 
 whole affair. A thousand vague and undefinable sus- 
 picions crossed his mind. Was he in presence of a 
 crime? Certainly, evidently not. But what was the 
 cause then of the mystery and reticence he detected? 
 Was he upon the track of some lamentable family secret 
 * one of those terrible scandals, concealed for a long 
 time, but which at last burst forth with startling effect ? 
 The prospect of being mixed up in such an affair caused 
 him infinite pleasure. It would bring him into notice ; 
 he would be mentioned in the papers ; and his increased 
 practice would fill his hands with gold. 
 
 But what could he do to ingratiate himself with these 
 people, impose himself upon them if needs be? He 
 reflected for some time, and finally what he thought an 
 excellent plan occurred to him. He approached Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite, who was weeping in an arm-chair, 
 and touched her gently on the shoulder. She sprang 
 to her feet at once. "One more question, mademoi- 
 selle," said he, imparting as much solemnity to his 
 tone as he could. " Do you know what liquid it was 
 that M. de Chalusse took this morning?" 
 
 " Alas ! no, monsieur/ 3 
 
16 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " It is very important that I should know. The ac- 
 curacy of my diagnosis is dependent upon it. What 
 has become of the vial ? " 
 
 " I think M. de Chalusse replaced it in his escritoire/' 
 
 The physician pointed to an article of furniture to 
 the left of the fireplace : There? " he asked. 
 
 <e Yes, monsieur." 
 
 He deliberated, but at last conquering his hesitation, 
 he said : " Could we not obtain this vial ? " 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite blushed. " I haven't the 
 key," she faltered, in evident embarrassment. 
 
 M. Casimir approached : " It must be in the count's 
 pocket, and if mademoiselle will allow me " 
 
 But she stepped back with outstretched arms as if to 
 protect the escritoire. " No," she exclaimed, " no the 
 escritoire shall not be touched. I will not permit 
 it " 
 
 " But, mademoiselle," insisted the doctor, " your 
 father " 
 
 " The Count de Chalusse is not my father ! " 
 
 Dr. Jodon was greatly disconcerted by Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite's vehemence. " Ah ! " said he, in three dif- 
 ferent tones, " ah ! ah ! " 
 
 In less than a second, a thousand strange and con- 
 tradictory suppositions darted through his brain. Who, 
 then, could this girl be, if she were not Mademoiselle 
 de Chalusse ? What right had she in that house ? How 
 was it that she reigned as a sovereign there? Above 
 all, why this angry outburst for no other apparent cause 
 than a very natural and exceedingly insignificant request 
 on his part? 
 
 However, she had regained her self-possession, and 
 it was easy to see by her manner that she was seek- 
 ing some means of escape from threatened danger. At 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 17 
 
 last she found it. " Casimir," she said, authoritatively, 
 "search M. de Chalusse's pocket for the key of his 
 escritoire/' 
 
 Astonished by what he regarded as a new caprice, 
 the valet obeyed. He gathered up the garments strewn 
 over the floor, and eventually drew a key from one of 
 the waistcoat pockets. Mademoiselle Marguerite took 
 it from him, and then in a determined tone, exclaimed : 
 " A hammer." 
 
 It was brought ; whereupon, to the profound amaze- 
 ment of the physician, she knelt down beside the fire- 
 place, laid the key upon one of the andirons, and with 
 a heavy blow of the hammer, broke it into fragments. 
 " Now," said she, quietly, " my mind will be at rest. 
 I am certain," she added, turning toward the servants, 
 " that M. de Chalusse would approve what I have 
 done. When he recovers, he will have another key 
 made." 
 
 The explanation was superfluous. All the servants 
 understood the motive that had influenced her, and 
 were saying to themselves, " Mademoiselle is right. It 
 would not do to touch the escritoire of a dying man. 
 Who knows but what there are millions in it? If 
 anything were missed, why any of us might be accused. 
 But if the key is destroyed, it will be impossible to sus- 
 pect any one/' 
 
 However, the physician's conjectures were of an en- 
 tirely different nature. " What can there be in that 
 escritoire which she desires to conceal ? " he thought. 
 
 But there was no excuse for prolonging his visit. 
 Once more he examined the sick man, whose condition 
 remained unchanged; and then, after explaining what 
 was to be done in his absence, he declared that he must 
 leave at once, as he had a number of important visits 
 
18 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 to make; he added, however, that he would return 
 about midnight. 
 
 " Madame Leon and I will watch over M. de Cha- 
 lusse," replied Mademoiselle Marguerite ; " that is suffi- 
 cient assurance, monsieur, that your orders will be 
 obeyed to the letter. Only you will not take offence, 
 I trust, if I ask the count's regular physician to meet 
 you in consultation." 
 
 Such a proposal was anything but pleasing to M. 
 Jodon, who had met with the same misfortune in this 
 aristocratic neighborhood several times before. When 
 an accident happened, he was summoned because he 
 chanced to be close at hand, but just as he was flatter- 
 ing himself that he had gained a desirable patient, he 
 found himself in presence of some celebrated physician, 
 who had come from a distance in his carriage. Accus- 
 tomed to such disappointments, he knew how to con- 
 ceal his dissatisfaction. 
 
 " Were I in your place, mademoiselle, I should do 
 precisely what you suggest," he answered, " and should 
 you think it unnecessary for me to call, I " 
 
 " Oh ! monsieur, on the contrary, I shall certainly ex- 
 pect you." 
 
 " In that case, very well." Thereupon he bowed and 
 left the room. 
 
 But Mademoiselle Marguerite followed him on to the 
 landing. " You know, monsieur," she said, speaking 
 rapidly in an undertone, "that I am not M. de Cha- 
 lusse's daughter. You may, therefore, tell me the 
 truth. Is his condition hopeless ? " 
 
 " Alarming yes ; hopeless no." 
 
 " But, monsieur, this terrible unconsciousness " 
 
 " It usually follows such an attack as he has been 
 the victim of. Still we may hope that the paralysis will 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 19 
 
 gradually disappear, and the power of motion return 
 after a time." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was listening, pale, agi- 
 tated, and embarrassed. It was evident that she had a 
 question on her lips which she scarcely dared to ask. 
 At last, however, summoning all her courage, she ex- 
 claimed : " And if M. de Chalusse should not recover, 
 will he die without regaining consciousness without 
 being able to speak?" 
 
 " I am unable to say, mademoiselle the count's mal- 
 ady is one of those which set at naught all the hypoth- 
 eses of science." 
 
 She thanked him sadly, sent a servant to summon 
 Madame Leon, and returned to the count's room. 
 
 As for the doctor, he said to himself as he went 
 downstairs, " What a strange girl ! Is she afraid that 
 the count will regain consciousness? or, on the con- 
 trary, does she wish him to speak? Is there any ques- 
 tion of a will under all this? What else can it be? 
 What is at stake ? " His preoccupation was so intense 
 that he almost forgot where he was going, and he 
 paused on every step. It was not until the fresh air 
 of the courtyard blew upon his face, reminding him of 
 the realities of life, that the charlatanesque element in 
 his nature regained the ascendency. " My friend," he 
 said, addressing M. Casimir, who was lighting him out, 
 " you must at once have some straw spread over the 
 street so as to deaden the sound of the vehicles. And 
 to-morrow, you must inform the commissary of police." 
 
 Ten minutes later a thick bed of straw had been 
 strewed across the thoroughfare, and the drivers of 
 passing vehicles involuntarily slackened their speed, for 
 every one in Paris knows what this signifies. M. Casi- 
 mir personally superintended the work which was in- 
 
20 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 trusted to the grooms, and he was about to return 
 indoors again, when a young man, who had been walk- 
 ing up and down in front of the mansion for more 
 than an hour, hastily approached him. He was a beard- 
 less fellow with a strangely wrinkled face, as leaden- 
 tinted as that of a confirmed absinthe-drinker. His gen- 
 eral expression was shrewd, and at the same time im- 
 pudent, and surprising audacity gleamed in his eyes. 
 "What do you want?" asked M. Casimir. 
 
 The young fellow bowed humbly, and replied, " Ah, 
 don't you recognize me, monsieur? I'm Toto excuse 
 me Victor Chupin, employed by M. Isidore Fortunat." 
 
 " Oh, yes. I recollect/' 
 
 " I came, in obedience to my employer's orders, to 
 inquire if you had obtained the information you prom- 
 ised him; but seeing that something had happened at 
 your house, I didn't dare go in, but decided to watch 
 for you " 
 
 "And you did quite right, my lad. I have no in- 
 formation to give you ah, yes ! stop ! The Marquis 
 de Valorsay was closeted with the count for two hours 
 yesterday. But what good will that do ? The count has 
 been taken suddenly ill, and he will scarcely live through 
 the night." 
 
 Victor Chupin was thunderstruck. " Impossible ! " 
 he cried. " Is it for him that the straw has been 
 strewed in the street? " 
 
 " It's for him." 
 
 " What a lucky fellow ! No one would go to such 
 expense for me ! But I have an idea that my guv'nor 
 will hardly laugh when I tell him this. Still, thank you 
 all the same, m'sieur, and au revoir" He was darting 
 off when a sudden thought detained him. " Excuse 
 me," said he, with conjuror like volubility ; " I was so 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 21 
 
 horrified that I forgot business. Tell me, m'sieur, if 
 the count dies, you'll take charge of the funeral ar- 
 rangements, won't you? Very well; a word of advice 
 then. Don't go to the regular undertakers, but come 
 to me : here's my address " proffering a card " I 
 will treat with the undertakers for you, and take charge 
 of everything. It will be much better and far cheaper 
 for you, on account of certain arrangements I've made 
 with these parties. Everything, to the very last plume, 
 is warranted to give perfect satisfaction. Each item 
 will be specified in the bill, and can be verified during 
 the ceremony, no payment exacted until after delivery. 
 Well, is it understood ? " 
 
 The valet shrugged his shoulders. " Nonsense ! " 
 said he, carelessly ; " what is all that to me ? " 
 
 " Ah ! I forgot to mention that there would be a 
 commission of two hundred francs to divide between 
 us." 
 
 " That's consideration. Give me your card, and rely 
 on me. My compliments to M. Fortunat, please." And 
 so saying, he re-entered the house. 
 
 Victor Chupin drew a huge silver watch from his 
 pocket and consulted it. " Five minutes to eight," he 
 growled, "and the guv'nor expects me at eight pre- 
 cisely. I shall have to stretch out my legs." 
 
22 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 II. 
 
 M. ISIDORE FORTUNAT resided at No. 27 Place de la 
 Bourse, on the third floor. He had a handsome suite 
 of apartments : a drawing-room,, a dining-room, a bed- 
 room, a large outer office where his clerks worked, and 
 a private one, which was the sanctuary of his thoughts 
 and meditations. The whole cost him only six thou- 
 sand francs a year, a mere trifle as rents go nowadays. 
 His lease entitled him, moreover, to the use of a room 
 ten feet square, up under the eaves, where he lodged 
 his servant, Madame Dodelin, a woman of forty-six 
 or thereabouts, who had met with reverses of fortune, 
 and who now took such good charge of his establish- 
 ment, that his table for he ate at home was truly fit 
 for a sybarite. 
 
 Having been established here for five years or more, 
 M. Fortunat was very well known in the neighborhood, 
 and, as he paid his rent promptly, and met all his obli- 
 gations without demur, he was generally respected. 
 Besides, people knew very well from what source M. 
 Fortunat derived his income. He gave his attention to 
 contested claims, liquidations, the recovery of legacies, 
 and so on, as was shown by the inscription in large let- 
 ters which figured on the elegant brass plate adorning 
 his door. He must have had a prosperous business, for 
 he employed six collectors in addition to the clerks who 
 wrote all day long in his office; and his clients were 
 so numerous that the concierge was often heard to 
 complain of the way they ran up and down the stairs, 
 declaring that it was worse than a procession. 
 
 To be just, we must add that M. Fortunat's appear- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 23 
 
 ance, manners and conduct were of a nature to quiet 
 all suspicions. He was some thirty-eight years of age, 
 extremely methodical in his habits, gentle and refined 
 in his manner, intelligent, very good-looking, and al- 
 ways dressed in perfect taste. He was accused of 
 being, in business matters, as cold, as polished, and as 
 hard as one of the marble slabs of the Morgue; but 
 then, no one was obliged to employ him unless they 
 chose to do so. This much is certain : he did not fre- 
 quent cafes or places of amusement. If he went out 
 at all after dinner, it was only to pass the evening at 
 the house of some rich client in the neighborhood. He 
 detested the smell of tobacco, and was inclined to 
 be devout never failing to attend eight o'clock mass 
 on Sunday mornings. His housekeeper suspected 
 him of matrimonial designs, and perhaps she was 
 right. 
 
 On the evening that the Count de Chalusse was 
 struck with apoplexy M. Isidore Fortunat had been 
 dining alone and was sipping a cup of tea when the 
 door-bell rang, announcing the arrival of a visitor. 
 Madame Dodelin hastened to open the door, and in 
 walked Victor Chupin, breathless from his hurried walk. 
 It had not taken him twenty-five minutes to cover the 
 distance which separates the Rue de Courcelles from 
 the Place de la Bourse. 
 
 " You are late, Victor," said M. Fortunat, quietly. 
 
 " That's true, monsieur, but it isn't my fault. Every- 
 thing was in confusion down there, and I was obliged 
 to wait 
 
 "How is that? Why?" 
 
 " The Count de Chalusse was stricken with apoplexy 
 this evening, and he is probably dead by this time." 
 
 M. Fortunat sprang from his chair with a livid face 
 
24 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and trembling lips. " Stricken with apoplexy ! " he ex- 
 claimed in a husky voice. " I am ruined ! " 
 
 Then, fearing Madame Dodelin's curiosity, he seized 
 the lamp and rushed into his office, crying to Chupin : 
 " Follow me." 
 
 Chupin obeyed without a word, for he was a shrewd 
 fellow, and knew how to make the best of a trying sit- 
 uation. He was not usually allowed to enter this pri- 
 vate room, the floor of which was covered with a mag- 
 nificent carpet ; and so, after carefully closing the door, 
 he remained standing, hat in hand, and looking some- 
 what intimidated. But M. Fortunat seemed to have 
 forgotten his presence. After depositing the lamp on 
 the mantel-shelf, he walked several times round and 
 round the room like a hunted beast seeking for some 
 means of egress. 
 
 "If the count is dead," he muttered, " the Marquis 
 de Valorsay is lost ! Farewell to the millions ! " 
 
 The blow was so cruel, and so entirely unexpected, 
 that he could not, would not believe in its reality. He 
 walked straight to Chupin, and caught him by the col- 
 lar, as if the young fellow had been the cause of this 
 misfortune. " It isn't possible/' said he ; " the count 
 cannot be dead. You are deceiving me, or they de- 
 ceived you. You must have misunderstood you only 
 wished to give some excuse for your delay perhaps. 
 Speak, say something ! " 
 
 As a rule, Chupin was not easily impressed, but he 
 felt almost frightened by his employer's agitation. " I 
 only repeated what M. Casimir told me, monsieur," was 
 his reply. 
 
 He then wished to furnish some particulars, but M. 
 Fortunat had already resumed his furious tramp to and 
 fro, giving vent to his wrath and despair in incoherent 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 25 
 
 exclamations. " Forty thousand francs lost ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " Forty thousand francs, counted out there 
 on my desk! I see them yet, counted and placed in the 
 hand of the Marquis de Valorsay in exchange for his 
 signature. My savings for a number of years, and I 
 have only a worthless scrap of paper to show for them. 
 That cursed marquis ! And he was to come here this 
 evening, and I was to give him ten thousand francs 
 more. They are lying there in that drawer. Let him 
 come, the wretch, let him come ! " 
 
 Anger had positively brought foam to M. Fortunat's 
 lips, and any one seeing him then would subsequently 
 have had but little confidence in his customary good- 
 natured air and unctuous politeness. " And yet the 
 marquis is as much to be pitied as I am," he continued. 
 " He loses as much, even more ! And such a sure thing 
 it seemed, too ! What speculation can a fellow engage 
 in after this? And a man must put his money some- 
 where ; he can't bury it in the ground ! " 
 
 Chupin listened with an air of profound commisera- 
 tion ; but it was only assumed. He was inwardly jubi- 
 lant, for his interest in the affair was in direct opposi- 
 tion to that of his employer. Indeed, if M. Fortunat 
 lost forty thousand francs by the Count de Chalusse's 
 death, Chupin expected to make a hundred francs com- 
 mission on the funeral. 
 
 " Still, he may have made a will ! " pursued M. 
 Fortunat. " But no, I'm sure he hasn't. A poor devil 
 who has only a few sous to leave behind him always 
 takes this precaution. He thinks he may be run over 
 by an omnibus and suddenly killed, and he always 
 writes and signs his last wishes. But millionaires don't 
 think of such things; they believe themselves im- 
 mortal ! " He paused to reflect for a moment, for 
 
26 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 power of reflection had returned to him. His excite- 
 ment had quickly spent itself by reason of its very 
 violence. " This much is certain," he resumed, slowly, 
 and in a more composed voice, " whether the count has 
 made a will or not, Valorsay will lose the millions he 
 expected from Chalusse. If there is no will, Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite won't have a sou, and then, good 
 evening ! If there is one, this devil of a girl, suddenly 
 becoming her own mistress, and wealthy into the bar- 
 gain, will send Monsieur de Valorsay about his business, 
 especially if she loves another, as he himself admits 
 and in that case, again good evening ! " 
 
 M. Fortunat drew out his handkerchief, and, pausing 
 in front of the looking-glass, wiped the perspiration 
 from his brow, and arranged his disordered hair. He 
 was one of those men who may be stunned, but never 
 crushed, by a catastrophe. " In conclusion," he mut- 
 tered, " I must enter my forty thousand francs as an 
 item in the profit and loss account. It only remains 
 to be seen if it would not be possible to regain them 
 in the same affair." He was again master of himself, 
 and never had his mind been more clear. He seated 
 himself at his desk, leant his elbows upon it, rested his 
 head on his hands, and remained for some time per- 
 fectly motionless ; but there was triumph in his gesture 
 when he at last looked up again. 
 
 " I am safe," he muttered, so low that Chupin could 
 not hear him. " What a fool I was ! If there is no 
 will a fourth of the millions shall be mine ! Ah, when 
 a man knows his ground, he never need lose the battle ! 
 But I must act quickly," he added, "very quickly." 
 And so speaking, he rose and glanced at the clock. 
 " Nine o'clock," said he. " I must open the campaign 
 this very evening." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 27 
 
 Motionless in his dark corner, Chupin still retained 
 his commiserating attitude; but he was so oppressed 
 with curiosity that he could scarcely breathe. He: 
 opened his eyes and ears to the utmost, and watched his; 
 employer's slightest movements with intense interest- 
 Prompt to act when he had once decided upon his 
 course, M. Fortunat now drew from his desk a large 
 portfolio,, crammed full of letters, receipts, bills, deeds 
 of property, and old parchments. " I can certainly dis- 
 cover the necessary pretext here," he murmured, rum- 
 maging through the mass of papers. But he did not at 
 once find what he sought, and he was growing impa- 
 tient, as could be seen by his feverish haste, when all 
 at once he paused with a sigh of relief. " At last ! " 
 
 He held in his hand a soiled and crumpled note of 
 hand, affixed by a pin to a huissier's protest, thus prov- 
 ing conclusively that it had been dishonored. M. 
 Fortunat waved these strips of paper triumphantly, 
 and with a satisfied air exclaimed : " It is here that I 
 must strike; it is here if Casimir hasn't deceived me 
 that I shall find the indispensable information I 
 need." 
 
 He was in such haste that he did not wait to put his 
 portfolio in order. He threw it with the papers it had 
 contained into the drawer of his desk again, and, ap- 
 proaching Chupin, he asked, " It was you, was it not,, 
 Victor, who obtained that information respecting the 
 solvency of the Vantrassons, husband and wife, who let 
 out furnished rooms?" 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, and I gave you the answer : nothing 
 to hope for " 
 
 " I know ; but that doesn't matter. Do you remem- 
 ber their address ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. They are now living on the Asnieres 
 
28 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 Road, beyond the fortifications, on the right hand side." 
 
 "What is the number?" 
 
 Chupin hesitated, reflected for a moment, and then 
 began to scratch his head furiously, as he was in the 
 habit of doing whenever his memory failed him and he 
 wished to recall it to duty. " I'm not sure whether the 
 number is eighteen or forty-six," he said, at last ; " that 
 
 " Never mind," interrupted M. Fortunat. " If I sent 
 you to the house could you find it ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, m'sieur at once with my eyes shut. I 
 can see the place perfectly a rickety old barrack. 
 There is a tract of unoccupied land on one side, and 
 a kitchen-garden in the rear." 
 
 " Very well ; you shall accompany me there." 
 
 Chupin seemed astonished by this strange proposal. 
 " What, m'sieur," said he, " do you think of going there 
 at this time of night?" 
 
 " Why not? Shall we find the establishment closed?" 
 
 " No ; certainly not. Vantrasson doesn't merely keep 
 furnished rooms; he's a grocer, and sells liquor too. 
 His place is open until eleven o'clock at least. But if 
 you are going there to present a bill, it's perhaps a little 
 late. If I were in your place, m'sieur, I should wait till 
 to-morrow. It's raining, and the streets are deserted. 
 It's an out-of-the-way place too; and in such cases, a 
 man has been known to settle his account with what- 
 ever came handiest with a cudgel, or a bullet, for 
 instance." 
 
 " Are you afraid ? " 
 
 This question seemed so utterly absurd to Chupin 
 that he was not in the least offended by it; his only 
 answer was a disdainful shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " Then we will go," remarked M. Fortunat. " While 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 29 
 
 I'm getting ready, go and hire a cab, and see that you 
 get a good horse." 
 
 Chupin was off in an instant, tearing down the stair- 
 case like a tempest. There was a cab-stand only a few 
 steps from the house, but he preferred to run to the 
 jobmaster's stables in the Rue Feydeau. 
 
 "Cab, sir!" shouted several men, as they saw him 
 approaching. 
 
 He made no reply, but began to examine the horses 
 with the air of a connoisseur, until at last he found an 
 animal that suited him. Thereupon he beckoned to the 
 driver, and going to the little office where a woman sat 
 reading : " My five sous, if you please," he said, author- 
 itatively. 
 
 The woman looked at him. Most jobmasters are in 
 the habit of giving five sous to any servant who comes 
 in search of a cab for his master ; and this was the cus- 
 tom here. But the keeper of the office, who felt sure 
 that Chupin was not a servant, hesitated; and this 
 made the young fellow angry. " Make haste," he cried, 
 imperiously. "If you don't, I shall run to the nearest 
 stand." 
 
 The woman at once threw him five sous, which he 
 pocketed with a satisfied grin. They were his right- 
 fully his since he had taken the trouble to gain them. 
 He then hastily returned to the office to inform his em- 
 ployer that the cab was waiting at the door, and found 
 himself face to face with a sight which made him open 
 his eyes to their widest extent. 
 
 M. Fortunat had profited by his clerk's absence, not 
 to disguise himself that would be saying too much 
 but to make some changes in his appearance. He had 
 arrayed himself in a long overcoat, shiny with grease 
 and wear, and falling below his knees; in place of his 
 
30 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 elegant satin cravat he had knotted a gaudy silk necker- 
 chief about his throat; his boots were worn, and out 
 of shape; and his hat would have been treated with 
 contempt even by a dealer in old clothes. Of the pros- 
 perous Fortunat, so favorably known round about the 
 Place de la Bourse, naught remained save his face and 
 his hands. Another Fortunat had taken his place, more 
 than needy in aspect wretched, famished, gaunt with 
 hunger, ready for any desperate deed. And, yet, he 
 seemed at ease in this garb; it yielded to his every 
 movement, as if he had worn it for a long time. The 
 butterfly had become a chrysalis again. Chupin's ad- 
 miring smile must have repaid him for his trouble. 
 Since the young clerk evinced approval, M. Fortunat 
 felt sure that Vantrasson would take him for what he 
 wished to appear a poor devil of an agent, who was 
 acting on some other person's behalf. " Let us start 
 at once/' said he. 
 
 But just as he was leaving the ante-room, he remem- 
 bered an order of great importance which he wished to 
 give. He called Madame Dodelin, and without paying 
 the slightest heed to her astonishment at seeing him 
 thus attired : " If the Marquis de Valorsay comes, in 
 my absence," said he " and he will come ask him to 
 wait for me. I shall return before midnight. Don't take 
 "him into my office he can wait in the drawing-room." 
 
 This last order was certainly unnecessary, since M. 
 Fortunat had closed and double-locked his office door, 
 and placed the key carefully in his own pocket. But 
 perhaps he had forgotten this circumstance. There 
 were now no traces of his recent anger and disappoint- 
 ment. He was in excellent humor; and you might 
 have supposed that he was starting on an enterprise from 
 which he expected to derive both pleasure and profit. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 31 
 
 Chupin was climbing to a place on the box beside 
 the driver when his employer bade him take a seat 
 inside the vehicle. They were not long in reaching 
 their destination, for the horse was really a good one, 
 and the driver had been stimulated by the promise of 
 a magnificent gratuity. In fact, M. Fortunat and his 
 companion reached the Asnieres Road in less than 
 forty minutes. 
 
 In obedience to the orders he had received before 
 starting, the cabman drew up on the right hand side 
 of the road, at about a hundred paces from the city 
 gate, beyond the fortifications. "Well, sir, here you 
 are ! Are you satisfied ? " he inquired, as he opened the 
 door. 
 
 "Perfectly satisfied/' replied M. Fortunat. "Here 
 is your promised gratuity. Now, you have only to wait 
 for us. Don't stir from this place. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 But the driver shook his head. " Excuse me," he 
 said, "but if it's all the same to you, I will station 
 myself over there near the gate. Here, you see, I 
 should be afraid to go to sleep, while over there " 
 
 " Very well ; suit yourself," M. Fortunat replied. 
 
 This precaution on the driver's part convinced him 
 that Chupin had not exaggerated the evil reputation 
 of this quarter of the Parisian suburbs. And, indeed, 
 there was little of a reassuring character in the aspect 
 of this broad road, quite deserted at this hour, and 
 shrouded in the darkness of a tempestuous night. The 
 rain had ceased falling, but the wind blew with in- 
 creased violence,, twisting the branches off the trees, 
 tearing slates from the roofs, and shaking the street- 
 lamps so furiously as to extinguish the gas. They 
 could not see a step before them; the mud was ankle- 
 
32 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 deep, and not a person, not a solitary soul was 
 visible. 
 
 "Are we almost there?" M. Fortunat asked every 
 ten paces. 
 
 " Almost there, m'sieur." 
 
 Chupin said this; but to tell the truth, he knew 
 nothing about it. He tried to discover where he was, 
 but did not succeed. Houses were becoming scanty, 
 and vacant plots of building ground more numerous; it 
 was only with the greatest difficulty that one could 
 occasionally discern a light. At last, however, after a 
 quarter of an hour's hard struggling, Chupin uttered a 
 joyful cry. " Here we are, m'sieur look ! " said he. 
 
 A large building, five stories high, sinister of aspect, 
 and standing quite alone, could just be distinguished 
 in the darkness. It was already falling to pieces, and 
 yet it was not entirely completed. Plainly enough, the 
 speculator who had undertaken the enterprise had not 
 been rich enough to compkte it. On seeing the many 
 closely pierced windows of the fagade, a passer-by could 
 not fail to divine for what purpose the building had 
 been erected; and in order that no one should remain 
 in ignorance of it, this inscription : "Furnished Rooms," 
 figured in letters three feet high, between the third and 
 fourth floors. The inside arrangements could be easily 
 divined : innumerable rooms, all small and inconvenient, 
 and let out at exorbitant rentals. 
 
 However, Victor Chupin's memory had misled him. 
 This establishment was not on the right, but on the 
 left-hand side of the road, a perfect mire through 
 which M. Fortunat and his companion were obliged to 
 cross. Their eyes having become accustomed to the 
 darkness, they could discern sundry details as they ap j 
 preached the building. The ground floor comprised 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 33 
 
 two shops, one of which was closed, but the other was 
 still open, and a faint light gleamed through the soiled 
 red curtains. Over the frontage appeared the shop- 
 keeper's name, Vantrasson, while on either side, in 
 smaller letters, were the words : " Groceries and Pro- 
 visions Foreign and French Wines/' Everything 
 about this den denoted abject poverty and low de- 
 bauchery. 
 
 M. Fortunat certainly did not recoil, but before en- 
 tering the shop he was not sorry to have an opportunity 
 to reconnoitre. He approached cautiously, and peered 
 through the window at a place where a rent in the cur- 
 tain allowed him some view of the interior. Behind 
 the counter a woman who looked some fifty years of 
 age was seated, mending a soiled dress by the light of 
 a smoking lamp. She was short and very stout. She 
 seemed literally weighed down, and puffed out by an 
 unwholesome and unnatural mass of superfluous flesh; 
 and she was as white as if her veins had been filled 
 with water, instead of blood. Her hanging cheeks, her 
 receding forehead, and her thin lips, imparted an alarm- 
 ing expression of wickedness and cunning to her 
 countenance. At the farther end of the store For- 
 tunat could vaguely discern the figure of a man seated 
 on a stool. He seemed to be asleep, for his crossed 
 arms rested on a table, with his head leaning on them. 
 
 " Good luck ! " whispered Chupin in his employer's 
 ear ; " there is not a customer in the place. Vantrasson 
 and his wife are alone." This circumstance was by no 
 means displeasing to M. Fortunat, as could be seen by 
 his expression of face. " So, m'sieur," continued Chu- 
 pin, "you need have no fears. I'll remain here and 
 watch, while you go in." 
 
 M. Fortunat did so. On hearing the door open and 
 
34 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 shut, the woman laid down her work. "What can I 
 do for monsieur ? " she asked, in a wheedling voice. 
 
 M. Fortunat did not reply at once; but he drew the 
 note with which he had provided himself from his 
 pocket, and displayed it. " I am a huissier's clerk," 
 he then exclaimed ; " and I called in reference to this 
 little matter a note of hand for five hundred and 
 eighty-three francs, value received in goods, signed 
 Vantrasson, and made payable to the order of a person 
 named Barutin." 
 
 " An execution ! " said the woman, whose voice sud- 
 denly soured. " Vantrasson, wake up, and come and 
 see about this." 
 
 This summons was unnecessary. On hearing the 
 words "note of hand," the man had lifted his head; 
 and at the name of Barutin, he rose and approached 
 with a heavy, uncertain step, as if he had not yet slept 
 off his intoxication. He was younger than his wife, 
 tall, with a well-proportioned and athletic form. His 
 features were regular, but the abuse of alcohol and 
 all sorts of excesses had greatly marred them, and their 
 present expression was one of ferocious brutishness. 
 " What's that you are talking about ? " he asked in .a 
 harsh, grating voice. " Is it to mock people that you 
 come and ask for money on the 15th of October rent 
 day? Where have you seen any money left after the 
 landlord has made his round? Besides, what is this 
 bill ? Give it me to look at." 
 
 M. Fortunat was not guilty of such folly; he did^not 
 intrust the paper to Vantrasson's hand, but held it a 
 little distance from him, and then read it aloud. 
 
 When he had finished : " That note fell due eighteen 
 months ago," declared Vantrasson. " It is worth 
 nothing now " 
 
"WHAT is THIS BILL? GIVE IT ME TO LOOK AT" 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 35 
 
 "You are mistaken a note of this kind is of value 
 any time within five years after the day it goes to 
 protest/' 
 
 -' Possibly ; but as Barutin has failed, and gone no 
 one knows where, I am released " 
 
 " Another mistake on your part. You owe these five 
 hundred and eighty-three francs to the person who 
 bought this note at Barutin's sale, and who has given 
 my employer orders to prosecute " 
 
 The blood had risen to Vantrasson's face. "And 
 what of that? Do you suppose Pve never been sued 
 for debts before? Even the king can't take anything 
 from a person who possesses nothing; and I own 
 nothing. My furniture is all pawned or mortgaged, and 
 my stock is not worth a hundred francs. When your 
 employer finds it useless to waste money in worrying me, 
 he'll let me alone. You can't injure a man like me." 
 
 " Do you really think so ? " 
 
 " I'm sure of it." 
 
 " Unfortunately you are again mistaken, for al- 
 though the holder of the note doesn't care so very 
 much about obtaining his dues, he'll spend his own 
 money like water to make trouble for you." And 
 thereupon M. Fortunat began to draw a vivid and 
 frightful picture of a poor debtor pursued by a rich 
 creditor who harassed him, and tortured him, and 
 hounded him everywhere, until not even a change of 
 clothing was left him. 
 
 Vantrasson rolled his eyes and brandished his for- 
 midable fist in the most defiant manner; but his wife 
 was evidently much alarmed. At last she could bear 
 it no longer, and rising hastily she led her husband to 
 the rear of the shop, saying : " Come, I must speak 
 with you." 
 
36 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 lie followed her, and they remained for some little 
 time conversing together in a low tone, but with excited 
 gestures. When they returned, the woman opened the 
 conversation. " Alas ! sir/' she said to M. Fortunat, 
 " we have no money just now ; business is so very 
 bad, and if you prosecute us, we are lost. What can 
 be done? You look like an honest man; give us your 
 advice." 
 
 M. Fortunat did not reply at once ; he was apparently 
 absorbed in thought, but suddenly he exclaimed : " One 
 owes a duty to unfortunate folks, and I'm going to tell 
 you the exact truth. My employer, who isn't a bad 
 man at heart, hasn't the slightest desire for revenge. 
 He said to me : ' Go and see these Vantrassons, and if 
 they seem to be worthy people, propose a compromise. 
 If they choose to accept it, I shall be quite satisfied.' " 
 
 " And what is this compromise ? " 
 
 " It is this : you must write an acknowledgment of 
 the debt on a sheet of stamped paper, together with a 
 promise to pay a little on account each month. In 
 exchange I will give you this note of hand." 
 
 The husband and wife exchanged glances, and it was 
 the woman who said : " We accept." 
 
 But to carry out this arrangement it was necessary 
 to have a sheet of stamped paper, and the spurious 
 clerk had neglected to provide himself with some. This 
 circumstance seemed to annoy him greatly, and you 
 might almost have sworn that he regretted the conces- 
 sion he had promised. Did he think of going? Madame 
 Vantrasson feared so, and turning eagerly to her hus- 
 band, she exclaimed: "Run to the tobacco shop in the 
 Rue de Levis ; you will find some paper there ! " 
 
 He started off at once, and M. Fortunat breathed 
 freely again. He had certainly retained his composure 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 37 
 
 admirably during the interview, but more than once he 
 had fancied that Vantrasson was about to spring on 
 him, crush him with his brawny hands, tear the note 
 from him, burn it, and then throw him, Fortunat, out 
 into the street, helpless and nearly dead. But now that 
 danger had passed and Madame Vantrasson, fearing he 
 might tire of waiting, was prodigal in her attentions. 
 She brought him the only unbroken chair in the estab- 
 lishment, and insisted that he should partake of some 
 refreshment a glass of wine at the very least. While 
 rummaging among the bottles, she alternately thanked 
 him and complained, declaring she had a right to re- 
 pine, since she had known better days but fate had 
 been against her ever since her marriage, though she 
 had little thought she would end her days in such 
 misery, after having been so happy in the Count de 
 Chalusse's household many years before. 
 
 To all appearance, M. Fortunat listened with the 
 mere superficial interest which ordinary politeness re- 
 quires one to show, but in reality his heart was filled 
 with intense delight. Coming here without any clearly- 
 defined plan, circumstances had served him a thousand 
 times better than he could reasonably have hoped. He 
 had preserved his power over the Vantrassons, had 
 won their confidence, had succeeded in obtaining a 
 tete-a-tete with the wife, and to crown all, this woman 
 alluded, of her own accord, to the very subject upon 
 which he was longing to question her. 
 
 "Ah! if I were only back in the Count's household 
 again/' she exclaimed. " Six hundred francs a year, 
 and gifts worth double that amount. Those were good 
 times for me. But you know how it is one is never 
 content with one's lot, and then the heart is weak " 
 
 She had not succeeded in finding the sweet wine 
 
38 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 which she proposed to her guest; so in its place she 
 substituted a mixture of ratafia and brandy in two large 
 glasses which she placed upon the counter. " One 
 evening, to my sorrow," she resumed, " I met Van- 
 trasson at a ball. It was the 13th day of the month. 
 I might have known no good would come of it. Ah, 
 you should have seen him at that time, in full uniform. 
 He belonged to the Paris Guards then. All the women 
 were crazy about soldiers, and my head was turned, 
 
 too Her tone, her gestures, and the compression 
 
 of her thin lips, revealed the bitterness of her disap- 
 pointment and her unavailing regret. " Ah, these hand- 
 some men ! " she continued ; " don't talk to me about 
 them ! This one had heard of my savings. I had nine- 
 teen thousand francs, so he begged me to marry him, 
 and I was fool enough to consent. Yes, fool for I 
 was forty, and he was only thirty. I might have known 
 it was my money that he wanted, and not me. How- 
 ever, I gave up my situation, and even purchased a 
 substitute for him, in order that I might have him all 
 to myself.* 
 
 She had gradually warmed with her theme, as she 
 described her confidence and blind credulity, and then, 
 with a tragic gesture, as if she desired to drive away 
 these cruel memories, she suddenly seized her glass and 
 emptied it at a draught. 
 
 Chupin, who was still at his post outside, experienced 
 a thrill of envy, and involuntarily licked his lips. " A 
 mixed ratafia," he said, longingly. " I shouldn't object 
 to one myself." 
 
 However, this choice compound seemed to inspire 
 Madame Vantrasson with renewed energy, for, with 
 still greater earnestness, she resumed : " At first, all 
 went well. We employed my savings in purchasing the 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 39 
 
 Hotel des Espagnes, in the Rue Notre Dame des Vic- 
 toires, and business prospered; there was never a 
 vacant room. But any person who has drank, sir, will 
 drink again. Vantrasson kept sober for a few months, 
 but gradually he fell into his old habits. He was in 
 such a condition most of the time that he was scarcely 
 able to ask for food. And if that had been all ! But, 
 unfortunately, he was too handsome a man to be a good 
 husband. One night he didn't come home, and the 
 next day, when I ventured to reproach him very gent- 
 ly, I assure you he answered me with an oath and a 
 blow. All our happiness was over ! Monsieur declared 
 that he was master, and would do as he liked. He 
 drank and carried away all the wine from the cellar 
 he took all the money he remained away for weeks 
 together ; and if I complained more blows ! " 
 
 Her voice trembled, and a tear gathered in her eye; 
 but, wiping it away with the back of her hand, she 
 resumed : " Vantrasson was always drunk, and I spent 
 my time in crying my very eyes out. Business became 
 very bad, and soon everybody left the house. We were 
 obliged to sell it. We did so, and bought a small cafe. 
 But by the end of the year we lost that. Fortunately, 
 I still had a little money left, and so I bought a stock 
 of groceries in my own name; but in less than six 
 months the stock was eaten up, and we were cast into 
 the street. What was to be done? Vantrasson drank 
 worse than ever; he demanded money when he knew 
 that I had none to give him, and he treated me even 
 more cruelly than before. I lost courage and yet one 
 must live! Oh, you wouldn't believe it if I told you 
 how we have lived for the past four years." She did 
 not tell him, but contented herself with adding, " When 
 you begin to go down hill, there is no such thing as 
 
40 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 stopping; you roll lower and lower, until you reach 
 the bottom, as we have done. Here we live, no one 
 knows how ; we have to pay our rent each week, and if 
 we are driven from this place, I see no refuge but the 
 river." 
 
 " If I had been in your position, I should have left 
 my husband," M. Fortunat ventured to remark. 
 
 " Yes it would have been better, no doubt. Peo- 
 ple advised me to do so, and I tried. Three or four 
 times I went away, and yet I always returned it was 
 stronger than myself. Besides, I'm his wife ; I've paid 
 dearly for him ; he's mine I won't yield him to any one 
 else. He beats me, no doubt; I despise him, I hate 
 
 him, and yet I " She poured out part of a glass 
 
 of brandy, and swallowed it; then, with a gesture of 
 rage, she added : "I can't give him up ! It's fate ! As it is 
 now, it will be until the end, until he starves, or I " 
 
 M. Fortunat's countenance wore an expression of 
 profound commiseration. A looker-on would have sup- 
 posed him interested and sympathetic to the last de- 
 gree; but in reality, he was furious. Time was pass- 
 ing, and the conversation was wandering farther and 
 farther from the object of his visit. " I am surprised, 
 madame," said he, "that you never applied to your 
 former employer, the Count de Chalusse." 
 
 " Alas ! I did apply to him for assistance several 
 times " 
 
 "With what result?" 
 
 " The first time I went to him he received me ; I told 
 him my troubles, and he gave me bank-notes to the 
 amount of five thousand francs." 
 
 M. Fortunat raised his hands to the ceiling. " Five 
 thousand francs ! " he repeated, in a tone of astonish- 
 ment ; " this count must be very rich " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 41 
 
 " So rich, monsieur, that he doesn't know how much 
 he's worth. He owns, nobody knows how many houses 
 in Paris, chateaux in every part of the country, entire 
 villages, forests his gold comes in by the shovelful." 
 
 The spurious clerk closed his eyes, as if he were daz- 
 zled by this vision of wealth. 
 
 " The second time I went to the count's house," re- 
 sumed Madame Vantrasson, " I didn't see him, but he 
 sent me a thousand francs. The third and last time 
 they gave me twenty francs at the door, and told me 
 that the count had gone on a journey. I understood 
 that I could hope for no further help from him. Be- 
 sides, all the servants had been changed. One morn- 
 ing, without any apparent reason, M. de Chalusse dis- 
 missed all the old servants, so they told me. He even 
 sent away the concierge and the housekeeper." 
 
 "Why didn't you apply to his wife?" 
 
 " M. de Chalusse isn't married. He never has been 
 married." 
 
 From the expression of solicitude upon her guest's 
 features, Madame Vantrasson supposed he was rack- 
 ing his brain to discover some mode of escape from 
 her present difficulties. " If I were in your place," 
 he said, " I should try to interest his relatives and 
 family in my case 
 
 " The count has no relatives." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " He hasn't, indeed. During the ten years I was in 
 his service, I heard him say more than a dozen times 
 that he alone was left of all his family that all the 
 others were dead. People pretend that this is the rea- 
 son why he is so immensely rich." 
 
 M. Fortunat's interest was no longer assumed; he 
 was rapidly approaching the real object of his visit. 
 
42 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " No relatives ! " he muttered. " Who, then, will in- 
 herit his millions when he dies?" 
 
 Madame Vantrasson jerked her head. " Who can 
 say ? " she replied. " Everything will go to the gov- 
 ernment, probably, unless But no, that's impos- 
 sible/' 
 
 "What's impossible?" 
 
 " Nothing. I was thinking of the count's sister, 
 Mademoiselle Hermine/' 
 
 " His sister ! Why, you said just now that he had 
 no relatives." 
 
 " It's the same as if he hadn't ; no one knows what 
 has become of her, poor creature ! Some say that she 
 married; others declare that she died. It's quite a 
 romance." 
 
 M. Isidore Fortunat was literally upon the rack; and 
 to make his sufferings still more horrible, he dared not 
 ask any direct question, nor allow his curiosity to be- 
 come manifest, for fear of alarming the woman. " Let 
 me see," said he ; "I think I am sure that I have 
 heard or that I have read I cannot say which some 
 story about a Mademoiselle de Chalusse. It was some- 
 thing terrible, wasn't it ? " 
 
 " Terrible, indeed. But what I was speaking of 
 happened a long time ago twenty-five or twenty-six 
 years ago, at the very least. I was still in my own part 
 of the country at Besangon. No one knows the exact 
 truth about the affair." 
 
 " What ! not even you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I that's an entirely different thing. When 
 I entered the count's service, six years later, there was 
 still an old gardener who knew the whole story, and 
 who told it to me, making me swear that I would never 
 betray his confidence." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 43 
 
 Lavish of details as she had been in telling her own 
 story,, it was evident that she was determined to exer- 
 cise a prudent reserve in everything connected with the 
 De Chalusse family; and M. Fortunat inwardly cursed 
 this, to him, most unseasonable discretion. But he was 
 experienced in these examinations, and he had at his 
 command little tricks for loosening tongues., which even 
 an investigating magistrate might have envied. With- 
 out seeming to attach the slightest importance to 
 Madame Vantrasson's narrative, he rose with a startled 
 air, like a man who suddenly realizes that he has for- 
 gotten himself. " Zounds ! " he exclaimed, " we sit 
 here gossiping, and it's growing late. I really can't 
 wait for your husband. If I remain here any longer, I 
 shall miss the last omnibus ; and I live on the other side 
 of the river, near the Luxembourg." 
 
 "But our agreement, monsieur?" 
 
 " We will draw that up at some future time. I shall 
 be passing again, or I will send one of my colleagues 
 to see you." 
 
 It was Madame Vantrasson's turn to tremble now. 
 She feared, if she allowed this supposed clerk to go 
 without signing the agreement, that the person who 
 came in his stead might not prove so accommodating; 
 and even if he called again himself, he might not be so 
 kindly disposed. " Wait just a moment longer, mon- 
 sieur," she pleaded ; " my husband will soon be back, 
 and the last omnibus doesn't leave the Rue de Levis 
 until midnight." 
 
 " I wouldn't refuse, but this part of the suburbs is 
 so lonely." 
 
 " Vantrasson will see you on your way." And, re- 
 solved to detain him at any cost, she poured out a fresh 
 glass of liquor for him, and said : " Where were we ? 
 
44 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 Oh, yes ! I was about to tell you Mademoiselle Her- 
 mine's story." 
 
 Concealing his delight with an assumed air of resig- 
 nation, M. Fortunat reseated himself,, to the intense 
 disgust of Chupin, who was thoroughly tired of wait- 
 ing outside in the cold. 
 
 " I must tell you," began Madame Vantrasson, " that 
 when this happened at least twenty-five years ago 
 the De Chalusse family lived in the Rue Saint-Domi- 
 nique. They occupied a superb mansion, with exten- 
 sive grounds, full of splendid trees like those in the 
 Tuileries gardens. Mademoiselle Hermine, who was 
 then about eighteen or nineteen years old, was, accord- 
 ing to all accounts, the prettiest young creature ever 
 seen. Her skin was as white as milk, she had a pro- 
 fusion of golden hair, and her eyes were as blue as 
 forget-me-nots. She was very kind and generous, they 
 say, only, like all the rest of the family, she was very 
 haughty and obstinate oh, obstinate enough to allow 
 herself to be roasted alive over a slow fire rather than 
 yield an inch. That's the count's nature exactly. Hav- 
 ing served him, I know something about it, to be sure, 
 and " 
 
 " Excuse me," interrupted M. Fortunat, who was 
 determined to prevent these digressions, " and Made- 
 moiselle Hermine ? " 
 
 " I was coming to her. Although she was very beau- 
 tiful and immensely rich, she had no suitors for it 
 was generally understood that she was to marry a 
 marquis, whose father was a particular friend of the 
 family. The parents had arranged the matter between 
 them years before, and nothing was wanting but the 
 young lady's consent ; but Mademoiselle Hermine abso- 
 lutely refused to hear the marquis's name mentioned. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 45 
 
 They did everything to persuade her to consent to this 
 marriage ; they employed prayers and threats alike, but 
 they might as well have talked to a stone. When they 
 asked her why she refused to marry the marquis, she 
 replied, ' Because ' and that was all. In fact, at last 
 she declared she would leave home and take refuge in 
 a convent, if they didn't cease to torment her. Her 
 relatives were certain there must be some reason for 
 her refusal. It isn't natural for a girl to reject a suitor 
 who is young, handsome, rich, and a marquis besides. 
 Her friends suspected there was something she wouldn't 
 confess; and M. Raymond swore that he would watch 
 his sister, and discover her secret." 
 
 "M. Raymond is the present Count de Chalusse, I 
 suppose?" inquired M. Fortunat. 
 
 "Yes, monsieur. Such was the state of matters 
 when, one night, the gardener thought he heard a noise 
 in the pavilion, at the end of the garden. This pavilion 
 was very large. I have seen it. It contained a sitting- 
 room, a billiard-room, and a large fencing-hall. Nat- 
 urally enough, the gardener got up to go and see what 
 was the matter. As he left the house, he fancied he 
 saw two persons moving about among the trees. He 
 ran after them, but could find nothing. They had made 
 their escape through a small gate leading from, the gar- 
 den into the street. When the gardener was telling me 
 this story, he declared again and again that he had 
 fancied the noise he had heard was made by some of 
 the servants trying to leave the house secretly, and for 
 this reason he didn't give the alarm. However, he hur- 
 ried to the pavilion, but on seeing no light there, he 
 went back to bed with an easy mind." 
 
 " And it was Mademoiselle Hermine eloping with a 
 lover ? " asked M. Fortunat. 
 
46 THE COUNT'S MILLION? 
 
 Madame Vantrasson seemed as disappointed as an 
 actor who has been deprived of an opportunity of pro- 
 ducing a grand effect. " Wait a moment/' she re- 
 plied, "and you'll see. The night passed, morning 
 came, and then the breakfast hour. But Mademoiselle 
 Hermine did not make her appearance. Some one was 
 sent to rap at her door there was no answer. The 
 door was opened the young lady was not in her room, 
 and the bed had not even been disturbed. In a few 
 moments the whole household was in the wildest com- 
 motion; the mother weeping, and the father half wild 
 with rage and sorrow. Of course, the next thought 
 was of Mademoiselle Hermine's brother, and he was 
 sent for. But, he, too, was not in his room, and his 
 bed had not been touched. The excitement was becom- 
 ing frenzy, when it occurred to the gardener to men- 
 tion what he had heard and seen on the previous night. 
 They hastened to the pavilion, and discovered what? 
 Why, M. Raymond stretched upon the ground, stiff, 
 cold, and motionless, weltering in his own blood. One 
 of his rigid hands still grasped a sword. They lifted 
 him up, carried him to the house, laid him upon his 
 bed, and sent for a physician. He had received two 
 dangerous wounds; one in the throat, the other in the 
 breast. For more than a month he hung between life 
 and death, and six weeks elapsed before he had strength 
 to relate what had happened. He was lighting a cigar 
 at his window when he thought he saw a woman's form 
 flit through the garden. A suspicion that it might be 
 his sister flashed through his mind; so he hastened 
 down, stole noiselessly into the pavilion, and there he 
 found his sister and a young man who was absolutely 
 unknown to him. He might have killed the intruder, 
 but instead of doing so, he told him they would fight 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 47 
 
 then and there. Weapons were within reach, and they 
 fought,, with the result that Raymond was wounded 
 twice, in quick succession, and fell. His adversary, 
 supposing him dead, thereupon fled from the spot, tak- 
 ing Mademoiselle Hermine with him." 
 
 At this point in her narrative Madame Vantrasson 
 evinced a desire to pause and draw a breath, and per- 
 haps partake of some slight refreshment ; but M. For- 
 tunat was impatient. The woman's husband might 
 return at any moment. " And, after that ? " he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " After that well M. Raymond recovered, and in 
 about three months' time he was out again ; but the 
 parents, who were old folks, had received their death- 
 blow. They never rallied from the shock. Perhaps 
 they felt that it was their own hard-heartedness and 
 obstinacy that had caused their daughter's ruin and 
 remorse is hard to bear. They waned perceptibly from 
 day to day, and during the following year they were 
 borne to the cemetery within two months of each 
 other/' 
 
 From the spurious clerk's demeanor it was easy to 
 see that he had ceased thinking about his omnibus, and 
 his hostess felt both reassured and flattered. "And 
 Mademoiselle Hermine ? " he inquired, eagerly. 
 
 " Alas ! monsieur, no one ever knew where she went, 
 or what became of her." 
 
 " Didn't they try to find her? " 
 
 "They searched for her everywhere, for I don't 
 know how long; all the ablest detectives in France and 
 in foreign countries tried to find her, but not one of 
 them succeeded in discovering the slightest trace of 
 her whereabouts. M. Raymond promised an enormous 
 sum to the man who would find his sister's betrayer. 
 
48 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 He wished to kill him, and he sought for him for 
 years; but all in vain." 
 
 " And did they never rejeive any tidings of this un- 
 fortunate girl?" 
 
 " I was told that they heard from her twice. On 
 the morning following her flight her parents received 
 a letter, in which she implored their forgiveness. Five 
 or six months later, she wrote again to say that she 
 knew her brother was not dead. She confessed that 
 she was a wicked, ungrateful girl that she had been 
 mad; but she said that her punishment had come, and 
 it was terrible. She added that every link was severed 
 between herself and her friends, and she hoped they 
 would forget her as completely as if she had never 
 existed. She went so far as to say that her children 
 should never know who their mother was, and that 
 never in her life again would she utter the name which 
 she had so disgraced." 
 
 It was the old, sad story of a ruined girl paying for 
 a moment's madness with her happiness and all her 
 after life. A terrible drama, no doubt; but one that 
 is of such frequent occurrence that it seems as com- 
 monplace as life itself. Thus any one who was ac- 
 quainted with M. Isidore Fortunat would have been 
 surprised to see how greatly he was moved by such a 
 trifle. " Poor girl ! " said he, in view of saying some- 
 thing. And then, in a tone of assumed carelessness, 
 he inquired : " Did they never discover what scoundrel 
 carried Mademoiselle de Chalusse away ? " 
 
 " Never. Who he was, whence he came, whether he 
 was young or old, how he became acquainted with 
 Mademoiselle Hermine these questions were never 
 answered. It was rumored at one time that he was an 
 American, a captain in the navy; but that was only a 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 49 
 
 rumor. To tell the truth, they never even discovered 
 his name." 
 
 "What, not even his name?" 
 
 " Not even his name. 7 ' 
 
 Unable to master his emotion, M. Fortunat had at 
 least the presence of mind to rise and step back into 
 the darker part of the shop. But his gesture of dis- 
 appointment and the muttered oath that fell from his 
 lips did not escape Madame Vantrasson. She was 
 startled, and from that moment she looked upon the 
 supposed clerk with evident distrust. It was not long 
 before he again resumed his seat nearer the counter, 
 still a trifle pale, perhaps, but apparently calm. Two 
 questions more seemed indispensable to him, and yet 
 either one of them would be sure to arouse suspicion. 
 Nevertheless, he resolved to incur the risk of betray- 
 ing himself. And, after all, what would it matter now ? 
 Did he not possess the information he had wished for, 
 at least as much of it as it was in this woman's power 
 to impart ? "I can scarcely tell you, my dear madame, 
 how much your narrative has interested me," he began. 
 " I can confess now that I am slightly acquainted with 
 the Count de Chalusse, and that I have frequently vis- 
 ited the house in the Rue de Courcelles, where he now 
 resides." 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed the woman, taking a hasty in- 
 ventory of M. Fortunat's toilette. 
 
 " Yes, I on the part of my employer, understand. 
 Each time I've been to visit M. de Chalusse's I've seen 
 a young lady whom I took for his daughter there. I 
 was wrong, no doubt, since he isn't a married man " 
 
 He paused. Astonishment and anger seemed to be 
 almost suffocating his hostess. Without understand- 
 ing how or why, she felt convinced that she had been 
 
50 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 duped; and if she had obeyed her first impulse ehe 
 would have attacked M. Isidore then and there. If 
 she restrained this impulse, if she made an effort to 
 control herself, it was only because she thought she 
 held a better revenge in reserve. 
 
 " A young lady in the count's house ! " she said, 
 thoughtfully. " That's scarcely possible. I've never 
 seen her; I've never heard her spoken of. How long 
 has she been there?" 
 
 " For six or seven months ? " 
 
 " In that case, I can't absolutely deny it. It's two 
 years since I set foot in the count's house." 
 
 " I fancied this young lady might be the count's niece 
 Mademoiselle Hermine's daughter." 
 
 Madame Vantrasson shook her head. " Put that 
 fancy out of your head," she remarked. "The count 
 said that his sister was dead to him from the evening 
 of her flight." 
 
 "Who can this young girl be, then?" 
 
 " Bless me ! I don't know. What sort of a looking 
 person is she ? " 
 
 " Very tall ; a brunette." 
 
 "How old is she?" 
 
 " Eighteen or nineteen." 
 
 The woman made a rapid calculation on her fingers. 
 " Nine and four are thirteen," she muttered, " and five 
 are eighteen. Ah, ha! why not? I must look into 
 this/' 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 " Nothing ; a little reflection I was making to myself. 
 Do you know this young lady's name ? " 
 
 " It's Marguerite." 
 
 The woman's face clouded. " No ; it can't be then/' 
 she muttered, in a scarcely audible voice. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS M 
 
 M. Fortunat was on coals of fire. It was evident 
 that this frightful creature, even if she knew nothing 
 definite, had some idea, some vague suspicion of the 
 truth. How could he compel her to speak now that 
 she was on her guard? He had not time to ascertain,, 
 for the door suddenly opened, and Vantrasson appeared 
 on the threshold. He was scarcely sober when he left 
 the shop, but now he was fairly drunk ; his heavy sham- 
 ble had become a stagger. " Oh, you wretch, you 
 brigand ! " howled his wife ; " you've been drinking 
 again ! " 
 
 He succeeded in maintaining his equilibrium, and, 
 gazing at her with the phlegmatic stare peculiar to in- 
 toxicated men, he replied : " Well, what of that ! Can't 
 I have a little pleasure with my friends ? I came across 
 a couple of men who were just taking their fifteenth 
 glass; why should I refuse a compliment?" 
 
 " You can't hold yourself up." 
 
 " That's true." And to prove it he tumbled on to a 
 chair. 
 
 A torrent of abuse now flowed from Madame Van- 
 trasson's lips ! M. Fortunat only imperfectly distin- 
 guished the words "thief," "spy," and "detective;" 
 but he could not mistake the meaning of the looks 
 which she alternately gave her husband and himself. 
 " If s a fortunate thing for you that my husband is in 
 this condition," her glances plainly implied, "other- 
 wise there would be an explanation, and then we should 
 see " 
 
 "I've had a lucky escape," thought the spurious 
 clerk. But as matters stood there was nothing to fear. It 
 was a case where one could show a brave front to the 
 enemy without incurring the slightest danger. " Let 
 your hurband alone," said he. " If he has only brought 
 
52 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the paper that he was sent to fetch, I sha'n't have lost 
 my evening to oblige you." 
 
 Vantrasson had brought not one sheet of stamped 
 paper, but two. A bad pen and some muddy ink were 
 produced, and M. Fortunat began to draw up an ac- 
 knowledgment according to the established formula. 
 However, it was necessary to mention the name of the 
 creditor of whom he had spoken, and not wishing to 
 state his own, he used that of poor Victor Chupin, who 
 was at that very moment shivering at the door, little 
 suspecting what liberty was being taken with his cog- 
 nomen. 
 
 " Chupin ! " repeated the vixen, as if to engrave the 
 name on her memory ; " Victor Chupin ! I should 
 just like to see him," she added, viciously. 
 
 When the document was finished, it became neces- 
 sary to wake Vantrasson, so that he might sign it. He 
 did so with very good grace, and his wife appended her 
 signature beside her husband's. Thereupon M. For- 
 tunat gave them in exchange the note which had served 
 as a pretext for his visit. "And above all/' he re- 
 marked, as he opened the door to go, " don't forget 
 that you are to pay something on account each month." 
 
 " Go to the devil, and your account with you ! " 
 growled Madame Vantrasson. 
 
 But Fortunat did not hear this. He was already 
 walking down the road by the side of Chupin, who 
 was saying : " Well, here you are, at last, m'sieur ! I 
 thought you had taken a lease of that old barrack. If 
 ever I come here again, I'll bring a foot-warmer with 
 me." 
 
 But one of those fits of profound abstraction to which 
 determined seekers after truth are subject had taken 
 possession of M. Fnrtunat, and made him oblivious of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 53 
 
 all surrounding circumstances. His heart had been 
 full of hope when he reached the Asnieres Road, but 
 he went away gloomy and despondent; and quite un- 
 conscious of the darkness, the mud, and the rain, which 
 was again falling, he silently plodded along in the mid- 
 dle of the highway. Chupin was obliged to stop him 
 at the city gate, and remind him that the cab was 
 waiting. 
 
 " That's true," was M. Fortunat's only answer. He 
 entered the vehicle, certainly without knowing it; and 
 as they rolled homeward, the thoughts that filled his 
 brain to overflowing found vent in a sort of mono- 
 logue, of which Chupin now and then caught a few 
 words. "What a piece of business!" he muttered 
 " what a piece of business ! I've had seven years' ex- 
 perience in such matters, and yet I've never met with 
 an affair so shrouded in mystery. My forty thousand 
 francs are in a precarious condition. Certainly I've 
 lost money before through heirs whose existence I 
 hadn't even suspected; but by reinstating these same 
 heirs in their rights, I've regained my lost money, and 
 received a handsome reward in addition; but in this 
 case all is darkness ; there isn't a single gleam of light 
 not the slightest clew. If I could only find them! 
 But how can I search for people whose names I don't 
 even know for people who have escaped all the in- 
 quiries of the police ? And where shall I look for them 
 in Europe, in America ? It would be sheer madness ! 
 To whom, then, will the count's millions go ? " 
 
 It was only the sudden stoppage of the cab in front 
 of his own door that recalled M. Fortunat to the reali- 
 ties of life. " Here are twenty francs, Victor," he said 
 to Chupin. " Pay the driver, and keep the rest your- 
 self." 
 
54 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 As he spoke, he sprang nimbly to the ground. A 
 handsome brougham, drawn by two horses, was stand- 
 ing before the house. " The Marquis de Valorsay's 
 carriage/' muttered M. Fortunat. " He has been 
 very patient; he has waited for me or, rather, he 
 has waited for my ten thousand francs. Well, we 
 shall see." 
 
 III. 
 
 M. FORTUNAT had scarcely started off on his visit to 
 the Vantrassons when the Marquis de Valorsay reached 
 the Place de la Bourse. 
 
 " Monsieur has gone out," said Madame Dodelin, as 
 she opened the door. 
 
 " You must be mistaken, my good woman." 
 
 " No, no ; my master said you would, perhaps, wait 
 for him." 
 
 " Very well ; I will do so." 
 
 Faithful to the orders she had received, the servant 
 conducted the visitor to the drawing-room, lit the tapers 
 in the candelabra, and retired. " This is very strange!" 
 growled the marquis. " Monsieur Fortunat makes an 
 appointment, Monsieur Fortunat expects me to wait 
 for him ! What will happen next ? " However, he 
 drew a newspaper from his pocket, threw himself into 
 an arm-chair, and waited. 
 
 By his habits and tastes, the Marquis de Valorsay 
 belonged to that section of the aristocracy which has 
 coined the term "high life" in view of describing its 
 own manners and customs. The matters that engrossed 
 the marquis's frivolous mind were club-life and first 
 performances at the opera and the leading theatres, 
 social duties and visits to the fashionable watering- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 55 
 
 places, racing and the shooting and hunting seasons, 
 together with his mistress and his tailor. 
 
 He considered that to ride in a steeple-chase was an 
 act of prowess worthy of his ancestors; and when he 
 galloped past the stand, clad as a jockey, in top-boots 
 and a violet silk jacket, he believed he read admira- 
 tion ki every eye. This was his every-day life, which 
 had been enlivened by a few salient episodes : two duels, 
 an elopement with a married woman, a twenty-six 
 hours' seance at the gaming table, and a fall from his 
 horse, while hunting, which nearly cost him his life. 
 These acts of valor had raised him considerably in the 
 estimation of his friends, and procured him a celebrity 
 of which he was not a little proud. The newspaper 
 reporters were constantly mentioning his name, and 
 the sporting journals never failed to chronicle his de- 
 parture from Paris or his arrival in the city. 
 
 Unfortunately, such a life of busy idleness has its 
 trials and its vicissitudes, and M. de Valorsay was a 
 living proof of this. He was only thirty-three, but in 
 spite of the care he expended upon his toilette, he looked 
 at least forty. Wrinkles were beginning to show 
 themselves; it required all the skill of his valet to 
 conceal the bald spots on his cranium; and since his 
 fall from his horse, he had been troubled by a slight 
 stiffness in his right leg, which stiffness became perfect 
 lameness in threatening weather. Premature lassitude 
 pervaded his entire person, and when he relaxed in 
 vigilance even his eyes betrayed a distaste for every- 
 thing weariness, satiety as it were. All the same, 
 however, he bore himself with an undeniable air of 
 distinction, albeit the haughtiness of his manner indi- 
 cated an exaggerated idea of his own importance. He 
 was indeed in the habit of treating all those whom 
 
56 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 he considered his inferiors with supercilious suffi- 
 ciency. 
 
 The clock on M. Fortunat's mantel-shelf struck eleven 
 at last and the marquis rose to his feet with a muttered 
 oath. " This is too much ! " he growled, angrily. 
 
 He looked about for a bell, and seeing none, he was 
 reduced to the dire necessity of opening the door him- 
 self, and calling some one. Madame Dodelin answered 
 the summons. " Monsieur said he would return before 
 midnight/' she replied ; " so he will certainly be here. 
 There is no one like him for punctuality. Won't mon- 
 sieur have patience a little longer?" 
 
 " Well, I will wait a few moments ; but, my good 
 woman, light the fire ; my feet are frozen ! " 
 
 M. Fortunafs drawing-room being used but seldom, 
 was really as frigid as an iceberg; and to make mat- 
 ters still worse, M. de Valorsay was in evening dress, 
 with only a light overcoat. The servant hesitated for 
 an instant, thinking this visitor difficult to please, and 
 inclined to make himself very much at home, still she 
 obeyed. 
 
 " I think I ought to go," muttered the marquis. " I 
 really think I ought to go." And yet he remained. 
 Necessity, it should be remembered, effectually quiets 
 the revolts of pride. 
 
 Left an orphan in his early childhood, placed in pos- 
 session of an immense fortune at the age of twenty- 
 three, M. de Valorsay had entered life like a famished 
 man enters a dining-room. His name entitled him to- 
 a high position in the social world; and he installed 
 himself at table without asking how much the banquet 
 might cost him. It cost him dear, as he discovered at 
 the end of the first year, on noting that his disburse- 
 ments had considerably exceeded his large income. It 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 57 
 
 was very evident that if he went on in this way, each 
 twelvemonth would deepen an abyss where in the one 
 hundred and sixty thousand francs a year, left him by 
 his father, would finally be swallowed up. But he had 
 plenty of time to reflect upon this unpleasant possibility 
 ere it could come to pass ! And, besides, he found his 
 present life so delightful, and he obtained so much 
 gratification for his money, that he was unwilling to 
 make any change. He possessed several fine estates, 
 and he found plenty of men who were only too glad to 
 lend him money on such excellent security. He bor- 
 rowed timidly at first, but more boldly when he dis- 
 covered what a mere trifle a mortgage is. Moreover, 
 his wants increased in proportion to his vanity. Oc- 
 cupying a certain position in the opinion of his ac- 
 quaintances, he did not wish to descend from the 
 heights to which they had exalted him; and the very 
 fact that he had been foolishly extravagant one year 
 made it necessary for him to be guilty of similar folly 
 during the succeeding twelvemonth. He failed to pay 
 his creditors the interest that was due on his loans. 
 They did not ask him for it ; and perhaps he forgot that 
 it was slowly but surely accumulating, and that at the 
 end of a certain number of years the amount of his in- 
 debtedness would be doubled. He never thought what 
 the end would be. He became absolutely ignorant of 
 the condition of his affairs, and really arrived at the 
 conclusion that his resources were inexhaustible. He 
 believed this until one day when on going to his lawyer 
 for some money, that gentleman coldly said: "You 
 requested me to obtain one hundred thousand francs 
 for you, Monsieur le Marquis but I have only been 
 able to procure fifty thousand here they are. And do 
 not hope for more. All your real estate is encumbered 
 
58 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 beyond its value. Your creditors will probably leave 
 you in undisturbed possession for another year it will 
 be to their interest but when it has elapsed they will 
 take possession of their own, as they have a perfect 
 right to do." Then, with a meaning smile, the smile 
 of a wily prime minister, he added : " If I were in your 
 place, Monsieur le- Marquis, I would profit by this year 
 of grace. You undoubtedly understand what I mean. 
 I have the honor to wish you good-morning." 
 
 What an awakening after a glorious dream that 
 had lasted for ten years. M. de Valor say was stunned 
 crushed. For three days he remained immured in his 
 own room, obstinately refusing to receive any one. 
 " The marquis is ill," was his valet's answer to every 
 visitor. 
 
 M. de Valorsay felt that he must have time to re- 
 gain his mental equilibrium to look his situation 
 calmly in the face. It was a frightful one, for his ruin 
 Was complete, absolute. He could save nothing from 
 the wreck. What was to become of him? What could 
 he do ? He set his wits to work ; but he found that he 
 was incapable of plying any kind of avocation. All the 
 energy he had been endowed with by nature had been 
 squandered exhausted in pandering to his self-conceit. 
 If he had been younger he might have turned soldier; 
 but at his age he had not even this resource. Then it 
 was that his notary's smile recurred to his mind. " His 
 advice was decidedly good," he muttered. " All is not 
 yet lost; one way of escape still remains marriage." 
 
 And why, indeed, shouldn't he marry, and marry a 
 rich wife too? No one knew anything about his mis- 
 fortune; for a year at least, he would retain all the 
 advantages that wealth bestows upon its possessor. His 
 name alone was a great advantage. It would be very 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 59 
 
 strange if he could not find some manufacturer's or 
 banker's daughter who would be only too delighted to 
 have a marquisial coronet emblazoned on her carriage 
 panels. 
 
 Having arrived at this conclusion, M. de Valorsay 
 began his search, and it was not long before he thought 
 he had found what he was seeking. But something 
 was still necessary. The bestowers of large dowers are 
 inclined to be suspicious ; they like to have a clear un- 
 derstanding as to the financial position of the suitors 
 who present themselves, and they not unfrequently ask 
 for information. Accordingly, before committing him- 
 self, M. de Valorsay understood that it was necessary 
 he should provide himself with an intelligent and de- 
 voted adviser. There must be some one to hold his 
 creditors in check, to silence them, and obtain sundry 
 concessions from them in a word, some one to inter- 
 est them in his success. With this object in view, M. 
 de Valorsay applied to his notary ; but the latter utterly 
 refused to mix himself up in any such affair, and de- 
 clared that the marquis's suggestion was almost an 
 insult. Then touched, perhaps, by his client's apparent 
 despair, he said, " But I can mention a person who 
 might be of service to you. Go to M. Isidore Fortunat, 
 No. 27 Place de la Bourse. If you succeed in interest- 
 ing him in your marriage, it is an accomplished fact." 
 
 It was under these circumstances that the marquis 
 became acquainted with M. Fortunat. M. de Valorsay 
 was a man of no little penetration, and on his first visit 
 he carefully weighed his new acquaintance. He found 
 him to be the very counsellor he desired prudent, and 
 at the same time courageous; fertile in expedients; a 
 thorough master of the art of evading the law, and not 
 at all troubled by scruples. With such an adviser, it 
 
60 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 would be mere child's play to conceal his financial em- 
 barrassments and deceive the most suspicious father- 
 in-law. So M. de Valorsay did not hesitate a mo- 
 ment. He frankly disclosed his pecuniary condition 
 and his matrimonial hopes, and concluded by promising 
 M. Fortunat a certain percentage on the bride's dowry, 
 to be paid on the day following the marriage. 
 
 After a prolonged conference, the agreement was 
 drawn up and signed, and that very day M. Fortunat 
 took the nobleman's interests in hand. How heartily, 
 and with what confidence in his success, is shown by 
 the fact that he had advanced forty thousand francs 
 for his client's use, out of his own private purse. After 
 such a proof of confidence the marquis could hardly 
 have been dissatisfied with his adviser; in point of 
 fact, he was delighted with him, and all the more so, 
 as this invaluable man always treated him with extreme 
 deference, verging on servility. And in M. de Valor- 
 say's eyes this was a great consideration; for he was 
 becoming more arrogant and more irascible in pro- 
 portion as his right to be so diminished. Secretly dis- 
 gusted with himself, and deeply humiliated by the 
 shameful intrigue to which he had stooped, he took a 
 secret satisfaction in crushing his accomplice with his 
 imaginary superiority and lordly disdain. According as 
 his humor was good or bad, he called him " my dear 
 extortioner," " Mons. Fortunat," or " Master Twenty- 
 per-cent." But though these sneers and insults drove 
 the obsequious smile from M. Fortunat's lips, he was 
 quite capable of including them in the bill under the 
 head of sundries. 
 
 The unvarying deference and submission which M. 
 de Valorsay's adviser displayed made his failure to 
 keep the present appointment all the more remarkable. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 61 
 
 Such neglect of the commonest rules of courtesy was 
 inconceivable on the part of so polite a man; and the 
 marquis's anger gradually changed to anxiety. " What 
 can have happened?" he thought. 
 
 He was trying to decide whether he should leave 
 or stay, when he heard a key grate in the lock of the 
 outer door, and then some quick steps along the ante- 
 room. " At last here he is ! " he muttered, with a 
 sigh of relief. 
 
 He expected to see M. Fortunat enter the room at 
 once, but he was disappointed. The agent had no de- 
 sire to show himself in the garb which he had assumed 
 for his excursion with Chupin ; and so he had hastened 
 to his room to don his wonted habiliments. He also 
 desired a few moments for deliberation. 
 
 If as was most probably the case M. de Valorsay 
 were ignorant of the Count de Chalusse's critical con- 
 dition, was it advisable to tell him of it? M. Fortunat 
 thought not, judging with reason that this would lead 
 to a discussion and very possibly to a rupture, and he 
 wished to avoid anything of the kind until he was quite 
 certain of the count' s death. 
 
 Meanwhile the marquis was thinking he was a 
 trifle late about it that he had done wrong to wait 
 in that drawing-room for three mortal hours. Was 
 such conduct worthy of him? Had he shown himself 
 proper respect? Would not M. Fortunat construe this 
 as an acknowledgment of the importance of his ser- 
 vices and his client's urgent need? Would he not be- 
 come more exacting, more exorbitant in his demands? 
 If the marquis could have made his escape unheard, 
 he would, no doubt, have done so ; but this was out of 
 the question. So he resorted to a stratagem which 
 seemed to him likely to -save his compromised dignity. 
 
62 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 He stretched himself out in his arm-chair, closed his 
 eyes, and pretended to doze. Then, when M. Fortunat 
 at last entered the drawing-room he sprang up as if he 
 were suddenly aroused from slumber, rubbed his eyes, 
 and exclaimed: "Eh! what's that? Upon my word I 
 must have been asleep ! " 
 
 But M. Fortunat was not deceived. He noticed, on 
 the floor, a torn and crumpled newspaper, which be- 
 trayed the impatience and anger his client had ex- 
 perienced during his long waiting. "Well/' resumed 
 the marquis, "what time is it? Half-past twelve? 
 This is a pretty time to keep an appointment fixed for 
 ten o'clock. This is presuming on my good-nature, M. 
 Fortunat! Do you know that my carriage has been 
 waiting below ever since half-past nine, and that my 
 horses have, perhaps, taken cold? A pair of horses 
 worth six hundred louis ! " 
 
 M. Fortunat listened to these reproaches with the 
 deepest humility. "You must excuse me, Monsieur 
 le Marquis/ 5 said he. " If I remained out so much 
 later than usual, it was only because your business in- 
 terests detained me." 
 
 " Zounds ! that is about the same as if it had been 
 your own business that detained you ! " And well 
 pleased with this joke, he added, " Ah well ! How 
 are affairs progressing?" 
 
 " On my side as well as could be desired." 
 
 The marquis had resumed his seat in the chimney- 
 corner, and was poking the fire with a haughty, but 
 poorly assumed air of indifference. " I am listening," 
 he said carelessly. 
 
 " In that case, Monsieur le Marquis, I will state the 
 facts in a few words, without going into particulars. 
 Thanks to an expedient devised by me, we shall obtain 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 63 
 
 for twenty hours a release from all the mortgages that 
 now encumber your estates. On that very day we will 
 request a certificate from the recorder. This certificate 
 will declare that your estates are free from all encum- 
 brances; you will show this statement to M. de Cha- 
 lusse, and all his doubts that is, if he has any will 
 vanish. The plan was very simple; the only difficulty 
 was about raising the money, but I have succeeded in 
 doing so. All your creditors but two lent themselves 
 very readily to the arrangement. I have now won the 
 consent of the two who at first refused, but we shall 
 have to pay dearly for it. It will cost you about twenty- 
 six thousand francs." 
 
 M. de Valorsay was so delighted that he could not 
 refrain from clapping his hands. "Then the affair is 
 virtually concluded/' he exclaimed. " In less than a 
 month Mademoiselle Marguerite will be the Marquise 
 de Valorsay, and I shall have a hundred thousand 
 francs a year again." Then, noting how gravely M. 
 Fortunat shook his head : " Ah ! so you doubt it ! " he 
 cried " Very well ; now it is your turn to listen. Yes- 
 terday I had a long conference with the Count de 
 Chalusse, and everything has been settled. We ex- 
 changed our word of honor, Master Twenty-per-cent. 
 The count does things in a princely fashion; he gives 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite two millions." 
 
 " Two millions ! " the other repeated like an echo. 
 
 "Yes, my dear miser, neither more nor less. Only 
 for private reasons, which he did not explain, the count 
 stipulates that only two hundred thousand francs shall 
 appear in the marriage contract. The remaining eigh- 
 teen hundred thousand francs, he gives to me unre- 
 servedly and unconditionally. Upon my word, I think 
 this very charming. How does it strike you ? " 
 
64 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 M. Fortunat made no reply. M. de Valorsay's gayety, 
 instead of cheering, saddened him. " Ah ! my fine 
 fellow," he thought, "you would sing a different song 
 If you knew that by this time M. de Chalusse is prob- 
 ably dead, and that most likely Mademoiselle Marguer- 
 ite has only her beautiful eyes left her, and will dim 
 them in weeping for her vanished millions." 
 
 But this brilliant scion of the aristocracy had no 
 suspicion of the real state of affairs, for he continued : 
 "You will say, perhaps, it is strange, that I, Ange- 
 Marie Robert Dalbou, Marquis de Valorsay, should 
 marry a girl whose father and mother no one knows, 
 and whose only name is Marguerite. In this respect 
 it is true that the match is not exactly a brilliant one. 
 Still, as it will appear that she merely has a fortune 
 of two hundred thousand francs, no one will accuse 
 me of marrying for money on the strength of my name. 
 On the contrary, it will seem to be a love-match, and 
 people will suppose that I have grown young again." 
 He paused, incensed by M. Fortunat's lack of enthusi- 
 asm. "Judging from your long face, Master Twenty- 
 per-cent, one would fancy you doubted my success," 
 he said. 
 
 " It is always best to doubt," replied his adviser, 
 philosophically. 
 
 The marquis shrugged his shoulders. "Even when 
 one has triumphed over all obstacles ? " he asked sneer- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then, tell me, if you please, what prevents this 
 marriage from being a foregone conclusion ? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle Marguerite's consent, Monsieur le 
 Marquis." 
 
 It was as if a glass of ice-water had been thrown in 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 65 
 
 M. de Valorsay's face. He started, turned as pale as 
 death, and then exclaimed : " I shall have that ; I am 
 sure of it." 
 
 You could not say that M. Fortunat was angry. 
 Such a man, as cold and as smooth as a hundred franc 
 piece, has no useless passions. But he was intensely 
 irritated to hear his client foolishly chanting the paeons 
 of victory, while he was compelled to conceal his grief 
 at the loss of his forty thousand francs, deep in the 
 recesses of his heart. So, far from being touched by 
 the marquis's evident alarm, it pleased him to be able 
 to turn the dagger in the wound he had just inflicted. 
 " You must excuse my incredulity," said he. " It 
 comes entirely from something you, yourself, told me 
 about a week ago." 
 
 "What did I tell you?" 
 
 " That you suspected Mademoiselle Marguerite of 
 a how shall I express it? of a secret preference for 
 some other person." 
 
 The gloomiest despondency had now followed the 
 marquis's enthusiasm and exultation. He was evi- 
 dently in torture. " I more than suspected it," said he. 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " I was certain of it, thanks to the count's house- 
 keeper, Madame Leon, a miserable old woman whom 
 I have hired to look after my interests. She has been 
 watching Mademoiselle Marguerite, and saw a letter 
 written by her " 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Certainly nothing has passed that Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite has any cause to blush for. The letter, 
 which is now in my possession, contains unmistakable 
 proofs of that. She might proudly avow the love she has 
 inspired, and which she undoubtedly returns. Yet " 
 
66 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 M. Fortunat's gaze was so intent that it became 
 unbearable. " You see, then/' he began, " that I had 
 good cause to fear 
 
 Exasperated beyond endurance, M. de Valorsay 
 sprang up so violently that he overturned his chair. 
 " No ! " he exclaimed, " no, a thousand times no ! You 
 are wrong for the man who loves Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite is now ruined. Yes, such is really the case. 
 While we are sitting here, at this very moment, he is 
 lost irredeemably lost. Between him and the woman 
 whom I wish to marry whom I shall marry I have 
 dug so broad and deep an abyss that the strongest love 
 cannot overleap it. It is better and worse than if I 
 had killed him. Dead, he would have been mourned, 
 perhaps; while now, the lowest and most degraded 
 woman would turn from him in disgust, or, even if she 
 loved him, she would not dare to confess it." 
 
 M. Fortunat seemed greatly disturbed. " Have you 
 then put into execution the project the plan you spoke 
 of?" he faltered. "I thought you were only jesting." 
 
 The marquis lowered his head. " Yes," he answered. 
 
 His companion stood for a moment as if petrified, 
 and then suddenly exclaimed: "What! You have 
 done that you a gentleman ? " 
 
 M. de Valorsay paced the floor in a state of intense 
 agitation. Had he caught a glimpse of his own face 
 in the looking-glass, it would have frightened him. 
 " A gentleman ! " he repeated, in a tone of suppressed 
 rage ; " a gentleman ! That word is in everybody's 
 mouth, nowadays. Pray, what do you understand by 
 a gentleman, Mons. Fortunat? No doubt, you mean a 
 heroic idiot who passed through life with a lofty mien, 
 clad in all the virtues, as stoical as Job, and as re- 
 signed as a martyr a sort of moral Don Quixote, 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 67 
 
 preaching the austerest virtue, and practising it ? But, 
 unfortunately, nobility of soul and of purpose are ex- 
 pensive luxuries, and I am a ruined man. I am no 
 saint ! I love life and all that makes life beautiful and 
 desirable and to procure its pleasures I must fight 
 with the weapons of the age. No doubt, it is grand 
 to be honest; but in my case it is so impossible, that I 
 prefer to be dishonest to commit an act of shameful 
 infamy which will yield a hundred thousand francs a 
 year. This man is in my way I suppress him so 
 much the worse for him he has no business to be in 
 my way. If I could have met him openly, I would 
 have dispatched him according to the accepted code 
 of honor; but, then, I should have had to renounce all 
 idea of marrying Mademoiselle Marguerite, so I was 
 obliged to find some other way. I could not choose 
 my means. The drowning man does not reject the 
 plank, which is his only chance of salvation, because it 
 chances to be dirty." 
 
 His gestures were even more forcible than his words ; 
 and when he concluded, he threw himself on to the 
 sofa, holding his head tightly between his hands, as if 
 he felt that it was bursting. Anger choked his utter- 
 ance not anger so much as something he would not 
 confess, the quickening of his own conscience and the 
 revolt of every honorable instinct; for, in spite of his 
 sins of omission, and of commission, never, until this 
 day, had he actually violated any clause of the code 
 acknowledged by men of honor. 
 
 "You have been guilty of a most infamous act, 
 Monsieur le Marquis," said M. Fortunat, coldly. 
 
 " Oh ! no moralizing, if you please." 
 
 "Only evil will come of it." 
 
 The marquis shrugged his shoulders, and in a tone of 
 
68 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 bitter scorn, retorted : " Come, Mons. Fortunat, if you 
 wish to lose the forty thousand francs you advanced to 
 me, it's easy enough to do so. Run to Madame d'Ar- 
 geles's house, ask for M. de Coralth, and tell him I 
 countermand my order. My rival will be saved, and 
 will marry Mademoiselle Marguerite and her millions." 
 
 M. Fortunat remained silent. He could not tell the 
 marquis : " My forty thousand francs are lost already. 
 I know that only too well. Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 is no longer the possessor of millions, and you have 
 committed a useless crime/' However, it was this con- 
 viction which imparted such an accent of eagerness to 
 his words as he continued to plead the cause of virtue 
 and of honesty. Would he have said as much if he had 
 entertained any great hope of the success of the mar- 
 quis's matrimonial enterprise? It is doubtful, still we 
 must do M. Fortunat the justice to admit that he was 
 really and sincerely horrified by what he had unhesi- 
 tatingly styled an " infamous act." _ 
 
 The marquis listened to his agent for a few moments 
 in silence, and then rose to his feet again. "All this 
 is very true," he interrupted ; " but I am, nevertheless, 
 anxious to learn the result of my little plot. For this 
 reason, Monsieur Fortunat, give me at once the five 
 hundred louis you promised me, and I will then bid you 
 good-evening." 
 
 The agent had been preparing himself for this mo- 
 ment, and yet he trembled. " I am deeply grieved, 
 monsieur," he replied, with a doleful smile ; " it was 
 this matter that kept me out so much later than usual 
 this evening. I hoped to have obtained the money from 
 a banker, who has always accommodated me before 
 M. Prosper Bertomy, you know him: he married M. 
 Andre Fauvel's niece " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 69 
 
 " Yes, I know ; proceed, if you please." 
 
 "Ah, well! it was impossible for me to procure the 
 money/' 
 
 The marquis had hitherto been pale, but now his 
 face flushed crimson. " This is a jest, I suppose," said 
 he. 
 
 " Alas ! unfortunately no." 
 
 There was a moment's silence, which the marquis 
 probably spent in reflecting upon the probable conse- 
 quences of this disappointment, for it was in an al- 
 most threatening tone that he eventually exclaimed: 
 " You know that I must have this money at once 
 that I must have it." 
 
 M. Fortunat would certainly have preferred to lose 
 a good pound of flesh rather than the sum of money 
 mentioned; but, on the other hand, he felt that it 
 would not do for him to sever his connection with his 
 client until the death of the Count de Chalusse was 
 certain; and being anxious to save his money and to 
 keep his client, his embarrassment was extreme. " It 
 was the most unfortunate thing in the world," he 
 stammered ; f( I apprehended no difficulty whatever " 
 Then, suddenly clapping his hand to his forehead, he 
 exclaimed : " But, Monsieur le Marquis, couldn't you 
 borrow this amount from one of your friends, the Duke 
 de Champdoce or the Count de Commarin ? that would 
 be a good idea." 
 
 M. de Valorsay was anything but unsophisticated, 
 and his natural shrewdness had been rendered much 
 more acute by the difficulties with which he had re- 
 cently been obliged to contend. M. Fortunat's con- 
 fusion had not escaped his keen glance; and this last 
 suggestion aroused his suspicions at once. " What ! " 
 he said, slowly, and with an air of evident distrust. 
 
70 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 " You give me this advice, Master Twenty-per-cent. 
 This is wonderful ! How long is it since your opinions 
 have undergone such a change ? " 
 
 " My opinions ? " 
 
 " Yes. Didn't you say to me during our first inter- 
 view; 'The thing that will save you, is that you have 
 never in your while life borrowed a louis from a friend. 
 An ordinary creditor only thinks of a large interest; 
 and if that is paid him he holds his peace. A friend 
 is never satisfied until everybody knows that he has 
 generously obliged you. It is far better to apply to a 
 usurer/ I thought all that very sensible, and I quite 
 agreed with you when you added : ' So, Monsieur le 
 Marquis, no borrowing of this kind until after your 
 marriage not on any pretext whatever. Go without 
 eating rather than do it. Your credit is still good ; but 
 it is being slowly undermined and the indiscretion of 
 a friend who chanced to say : " I think Valorsay is hard 
 up," might fire the train, and then you'd explode.' " 
 
 M. Fortunat's embarrassment was really painful to 
 witness. He was not usually wanting in courage, but 
 the events of the evening had shaken his confidence and 
 his composure. The hope of gain and the fear of loss 
 had deprived him of his wonted clearness of mind. 
 Feeling that he had just committed a terrible blunder, 
 he racked his brain to find some way of repairing it, 
 and finding none, his confusion increased. 
 
 " Did you, or didn't you, use that language ? " in- 
 sisted M. de Valorsay. "What have you to say in 
 reply?" 
 
 " Circumstances " 
 
 " What circumstances ? " 
 
 "Urgent need necessity. There is no rule without 
 its exceptions. I did not imagine you would be so 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 71 
 
 rash. I have advanced you forty thousand francs in 
 less than five months it is outrageous. If I were in 
 your place, I would be more reasonable I would econ- 
 
 He paused ! in fact, he was compelled to pause by the 
 piercing glance which M. de Valorsay turned upon him. 
 He was furious with himself. " I am losing my wits/' 
 he thought. 
 
 " Still more wise counsel/' remarked the ruined no- 
 bleman ironically. " While you are about it, why don't 
 you advise me to sell my horses and carriages, and 
 establish myself in a garret in the Rue Amelot? Such 
 a course would seem very natural, wouldn't it? and, 
 of course, it would inspire M. de Chalusse with bound- 
 less confidence ! " 
 
 " But without going to such extremes " 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! " interrupted the marquis, vio- 
 lently. " Better than any one else you know that I 
 cannot retrench, although the reality no longer exists. 
 I am condemned, cost what it may, to keep up appear- 
 ances. That is my only hope of salvation. I have 
 gambled, given expensive suppers, indulged in dissipa- 
 tion of every kind, and I must continue to do so. I 
 have come to hate Ninette Simplon, for whom I have 
 committed so many acts of folly, and yet I still keep 
 her to show that I am rolling in wealth. I have 
 thrown thousand-franc notes out of the window, and I 
 mustn't stop throwing them. Indeed, what would peo- 
 ple say if I stopped! Why, ( Valorsay is a ruined 
 man ! ' Then, farewell to my hopes of marrying an 
 heiress. And so I am always gay and smiling; that is 
 part of my role. What would my servants the twenty 
 spies that I pay what would they think if they saw me 
 thoughtful or disturbed? You would scarcely believe 
 
/2 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 it, M. Fortunat, but I have positively been reduced to 
 dining on credit at my club,, because I had paid, that 
 morning, for a month's provender for my horses ! It 
 is true I have many valuable articles in my house, but 
 I cannot dispose of them. People would recognize 
 them at once; besides, they form a part of my stock- 
 in-trade. An actor doesn't sell his costumes because 
 he's hungry he goes without food and when it's 
 time for the curtain to rise, he dons his satin and vel- 
 vet garments, and, despite his empty stomach, he chants 
 the praises of a bountiful table and rare old wine. 
 That is what I am doing I, Robert Dalbou, Marquis 
 de Valorsay ! At the races at Vincennes, about a fort- 
 night ago, I was bowling along the boulevard behind 
 my four-in-hand, when I heard a laborer say, e How 
 happy those rich people must be ! ' Happy, indeed ! 
 Why, I envied him his lot. He was sure that the mor- 
 row would be like the day that preceded it. On that 
 occasion my entire fortune consisted of a single louis, 
 which I had won at baccarat the evening before. As I 
 entered the enclosure, Isabelle, the flower-girl, handed 
 me a rose for my button-hole. I gave her my louic 
 but I longed to strangle her ! " 
 
 He paused for a moment, and then, in a frenzy of 
 passion, he advanced toward M. Fortunat, who instinc- 
 tively retreated into the protecting embrasure of a win- 
 dow. "And for eight months I have lived this horri- 
 ble life ! " he resumed. " For eight months each mo- 
 ment has been so much torture. Ah! better poverty, 
 prison, and shame ! And now, when the prize is almost 
 won, actuated either by treason or caprice, you try to 
 make all my toil and all my suffering unavailing. You 
 try to thwart me on the very threshold of success ! No ! 
 I swear, by God's sacred name, it shall not be ! I will 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 73 
 
 rather crush you, you miserable scoundrel crush you 
 like a venomous reptile ! " 
 
 There was such a ring of fury in his voice that the 
 crystals of the candelabra vibrated ; and Madame Dode- 
 lin, in her kitchen, heard it, and shuddered. " Some 
 one will certainly do M. Fortunat an injury one of 
 these days/ 7 she thought. 
 
 It was not by any means the first time that M. For- 
 tunat had found himself at variance with clients of a 
 sanguine temperament ; but he had always escaped safe 
 and sound, so that, after all, he was not particularly 
 alarmed in the present instance, as was proved by the 
 fact that he was still calm enough to reflect and plan. 
 " In forty-eight hours I shall be certain of the count's 
 fate/' he thought ; " he will be dead, or he will be in a 
 fair way to recovery so by promising to give this 
 frenzied man what he desires on the day after to- 
 morrow, I shall incur no risk." 
 
 Taking advantage of an opportunity which M. de 
 Valorsay furnished, on pausing to draw breath, he 
 hastily exclaimed, " Really, Monsieur le Marquis, I 
 cannot understand your anger." 
 
 " What ! scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Excuse me. Before insulting me, permit me to ex- 
 plain 
 
 " No explanation five hundred louis ! " 
 " Have the kindness to allow me to finish. Yes, I 
 know that you are in urgent need of money not by- 
 and-by, but now. To-day I was unable to procure it, 
 nor can I promise it to-morrow; but on the day after 
 to-morrow, Saturday, I shall certainly have it ready for 
 you." 
 
 The marquis seemed to be trying to read his agent's 
 very soul. " Are you in earnest ? " he asked. " Show 
 
74 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 your hand. If you don't intend to help me out of my 
 embarrassment, say so." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur le Marquis, am I not as much inter- 
 ested in your success as you yourself can be? Have 
 you not received abundant proofs of my devotion ? " 
 
 " Then I can rely upon you." 
 
 " Absolutely." And seeing a lingering doubt in his 
 client's eyes, M. Fortunat added, " You have my word 
 of honor ! " 
 
 The clock struck three. The marquis took his hat 
 and started toward the door. But M. Fortunat, in 
 whose heart the word scoundrel was still rankling, 
 stopped him. " Are you going to that lady's house 
 now? What is she called? I've forgotten her name. 
 Ah, yes, I remember now. Madame d'Argeles, isn't 
 she called ? It's at her place, I believe, that the reputa- 
 tion of Mademoiselle Marguerite's favored lover is to 
 be ruined." 
 
 The marquis turned angrily. "What do you take 
 me for, Master Twenty-per-cent ? " he rudely asked. 
 "That is one of those things no well-bred gentleman 
 will do himself. But in Paris people can be found to 
 do any kind of dirty work, if you are willing to pay 
 them for it." 
 
 " Then how will you know the result ? " 
 
 "Why, twenty minutes after the affair is over, M. 
 de Coralth will be at my house. He is there even now, 
 perhaps." And as this subject was anything but pleas- 
 ant, he hastened away, exclaiming, " Get to bed, my 
 dear extortioner. Au revoir. And, above all, remem- 
 ber your promise." 
 
 " My respects, Monsieur le Marquis." 
 
 But when the door closed, M. Fortunat's expression 
 immediately changed. " Ah ! you insult me ! " he mut- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 75 
 
 tered sullenly. " You rob me, and you call me a scoun- 
 drel into the bargain. You shall pay dearly for it, my 
 fine fellow, no matter what may happen ! " 
 
 IV. 
 
 IT is in vain that the law has endeavored to shield 
 private life from prying eyes. The scribes who pander 
 to Parisian curiosity surmount all obstacles and brave 
 every danger. Thanks to the " High Life " reporters, 
 every newspaper reader is aware that twice a week 
 Mondays and Thursdays Madame Lia d'Argeles 
 holds a reception at her charming mansion in the Rue 
 de Berry. Her guests find plenty of amusement there. 
 They seldom dance; but card-playing begins at mid- 
 night, and a dainty supper is served before the de- 
 parture of the guests. 
 
 It was on leaving one of these little entertainments 
 that that unfortunate young man, Jules Chazel, a cash- 
 ier in a large banking-house, committed suicide by blow- 
 ing out his brains. The brilliant frequenters of Madame 
 d'Argeles's entertainments considered this act proof 
 of exceeding bad taste and deplorable weakness on his 
 part. "The fellow was a coward," they declared. 
 " Why, he had lost hardly a thousand louis ! " 
 
 He had lost only that, it is true a mere trifle as 
 times go. Only the money was not his ; he had taken 
 it from the safe which was confided to his keeping, 
 expecting, probably, to double the amount in a single 
 night. In the morning, when he found himself alone, 
 without a penny, and the deficit staring him in the face, 
 the voice of conscience cried, " You are a thief ! " and 
 he lost his reason. 
 
 The event created a great sensation at the time, and 
 
76 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the Petit Journal published a curious story concerning 
 this unfortunate young man's mother. The poor woman 
 she was a widow sold all she possessed, even the 
 bed on which she slept, and when she had succeeded in 
 gathering together twenty thousand francs the ransom 
 of her son's honor she carried them to the banker by 
 whom her boy had been employed. He took them, 
 without even asking the mother if she had enough left 
 to purchase her dinner that evening; and the fine gen- 
 tleman, who had won and pocketed Jules Chazel's stolen 
 gold, thought the banker's conduct perfectly natural 
 and just. It is true that Madame d'Argeles was in de- 
 spair during forty-eight hours or so; for the police 
 had begun a sort of investigation, and she feared this 
 might frighten her visitors and empty her drawing- 
 rooms. Not at all, however; on the contrary, she had 
 good cause to congratulate herself upon the notoriety 
 she gained through this suicide. For five days she was 
 the talk of Paris, and Alfred d'Aunay even published 
 her portrait in the Illustrated Chronicle. 
 
 Still, no one was able to say exactly who Madame 
 Lia d'Argeles was. Who was she, and whence did she 
 come? How had she lived until she sprang up, full 
 grown, in the sunshine of the fashionable world? Did 
 the splendid mansion in the Rue de Berry really be- 
 long to her? Was she as rich as she was supposed to 
 be? Where had she acquired such manners, the man- 
 ners of a thorough woman of the world, with her many 
 accomplishments, as well as her remarkable skill as a 
 musician? Everything connected with her was a sub- 
 ject of conjecture, even to the name inscribed upon her 
 visiting cards " Lia d'Argeles." 
 
 But no matter. Her house was always filled to over- 
 flowing; and at the very moment when the Marquis de 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 77 
 
 Valorsay and M. Fortunat were speaking of her, a 
 dozen coroneted carriages stood before her door, and 
 her rooms were thronged with guests. It was a little 
 past midnight, and the bi-weekly card party had just 
 been made up, when a footman announced, " Monsieur 
 le Vicomte de Coralth! Monsieur Pascal Ferail- 
 leur!" 
 
 Few of the players deigned to raise their heads. But 
 one man growled, " Good two more players ! " And 
 four or five young men exclaimed, " Ah ! here's Ferdi- 
 nand ! Good evening, my dear fellow ! " 
 
 M. de Coralth was very young and remarkably good- 
 looking, almost too good-looking, indeed ; for his hand- 
 someness was somewhat startling and unnatural. He. 
 had an exceedingly fair complexion, and large, melting 
 black eyes, while a woman might have envied him his 
 wavy brown hair and the exquisite delicacy of his skin. 
 He dressed with great care and taste, and even coquet- 
 tishly; his turn-down collar left his firm white throat 
 uncovered, and his rose-tinted gloves fitted as perfectly 
 as the skin upon his soft, delicate hands. He bowed 
 familiarly on entering, and with a rather complacent 
 smile on his lips, he approached Madame d'Argeles, 
 who, half reclining in an easy chair near the fire-place, 
 was conversing with two elderly gentlemen of grave 
 and distinguished bearing. " How late you are, vis- 
 count," she remarked carelessly. " What have you 
 been doing to-day? I fancied I saw you in the Bois, 
 in the Marquis de Valorsay's dog-cart/' 
 
 A slight flush suffused M. de Coralth's cheeks, and 
 to hide it, perhaps, he turned toward the visitor who 
 had entered with him, and drew him toward Madame 
 d'Argeles, saying, " Allow me, madame, to present to 
 you one of my great friends, M. Pascal Ferailleur, aa 
 
78 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 advocate whose name will be known to fame some 
 day/' 
 
 " Your friends are always welcome at my house, my 
 dear viscount/ 5 replied Madame d'Argeles. And be- 
 fore Pascal had concluded his bow, she averted her 
 head, and resumed her interrupted conversation. 
 
 The new-comer, however, was worthy of more than 
 that cursory notice. He was a young man of five or 
 six-and-twenty, dark-complexioned and tall ; each move- 
 ment of his person was imbued with that natural grace 
 which is the result of perfect harmony of the muscles, 
 and of more than common vigor. His features were 
 irregular, but they gave evidence of energy, kindness 
 of heart, and honesty of purpose. A man possessing 
 such a proud, intelligent, and open brow, such a clear, 
 straightforward gaze, and such finely-cut lips, could be 
 no ordinary one. Deserted by his sponsor, who was 
 shaking hands right and left, he seated himself on a 
 sofa a little in the background; not because he was 
 embarrassed, but because he felt that instinctive dis- 
 trust of self which frequently seizes hold of a person 
 on entering a crowd of strangers. He did his best to 
 conceal his curiosity, but nevertheless he looked and 
 listened with all his might. 
 
 The salon was an immense apartment, divided into 
 two rooms by sliding doors and hangings. When 
 Madame d'Argeles gave a ball, the rooms were thrown 
 into one ; but, as a general rule, one room was occupied 
 by the card-players, and the other served as a refuge 
 for those who wished to chat. The card-room, into 
 which Pascal had been ushered, was an apartment of 
 noble proportions, furnished in a style of tasteful mag- 
 nificence. The tints of the carpet were subdued; there 
 was not too much gilding on the cornices; the clock 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 79 
 
 upon the mantel-shelf was chaste and elegant in de- 
 sign. The only thing at all peculiar about the room 
 and its appointments was a reflector, ingeniously ar- 
 ranged above the chandelier in such a way as to throw 
 the full glare of the candles upon the card-table which 
 stood directly beneath it. The table itself was adorned 
 with a rich tapestry cover, but this was visible only 
 at the corners, for it was covered, in turn, with a green 
 baize cloth considerably the worse for wear. Madame 
 d'Argeles's guests were probably not over fifty in num- 
 ber, but they all seemed to belong to the very best 
 society. The majority of them were men of forty 
 or thereabouts ; several wore decorations, and two or 
 three of the eldest were treated with marked deference. 
 Certain well-known names which Pascal overheard sur- 
 prised him greatly. " What ! these men here ? " he said 
 to himself ; " and I I regarded my visit as a sort of 
 clandestine frolic." 
 
 There were only seven or eight ladies present, none 
 of them being especially attractive. Their toilettes 
 were very costly, but in rather doubtful taste, and they 
 wore a profusion of diamonds. Pascal noticed that 
 these ladies were treated with perfect indifference, and 
 that, whenever the gentlemen spoke to them, they as- 
 sumed an air of politeness which was too exaggerated 
 not to be ironical. 
 
 A score of persons were seated at the card-table, and 
 the guests who had retired into the adjoining salon 
 were silently watching the progress of the game, or 
 quietly chatting in the corners of the room. It sur- 
 prised him to note that every one spoke in very low 
 tones ; there was something very like respect, even awe, 
 in this subdued murmur. One might have supposed 
 that those present were celebrating the rites of some 
 
80 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 mysterious worship. And is not gaming a species of 
 idolatry, symbolized by cards, and which has its 
 images, its fetishes, its miracles, its fanatics, and its 
 martyrs ? 
 
 Occasionally, above the accompaniment of whispers, 
 rose the strange and incoherent exclamations of the 
 players : " Here are twenty louis ! I take it I pass ! 
 The play is made ! Banco I " 
 
 " What a strange gathering ! " thought Pascal Ferail- 
 leur. " What singular people ! " And he turned his 
 attention to the mistress of the house, as if he hoped to 
 decipher the solution of the enigma on her face. 
 
 But Madame Lia d'Argeles defied all analysis. She 
 was one of those women whose uncertain age varies 
 according to their mood, between the thirties and the 
 fifties ; one who did not look over thirty in the evening, 
 but who would have been charged with being more 
 than fifty the next morning. In her youth she must 
 -have been very beautiful, and she was still good-look- 
 ing, though she had grown somewhat stout, and her 
 face had become a trifle heavy, thus marring the sym- 
 metry of her very delicate features. A perfect blonde, 
 she had eyes of so clear a blue that they seemed almost 
 faded. The whiteness of her skin was so unnatural 
 that it almost startled one. It was the dull, lifeless 
 white which suggests an excessive use of cosmetics and 
 rice powder, and long baths, late hours, and sleep at 
 day-time, in a darkened room. Her face was utterly 
 devoid of expression. One might have fancied that its 
 muscles had become relaxed after terrible efforts to 
 feign or to conceal some violent emotions; and there 
 was something melancholy, almost terrifying in the 
 eternal, and perhaps involuntary smile, which curved 
 her lips. She wore a dress of black velvet, with 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 81 
 
 slashed sleeves and bodice, a new design of the famous 
 man-milliner, Van Klopen. 
 
 Pascal was engaged in these observations when M. de 
 Coralth, having made his round, came and sat down 
 on the sofa beside him. " Well, what do you think of 
 it? " he inquired. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " replied the young advocate, " I 
 am infinitely obliged to you for inviting me to accom- 
 pany you here. I am intensely amused." 
 
 " Good ! My philosopher is captivated." 
 
 " Not captivated, but interested, I confess." Then, 
 in the tone of good-humor which was habitual to him, 
 he added : " As for being the sage you call me, that's 
 all nonsense. And to prove it, I'm going to risk my 
 louis with the rest." 
 
 M. de Coralth seemed amazed, but a close observer 
 might have detected a gleam of triumph in his eyes. 
 " You are going to play you ? " 
 
 "Yes. Why not?" 
 
 " Take care ! " 
 
 " Of what, pray ? The worst I can do is to lose what 
 I have in my pocket something over two hundred 
 francs." 
 
 The viscount shook his head thoughtfully. " It isn't 
 that which one has cause to fear. The devil always has 
 a hand in this business, and the first time a man plays 
 he's sure to win." 
 
 "And is that a misfortune?" 
 
 " Yes, because the recollection of these first winnings 
 is sure to lure you back to the gaming-table again. 
 You go back, you lose, you try to recover your money, 
 and that's the end of it you become a gambler." 
 
 Pascal Ferailleur's smile was the smile of a man 
 who has full confidence in himself. " My brain is not 
 
82 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 so easily turned, I hope/' said he. " I have the thought 
 of my name, and the fortune I must make, as ballast 
 for it" 
 
 " I beseech you not to play/' insisted the viscount. 
 " Listen to me ; you don't know what this passion for 
 play is; the strongest and the coldest natures succumb 
 don't play." 
 
 He had raised his voice, as if he intended to be over- 
 heard by two guests who had just approached the sofa. 
 They did indeed hear him. " Can I believe my own 
 eyes and ears ! " exclaimed one of them, an elderly 
 man. " Can this really be Ferdinand who is trying to 
 shake the allegiance of the votaries of our noble lady 
 the Queen of Spades?" 
 
 M. de Coralth turned quickly round: "Yes, it is 
 indeed I/' he answered. " I have purchased with my 
 patrimony the right of saying : ' Distrust yourself, and 
 don't do as I've done/ to an inexperienced friend-" 
 
 The wisest counsels, given in a certain fashion, never 
 fail to produce an effect diametrically opposed to that 
 which they seemingly aim at. M. de Coralth's per- 
 sistence, and the importance he attached to a mere 
 trifle, could not fail to annoy the most patient man in 
 the world, and in fact his patronizing tone really irri- 
 tated Pascal. " You are free, my friend, to do as you 
 please," said he; "but I 
 
 " Are you resolved ? " interrupted the viscount. 
 
 " Absolutely." 
 
 " So be it, then. You are no longer a child, and I 
 have warned you. Let us play, then." Thereupon they 
 approached the table; room was made for them, and 
 they seated themselves, Pascal being on M. Ferdinand 
 de Coralth's right-hand side. 
 
 The guests were playing " Baccarat tournant," a 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 83 
 
 game of terrible and infantile simplicity. There are no 
 such things as skill or combination possible in it; 
 science and calculation are useless. Chance alone de- 
 cides, and decides with the rapidity of lightning. Ama- 
 teurs certainly assert that, with great coolness and long 
 practice, one can, in a measure at least, avert prolonged 
 ill-luck. Maybe they are right, but it is not con- 
 clusively proved. Each person takes the cards in his 
 turn, risks what he chooses, and when his stakes are 
 covered, deals. If he wins, he is free to follow up his 
 vein of good-luck, or to pass the deal. When he loses, 
 the deal passes at once to the next player on the right. 
 
 A moment sufficed for Pascal Ferailleur to learn the 
 rules of the game. It was already Ferdinand's deal. 
 M. de Coralth staked a hundred francs; the bet was 
 taken; he dealt, lost, and handed the cards to Pascal. 
 
 The play, which had been rather timid at first since 
 it was necessary, as they say, to try the luck had 
 now become bolder. Several players had large piles 
 of gold before them, and the heavy artillery that is 
 to say, bank-notes were beginning to put in appear- 
 ance. But Pascal had no false pride. " I stake a 
 louis ! " said he. 
 
 The smallness of the sum attracted instant attention, 
 and two or three voices replied : " Taken ! " 
 
 He dealt, and won. " Two louis ! " he said again. 
 This wager was also taken ; he won, and his run of luck 
 was so remarkable that, in a wonderfully short space 
 of time, he won six hundred francs. 
 
 " Pass the deal," whispered Ferdinand, and Pascal 
 followed this advice. " Not because I desire to keep 
 my winnings," he whispered in M. de Coralth's ear, 
 "but because I wish to have enough to play until the 
 end of the evening without risking anything." 
 
84 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 But such prudence was unnecessary so far as he was 
 concerned. When the deal came to him again, fortune 
 favored him even more than before. He started with 
 a hundred francs, and doubling them each time in six 
 successive deals, he won more than three thousand 
 francs. 
 
 " The devil ! Monsieur is in luck."" Zounds ! And 
 he is playing for the first time." "That accounts for 
 it. The inexperienced always win." 
 
 Pascal could not fail to hear these comments. The 
 blood mantled over his cheeks, and, conscious that he 
 was flushing, he, as usually happens, flushed still more. 
 His good fortune embarrassed him, as was evident, and 
 he played most recklessly. Still his good luck did not 
 desert him; and do what he would he won won con- 
 tinually. In fact, by four o'clock in the morning he 
 had thirty-five thousand francs before him. 
 
 For some time he had been the object of close atten- 
 tion. " Do you know this gentleman ? " inquired one 
 of the guests. 
 
 "No. He came with Coralth." 
 
 " He is an advocate, I understand." 
 
 And all these whispered doubts and suspicions, these 
 questions fraught with an evil significance, these un- 
 charitable replies, grew into a malevolent murmur, 
 which resounded in Pascal's ears and bewildered him. 
 He was really becoming most uncomfortable, when 
 Madame d'Argeles approached the card-table and ex- 
 claimed : " This is the third time, gentlemen, that you 
 hare been told that supper is ready. What gentleman 
 will offer me his arm ? " 
 
 There was an evident unwillingness to leave the 
 table, but an old gentleman who had been losing 
 heavily rose to his feet. "Yes, let us go to sup- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 85 
 
 per!" he exclaimed; " perhaps that will change the 
 luck." 
 
 This was a decisive consideration. The room emptied 
 as if by magic; and no one was left at the table but 
 Pascal, who scarcely knew what to do with all the gold 
 piled up before him. He succeeded, however, in distrib- 
 uting it in his pockets, and was about to join the other 
 guests in the dining-room, when Madame d'Argeles 
 abruptly barred his passage. 
 
 " I desire a word with you, monsieur," she said. Her 
 face still retained its strange immobility, and the same 
 stereotyped smile played about her lips. And yet her 
 agitation was so evident that Pascal, in spite of his own 
 uneasiness, noticed it, and was astonished by it. 
 
 " I am at your service, madame," he stammered, 
 bowing. 
 
 She at once took his arm, and led him to the em- 
 brasure of a window. " I am a stranger to you, mon- 
 sieur," she said, very hurriedly, and in very low tones, 
 " and yet I must ask, and you must grant me, a great 
 favor." 
 
 " Speak, madame." 
 
 She hesitated, as if at a loss for words, and then all 
 of a sudden she said, eagerly: "You will leave this 
 house at once, without warning any one, and while the 
 other guests are at supper." 
 
 Pascal's astonishment changed into stupor. 
 
 "Why am I to go?" he asked. 
 
 " Because but, no ; I cannot tell you. Consider it 
 only a caprice on my part it is so; but I entreat you, 
 don't refuse me. Do me this favor, and I shall be 
 eternally grateful." 
 
 There was such an agony of supplication in her voice 
 and her attitude, that Pascal was touched. A vague 
 
86 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 presentiment of some terrible, irreparable misfortune 
 disturbed his own heart. Nevertheless, he sadly shook 
 his head, and bitterly exclaimed : " You are, perhaps, 
 not aware that I have just won over thirty thousand 
 francs." 
 
 "Yes, I am aware of it. And this is only another, 
 and still stronger reason why you should protect your- 
 self against possible loss. It is well to pattern after 
 Charlemagne* in this house. The other night, the 
 Count d'Antas quietly made his escape bareheaded. He 
 took a thousand louis away with him, and left his hat 
 in exchange. The count is a brave man ; and far from 
 indulging in blame, every one applauded him the next 
 day. Come, you have decided, I see you will go ; and 
 to be still more safe, I will show you out through the 
 servants' hall, then no one can possibly see you." 
 
 Pascal had almost decided to yield to her entreaties; 
 but this proposed retreat through the back-door was too 
 revolting to his pride to be thought of for a moment. 
 " I will never consent to such a thing," he declared. 
 " What would they think of me ? Besides I owe them 
 their reverfge and I shall give it to them." 
 
 Neither Madame d'Argeles nor Pascal had noticed 
 M. de Coralth, who in the meantime had stolen into 
 the room on tiptoe, and had been listening to their 
 conversation, concealed behind the folds of a heavy 
 curtain. He now suddenly revealed his presence. " Ah ! 
 my dear friend," he exclaimed, in a winning tone. 
 " While I honor your scruples, I must say that I think 
 madame is a hundred times right. If I were in your 
 
 *French gamblers use this expression which they explain 
 by the fact that Charlemagne departed this life with all his 
 possessions intact, having always added to his dominions 
 without ever experiencing a loss. Historically this is no doubt 
 incorrect, but none the less, the expression prevails in 
 France. [TRANS.] 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 87 
 
 place, if I had won what you have won, I shouldn't 
 hesitate. Others might think what they pleased; you 
 have the money, that is the main thing." 
 
 For the second time, the viscount's intervention de- 
 cided Pascal. " I shall remain," he said, resolutely. 
 
 But Madame d'Argeles laid her hand imploringly on 
 his arm. " I entreat you, monsieur," said she. " Go 
 now, there is still time " 
 
 " Yes, go," said the viscount, approvingly, " it would 
 be a most excellent move. Retreat and save the 
 cash." 
 
 These words were like the drop which makes the cup 
 overflow. Crimson with anger and assailed by the 
 strangest suspicions, Pascal turned from Madame 
 d'Argeles and hastened into the dining-room. The 
 conversation ceased entirely on his arrival there. He 
 could not fail to understand that he had been the sub- 
 ject of it. A secret instinct warned him that all the 
 men around him were his enemies though he knew 
 not why and that they were plotting against him. 
 He also perceived that his slightest movements were 
 watched and commented upon. However he was a 
 brave man; his conscience did not reproach him in the 
 least, and he was one of those persons who, rather than 
 wait for danger, provoke it. 
 
 So, with an almost defiant air, he seated himself 
 beside a young lady dressed in pink tulle, and began 
 to laugh and chat with her. He possessed a ready wit, 
 and what is even better, tact; and for a quarter of an 
 hour astonished those around him by his brilliant 
 sallies. Champagne was flowing freely; and he drank 
 four or five glasses in quick succession. Was he really 
 conscious of what he was doing and saying? He sub- 
 sequently declared that he was not, that he acted under 
 
88 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the influence of a sort of hallucination similar to that 
 produced by the inhalation of carbonic gas. 
 
 However, the guests did not linger long at the sup- 
 per-table. " Let us go back ! " cried the old gentleman, 
 who had insisted upon the suspension of the game; 
 " we are wasting a deal of precious time here ! " 
 
 Pascal rose with the others, and in his haste to enter 
 the adjoining room he jostled two men who were talk- 
 ing together near the door. " So it is understood," 
 said one of them. 
 
 " Yes, yes, leave it to me ; I will act as executioner." 
 
 This word sent all Pascal's blood bounding to his 
 heart. "Who is to be executed?" he thought. "I 
 am evidently to be the victim. But what does it all 
 mean ? " 
 
 Meanwhile the players at the green table had changed 
 places, and Pascal found himself seated not on Ferdi- 
 nand's right, but directly opposite him, and between 
 two men about his own age one of them being the 
 person who had announced his intention of acting as 
 executioner. All eyes were fixed upon the unfortunate 
 advocate when it came his turn to deal. He staked two 
 hundred louis, and lost them. There was a slight com- 
 motion round the table ; and one of the players who had 
 lost most heavily, remarked in an undertone : " Don't 
 look so hard at the gentleman he won't have any more 
 luck." 
 
 As Pascal heard this ironical remark, uttered in a 
 tone which made it as insulting as a blow, a gleam of 
 light darted through his puzzled brain. He suspected 
 at last, what any person less honest than himself would 
 have long before understood. He thought of rising 
 and demanding an apology: but he was stunned, al- 
 most overcome by the horrors of his situation. His 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 89 
 
 ears tingled, and it seemed to him as if the beating of 
 his heart were suspended. 
 
 However the game proceeded; but no one paid any 
 attention to it. The stakes were insignificant, and loss 
 or gain drew no exclamation from any one. The at- 
 tention of the entire party was concentrated on Pascal ; 
 and he, with despair in his heart, followed the move- 
 ments of the cards, which were passing from hand to 
 hand., and fast approaching him again. When they 
 reached him the silence became breathless, menacing, 
 even sinister. The ladies, and the guests who were not 
 playing, approached and leaned over the table in evi- 
 dent anxiety. " My God ! " thought Pascal, " my God, 
 if I can only lose ! " 
 
 He was as pale as death; the perspiration trickled 
 down from his hair upon his temples, and his hands 
 trembled so much that he could scarcely hold the cards. 
 " I will stake four thousand francs," he faltered. 
 
 " I take your bet," answered a voice. 
 
 Alas ! the unfortunate fellow's wish was not grati- 
 fied; he won. Then in the midst of the wildest 
 confusion, he exclaimed : " Here are eight thousand 
 francs ! " 
 
 " Taken ! " 
 
 But as he began to deal the cards, his neighbor 
 sprang up, seized him roughly by the hands and cried : 
 " This time I'm sure of it you are a thief ! " 
 
 With a bound, Pascal was on his feet. While his 
 peril had been vague and undetermined, his energy had 
 been paralyzed. But it was restored to him intact when 
 his danger declared itself in all its horror. He pushed 
 away the man who had caught his hands, with such 
 violence that he sent him reeling under a sofa; then 
 he stepped back and surveyed the excited throng with 
 
90 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 an air of menace and defiance. Useless! Seven or 
 eight players sprang upon him and overpowered him, 
 as if he had been the vilest criminal. 
 
 Meanwhile, the executioner, as he had styled himself, 
 had risen to his feet with his cravat untied, and his 
 clothes in wild disorder. "Yes," he said, addressing 
 Pascal, "you are a thief! I saw you slip other cards 
 among those which were handed to you." 
 
 " Wretch ! gasped Pascal. 
 
 " I saw you and I am going to prove it." So say- 
 ing he turned to the mistress of the house, who had 
 dropped into an arm-chair, and imperiously asked, 
 " How many packs have we used ? " 
 
 "Five." 
 
 " Then there ought to be two hundred and sixty 
 cards upon the table." 
 
 Thereupon he counted them slowly and with particu- 
 lar care, and he found no fewer than three hundred 
 and seven. " Well, scoundrel ! " he cried ; " are you 
 still bold enough to deny it ? " 
 
 Pascal had no desire to deny it. He knew that words 
 would weigh as nothing against this material, tangible, 
 incontrovertible proof. Forty-seven cards had been 
 fraudulently inserted among the others. Certainly not 
 by him ! But by whom ? Still he, alone, had been the 
 gainer through the deception. 
 
 " You see that the coward will not even defend him- 
 self ! " exclaimed one of the women. * 
 
 He did not deign to turn his head. What did the 
 insult matter to him? He knew himself to be inno- 
 cent, and yet he felt that he was sinking to the 
 lowest depths of infamy he beheld himself disgraced, 
 branded, ruined. And realizing that he must meet 
 facts with facts, he besought God to grant him an 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 91 
 
 idea, an inspiration, that would unmask the real 
 culprit. 
 
 But another person came to his aid. With a bold- 
 ness which no one would have expected on his part, M. 
 de Coralth placed himself in front of Pascal, and in a 
 voice which betokened more indignation than sorrow, 
 he exclaimed : " This is a terrible mistake, gentlemen. 
 Pascal Ferailleur is my friend ; and his past vouches for 
 his present. Go to the Palais de Justice, and make 
 inquiries respecting his character there. They will 
 tell you how utterly impossible it is that this man can 
 be guilty of the ignoble act he is accused of." 
 
 No one made any reply. In the opinion of all his 
 listeners, Ferdinand was simply fulfilling a duty which 
 it would have been difficult for him to escape. The old 
 gentleman who had decided the suspension and the 
 resumption of the game, gave audible expression to the 
 prevailing sentiment of the party. He was a portly 
 man, who puffed like a porpoise when he talked, and 
 whom his companions called the baron. " Your words 
 do you honor really do you honor," he said, addressing 
 Ferdinand " and no possible blame can attach to you. 
 That your friend is not an honest man is no fault of 
 yours. There is no outward sign to distinguish scoun- 
 drels." 
 
 Pascal had so far not opened his lips. After strug- 
 gling for a moment in the hands of his captors, he now 
 stood perfectly motionless, glancing furiously around 
 him as if hoping to discover the coward who had pre- 
 pared the trap into which he had fallen. For he felt 
 certain that he was the victim of some atrocious con- 
 spiracy, though it was impossible for him to divine 
 what motive had actuated his enemies. Suddenly those 
 who were holding him felt him tremble. He raised his 
 
92 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 head ; he fancied he could detect a ray of hope. " Shall 
 I be allowed to speak in my own defence ? " he asked. 
 
 " Speak ! 
 
 He tried to free himself ; but those beside him would 
 not relax their hold, so he desisted, and then, in a voice 
 husky with emotion, he exclaimed : " I am innocent ! 
 I am the victim of an infamous plot. Who the author 
 of it is I do not know. But there is some one here 
 who must know." Angry exclamations and sneering 
 laughs interrupted him. " Would you condemn me un- 
 heard ? " he resumed, raising his voice. " Listen to me. 
 About an hour ago, while you were at supper, Madame 
 d'Argeles almost threw herself at my feet as she en- 
 treated me to leave this house. Her agitation aston- 
 ished me. Now I understand it." 
 
 The gentleman known as the baron turned toward 
 Madame d'Argeles : " Is what this man says true ? " 
 
 She was greatly agitated, but she answered : " Yes." 
 
 " Why were you so anxious for him to go ? " 
 
 " I don't know a presentiment it seemed to me 
 that something was going to happen." 
 
 The least observant of the party could not fail to 
 notice Madame d'Argeles's hesitation and confusion; 
 but even the shrewdest were deceived. They supposed 
 that she had seen the act committed, and had tried to 
 induce the culprit to make his escape, in order to avoid 
 a scandal. 
 
 Pascal saw he could expect no assistance from this 
 source. " M. de Coralth could assure you," he began. 
 
 " Oh, enough of that," interrupted a player. " I 
 myself heard M. de Coralth do his best to persuade you 
 not to play." 
 
 So the unfortunate fellow's last and only hope had 
 vanished. Still he made a supreme effort, and address- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 93 
 
 ing Madame d'Argeles : " Madame/' he said, in a voice 
 trembling with anguish, " I entreat you, tell what you 
 know. Will you allow an honorable man to be ruined 
 before your very eyes ? Will you abandon an innocent 
 man whom you could save by a single word?" But 
 she remained silent; and Pascal staggered as if some 
 one had dealt him a terrible blow. " It is all over ! " 
 he muttered. 
 
 No one heard him; everybody was listening to the 
 baron, who seemed to be very much put out. " We are 
 wasting precious time with all this," said he. " We 
 should have made at least five rounds while this absurd 
 scene has been going on. We must put an end to it. 
 What are you going to do with this fellow? I am in 
 favor of sending for a commissary of police." 
 
 Such was not at all the opinion of the majority of 
 the guests. Four or five of the ladies took flight at 
 the bare suggestion and several men the most aristo- 
 cratic of the company became angry at once. "Are 
 you mad ? " said one of them. " Do you want to see 
 us all summoned as witnesses? You have probably 
 forgotten that Garcia affair, and that rumpus at Jenny 
 Fancy's house. A fine thing it would be to see, no one 
 knows how many great names mixed up with those of 
 sharpers and notorious women ! " 
 
 Naturally of a florid complexion, the baron's face 
 now became scarlet. " So it's fear of scandal that 
 deters you ! Zounds, sir ! a man's courage should equal 
 his vices. Look at me." 
 
 Celebrated for his income of eight hundred thou- 
 sand francs a year, for his estates in Burgundy, for his 
 passion for gaming, his horses, and his cook, the baron 
 wielded a mighty influence. Still, on this occasion he 
 did not carry the day, for it was decided that the 
 
94 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 (t sharper " should be allowed to depart unmolested. 
 " Make him at least return the money," growled a 
 loser ; " compel him to disgorge/ 7 
 
 " His winnings are there upon the table." 
 
 "Don't believe it," cried the baron. "All these 
 scoundrels have secret pockets in which they stow away 
 their plunder. Search him by all means." 
 
 " That's it search him ! " 
 
 Crushed by this unexpected, undeserved and incom- 
 prehensible misfortune, Pascal had almost yielded to 
 his fate. But the shameful cry : " Search him ! " kindled 
 terrible wrath in his brain. He shook off his assail- 
 ants as a lion shakes off the hounds that have attacked 
 him, and, reaching the fireplace with a single bound, 
 he snatched up a heavy bronze candelabrum and bran- 
 dished it in the air, crying : " The first who approaches 
 is a dead man ! " 
 
 He was ready to strike, there was no doubt about it ; 
 and such a weapon in the hands of a determined man, 
 becomes positively terrible. The danger seemed so 
 great and so certain that his enemies paused each 
 encouraging his neighbor with his glance; but no one 
 was inclined to engage in this struggle, by which the 
 victor would merely gain a few bank-notes. " Stand 
 back, and allow me to retire ? " said Pascal, imperiously. 
 They still hesitated; but finally made way. And, for- 
 midable in his indignation and audacity, he reached the 
 door of the room unmolested, and disappeared. 
 
 This superb outburst of outraged honor, this mar- 
 vellous energy succeeding, as it did, the most complete 
 mental prostration and these terrible threats, had 
 proved so prompt and awe-inspiring that no one had 
 thought of cutting off Pascal's retreat. The guests had 
 not recovered from their stupor, but were still stand- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 95 
 
 ing silent and intimidated when they heard the outer 
 doer close after him. 
 
 It was a woman who at last broke the spell. " Ah, 
 well ! " she exclaimed, in a tone of intense admiration, 
 " that handsome fellow is level-headed ! " 
 
 " He naturally desired to save his plunder ! " 
 
 It was the same expression that M. de Coralth had 
 employed; and which had, perhaps, prevented Pascal 
 from yielding to Madame d'Argeles's entreaties. Every- 
 body applauded the sentiment everybody, the baron 
 excepted. This rich man, whose passions had dragged 
 him into the vilest dens of Europe, was thoroughly 
 acquainted with sharpers and scoundrels of every type, 
 from those who ride in their carriages down to the bare- 
 footed vagabond. He knew the thief who grovels at 
 his victim's feet, humbly confessing his crime, the des- 
 perate knave who swallows the notes he has stolen, the 
 abject wretch who bares his back to receive the blows 
 he deserves, and the rascal who boldly confronts his 
 accusers and protests his innocence with the indig- 
 nation of an honest man. But never, in any of 
 these scoundrels, had the baron seen the proud, stead- 
 fast glance with which this man had awed his ac- 
 cusers. 
 
 With this thought uppermost in his mind he drew 
 the person who had seized Pascal's hands at the card- 
 table a little aside. "Tell me," said he, "did you 
 actually see that young man slip the cards into the 
 pack?" 
 
 " No, not exactly. But you know what we agreed 
 at supper ? We were sure that he was cheating ; and it 
 was necessary to find some pretext for counting the 
 cards." 
 
 "What if he shouldn't be guilty, after all?" 
 
96 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 "Who else could be guilty then? He was the only 
 winner/' 
 
 To this terrible argument the same which had 
 silenced Pascal the baron made no reply. Indeed his 
 intervention became necessary elsewhere, for the other 
 guests were beginning to talk loudly and excitedly 
 around the pile of gold and bank-notes which Pascal 
 had left on the table. They had counted it, and found 
 it to amount to the sum of thirty-six thousand three 
 hundred and twenty francs ; and it was the question of 
 dividing it properly among the losers which was caus- 
 ing all this uproar. Among these guests, who belonged 
 to the highest society among these judges who had 
 so summarily convicted an innocent man, and suggested 
 the searching of a supposed sharper only a moment 
 before there were several who unblushingly misrepre- 
 sented their losses. This was undeniable; for on add- 
 ing the various amounts -that were claimed together a 
 grand total of ninety-one thousand francs was reached. 
 Had this man who had just fled taken the difference 
 between the two sums away with him? A difference 
 amounting almost to fifty-five thousand francs? No, 
 this was impossible ; the supposition could not be enter- 
 tained for a moment. However, the discussion might 
 have taken an unfortunate turn, had it not been for the 
 baron. In all matters relating to cards, his word was 
 law. He quietly said, " It is all right ; " and they sub- 
 mitted. 
 
 Nevertheless, he absolutely refused to take his share 
 of the money ; and after the division, rubbing his hands 
 as if he were delighted to see this disagreeable affair 
 concluded, he exclaimed : " It is only six o'clock ; we 
 have still time for a few rounds." 
 
 But the other guests, pale, disturbed, and secretly 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 97 
 
 ashamed of themselves, were eager to depart, and in 
 fact they were already hastening to the cloak-room. 
 "At least play a game of ecarte," cried the baron, 
 "a simple game of ecarte, at twenty louis a point/' 
 
 But no one listened, and he reluctantly prepared to 
 follow his departing friends, who bowed to Madame 
 d'Argeles on the landing, as they filed by. M. de 
 Coralth, who was among the last to retire, had already 
 reached the staircase, and descended two or three steps, 
 when Madame d'Argeles called to him. " Remain/' 
 said she ; " I want to speak with you." 
 
 " You will excuse me," he began ; " I " 
 
 But she again bade him " remain " in such an im- 
 perious tone that he dared not resist. He reascended 
 the stairs, very much after the manner of a man who 
 is being dragged into a dentist's office, and followed 
 Madame d'Argeles into a small boudoir at the end of 
 the gambling-room. As soon as the door was closed 
 and locked, the mistress of the house turned to her 
 prisoner. " Now you will explain," said she. " It was 
 you who brought M. Pascal Ferailleur here." 
 
 " Alas ! I know only too well that I ought to beg 
 your forgiveness. However, this affair will cost me 
 dear myself. It has already embroiled me in a diffi- 
 culty with that fool of a Rochecote, with whom I shall 
 have to fight in less than a couple of hours." 
 
 " Where did you make his acquaintance ? " 
 
 " Whose Rochecote's ? " 
 
 Madame d'Argeles's sempiternal smile had altogether 
 disappeared. " I am speaking seriously," said she, with 
 a threatening ring in her voice. " How did you happen 
 to become acquainted with M. Ferailleur?" 
 
 " That can be very easily explained. Seven or eight 
 months ago I had need of an advocate's services, and 
 
98 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 he w x as recommended to me. He managed my case 
 very cleverly, and we kept up the acquaintance." 
 
 " What is his position ? " 
 
 M. de Coralth's features wore an expression of ex- 
 ceeding weariness as if he greatly longed to go to 
 sleep. He had indeed installed himself in a large arm- 
 chair, in a semi-recumbent position. " Upon my word,. 
 I don't know," he replied. " Pascal had always seemed 
 to be the most irreproachable man in the world a man 
 you might call a philosopher ! He lives in a retired 
 part of the city, near the Pantheon, with his mother, 
 who is a widow, a very respectable woman, always 
 dressed in black. When she opened the door for me, 
 on the occasion of my first visit, I thought some old 
 family portrait had stepped down from its frame to 
 receive me. I judge them to be in comfortable circum- 
 stances. Pascal has the reputation of being a remark- 
 able man, and people supposed he would rise very high 
 in his profession." 
 
 " But now he is ruined ; his career is finished." 
 
 " Certainly ! You can be quite sure that by this 
 evening all Paris will know what occurred here last 
 night." 
 
 He paused, meeting Madame Argeles's look of with- 
 ering scorn with a cleverly assumed air of astonish- 
 ment. " You are a villain ! Monsieur de Coralth," she 
 said, indignantly. 
 
 "I and why?" 
 
 " Because it was you who slipped those cards, which 
 made M. Ferailleur win, into the pack; I saw you do 
 it ! And yielding to my entreaties, the young fellow 
 was about to leave the house when you, intentionally, 
 prevented him from saving himself. Oh ! don't deny 
 it." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 99 
 
 M. de Coralth rose in the coolest possible man- 
 ner. " I deny nothing, my dear lady/' he replied, 
 " absolutely nothing. You and I understand each 
 other." 
 
 Confounded by his unblushing impudence, Madame 
 d'Argeles remained speechless for a moment. "You 
 confess it ! " she cried, at last. " You dare to confess 
 it ! Were you not afraid that I might speak and state 
 what I had seen ? " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. " No one would have 
 believed you/' he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, I should have been believed, Monsieur de 
 Coralth, for I could have given proofs. You must have 
 forgotten that I know you, that your past life is no 
 secret to me, that I know who you are, and what dis- 
 honored name you hide beneath your borrowed title ! 
 I could have told my guests that you are married that 
 you have abandoned your wife and child, leaving them 
 to perish in want and misery I could have told them 
 where you obtain the thirty or forty thousand francs 
 you spend each year. You must have forgotten that 
 Rose told me everything, Monsieur Paul ! " 
 
 She had struck the right place this time, and with 
 such precision that M. de Coralth turned livid, and 
 made a furious gesture, as if he were about to fell her 
 to the ground. " Ah, take care ! " he exclaimed ; " take 
 care ! " 
 
 But his rage speedily subsided, and with his usual 
 indifferent manner, and in a bantering tone, he said: 
 "Well, what of that? Do you fancy that the world 
 doesn't already suspect what you could reveal ? People 
 have suspected me of being even worse than I am. 
 When you proclaim on the housetops that I am an ad- 
 venturer, folks will only laugh at you, and I shall be 
 
100 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 none the worse for it. A matter that would crush a 
 dozen men like Pascal Ferailleur would not injure me 
 in the least. I am accustomed to it. I must have 
 luxury and enjoyment, everything that is pleasant and 
 beautiful and to procure all this, I do my very best. 
 It is true that I don't derive my income from my estate 
 in Brie; but I have plenty of money, and that is the 
 essential thing. Besides, it is so difficult to earn a 
 livelihood nowadays, and the love of luxury is so 
 intense that no one knows at night what he may do 
 or, rather, what he won't do the next day. And last, 
 but not least, the people who ought to be despised are 
 so numerous that contempt is an impossibility. A 
 Parisian who happened to be so absurdly pretentious 
 as to refuse to shake hands with such of his acquaint- 
 ances as were not irreproachable characters, might walk 
 for hours on the Boulevards without finding an occa- 
 sion to take his hands out of his pockets." 
 
 M. de Coralth talked well enough, and yet, in point 
 of fact, all this was sheer bravado on his part. He 
 knew better than any one else, on what a frail and un- 
 certain basis his brilliant existence was established. 
 Certainly, society does show great indulgence to peo- 
 ple of doubtful reputation. It shuts its eyes and re- 
 fuses to look or listen. But this is all the more reason 
 why it should be pitiless when a person's guilt is posi- 
 tively established. Thus, although he assumed an air 
 of insolent security, the " viscount " anxiously watched 
 the effect of his words upon Madame d'Argeles. For- 
 tunately for himself, he saw that she was abashed by 
 his cynicism ; and so he resumed : " Besides, as our 
 friend, the baron, would say, we are wasting precious 
 time in discussing improbable, and even impossible, 
 suppositions. I was sufficiently well acquainted with 
 
THE COUNT'S MiLLION^ > 101 
 
 your heart and your intelligence, my dear madame, to 
 be sure that you would not speak a word to my dis- 
 paragement." 
 
 " Indeed ! What prevented me from doing so ? " 
 
 " / did ; or perhaps I ought rather to say,, your own 
 good sense, which closed your mouth when Monsieur 
 Pascal entreated you to speak in his defence. I am 
 entitled to considerable indulgence, madame, and a 
 great deal ought to be forgiven me. My mother, un- 
 fortunately, was an honest woman, who did not furnish 
 me with the means of gratifying every whim." 
 
 Madame d'Argeles recoiled as if a serpent had sud- 
 denly crossed her path. 
 
 "What do you mean?" she faltered. 
 
 " You know as well as I do." 
 
 " I don't understand you explain yourself." 
 
 With the impatient gesture of a man who finds him- 
 self compelled to answer an idle question, and assum- 
 ing an air of hypocritical commiseration, he replied: 
 " Well, since you insist upon it, I know, in Paris in 
 the Rue de Helder, to be more exact a nice young 
 fellow, whose lot I have often envied. He has wanted 
 for nothing since the day he came into the world. At 
 school, he had three times as much money as his richest 
 playfellow. When his studies were finished, a tutor 
 was provided with his pockets full of gold to con- 
 duct this favored youth to Italy, Egypt, and Greece. 
 He is now studying law; and four times a year, with 
 unvarying punctuality, he receives a letter from Lon- 
 don containing five thousand francs. This is all the 
 more remarkable, as this young man has neither a 
 father nor a mother. He is alone in the world with 
 his income of twenty thousand francs. I have heard 
 him say, jestingly, that some good fairy must be watch- 
 
192 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 ing over him; but I know that he believes himself to 
 be the illegitimate son of some great English noble- 
 man. Sometimes,, when he has drunk a little too much, 
 he talks of going in search of my lord, his father." 
 
 The effect M. de Coralth had created by these words 
 must have been extremely gratifying to him, for 
 Madame d'Argeles had fallen back in her chair, almost 
 fainting. " So, my dear madame," he continued, " if 
 I ever had any reason to fancy that you intended caus- 
 ing me any trouble, I should go to this charming youth 
 and say : ' My good fellow, you are strangely deceived. 
 Your money doesn't come from the treasure-box of an 
 English peer, but from 'a small gambling den with 
 which I am very well acquainted, having often had 
 occasion to swell its revenues with my franc-pieces.' 
 And if he mourned his vanished dreams, I should tell 
 him : ' You are wrong ; for,, if the great nobleman is 
 lost, the good fairy remains. She is none other than 
 your mother, a very worthy person, whose only object 
 in life is your comfort and advancement.' And if he 
 doubted my word, I should bring him to his mother's 
 house some baccarat night ; and there would be a scene 
 of recognition worthy of Fargueil's genius." 
 
 Any man but M. de Coralth would have had some 
 compassion, for Madame d'Argeles was evidently suf- 
 fering agony. " It is as I feared ! " she moaned, in a 
 scarcely audible voice. 
 
 However, he heard her. " What ! " he exclaimed in 
 a tone of intense astonishment ; " did you really doubt 
 it? No; I can't believe it; it would be doing injustice 
 to your intelligence and experience. Are people like 
 ourselves obliged to talk in order to understand each 
 other ? Should I ever have ventured to do what I have 
 done, in your house, if 1 had not known the secret of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 103 
 
 your maternal tenderness, delicacy of feeling, and de- 
 votion ? " 
 
 She was weeping; big tears were rolling down her 
 face, tracing a broad furrow through the powder on 
 her cheeks. " He knows everything ! " she murmured ; 
 " he knows everything ! " 
 
 " By the merest chance, I assure you. As I don't 
 like folks to meddle with my affairs, I never meddle 
 with theirs. As I have just said, it was entirely the 
 work of chance. One April afternoon I came to in- 
 vite you to a drive in the Bois. I was ushered into this 
 very room where we are sitting now, and found you 
 writing. I said I would wait until you finished your 
 letter; but some one called you, and you hastily left 
 the room. How it was that I happened to approach 
 your writing-table I cannot explain ; but I did approach 
 it, and read your unfinished letter. Upon my word it 
 touched me deeply. I can give no better proof of the 
 truth of my assertion than the fact that I can repeat 
 it, almost word for word, even now. ' DEAR SIR/ 
 you wrote to your London correspondent ' I send you 
 three thousand francs, in addition to the five thousand 
 for the regular quarterly payment. Forward the money 
 without delay. I fear the poor boy is greatly annoyed 
 by his creditors. Yesterday I had the happiness of see- 
 ing him in the Rue de Helder, and I found him looking 
 pale and careworn. When you send him this money, 
 forward at the same time a letter of fatherly advice. 
 It is true, he ought to work and win an honorable posi- 
 tion for himself; but think of the dangers and tempta- 
 tion that beset him, alone and friendless, in this cor- 
 rupt city/ There, my dear lady, your letter ended; 
 but the name and address were given, and it was easy 
 enough to understand it. You remember, perhaps, a 
 
104 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 little incident that occurred after your return. On 
 perceiving that you had forgotten your letter, you 
 turned pale and glanced at me. ' Have you read it, 
 and do you understand it ? ' your eyes asked ; while 
 mine replied : ' Yes, but I shall be silent/ }: 
 
 " And I shall be silent too," said Madame d'Argeles. 
 
 M. de Coralth took her hand and raised it to his 
 lips. " I knew we should understand each other/' he 
 remarked, gravely. " I am not bad at heart, believe 
 me; and if I had possessed money of my own, or a 
 mother like you " 
 
 She averted her face, fearing perhaps that M. de 
 Coralth might read her opinion of him in her eyes; 
 but after a short pause she exclaimed beseechingly: 
 " Now that I am your accomplice, let me entreat you 
 to do all you possibly can to prevent last night's affair 
 from being noised abroad." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 "If not for M. Ferailleur's sake, for the sake of his 
 poor widowed mother." 
 
 " Pascal must be put out of the way ! " 
 
 " Why do you say that ? Do you hate him so much 
 then ? What has he done to you ? " 
 
 "To me, personally? Nothing I even feel actual 
 sympathy for him." 
 
 Madame d'Argeles was confounded. " What ! " she 
 stammered ; " it wasn't on your own account that you 
 did this?" 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 She sprang to her feet, and quivering with scorn and 
 indignation, cried : " Ah ! then the deed is even more 
 infamous even more cowardly ! " But alarmed by 
 the threatening gleam in M. de Coralth's eyes, she went 
 no further. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 105 
 
 " A truce to these disagreeable truths/ 5 said he, 
 coldly. " If we expressed our opinions of each other 
 without reserve, in this world, we should soon come 
 to hard words. Do you think I acted for my own 
 pleasure? Suppose some one had seen me when I 
 slipped the cards into the pack. If that had happened,. 
 / should have been ruined/ 5 
 
 " And you think that no one suspects you ? " 
 " No one. I lost more than a hundred louis myself.. 
 If Pascal belonged to our set, people might investigate 
 the matter, perhaps; but to-morrow it will be for- 
 gotten." 
 
 " And will he have no suspicions ? " 
 " He will have no proofs to offer, in any case/ 5 
 Madame d'Argeles seemed to resign herself to the 
 inevitable. " I hope you will, at least, tell me on whose 
 behalf you acted," she remarked. 
 
 " Impossible," replied M. de Coralth. And, consult- 
 ing his watch, he added, " But I am forgetting myself ; 
 I am forgetting that that idiot of a Rochecote is waiting 
 for a sword-thrust. So go to sleep, my dear lady, and 
 till we meet again." 
 
 She accompanied him so far as the landing. " It is 
 quite certain that he is hastening to the house of M. 
 Ferailleur's enemy," she thought. And, calling her 
 confidential servant, " Quick, Job," she said ; " follow 
 M. de Coralth. I want to know where he is going.- 
 And, above all, take care that he doesn't see you." 
 
106 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 V. 
 
 IF through the length and breadth of Paris there is a 
 really quiet, peaceful street, a refuge for the thought- 
 fully inclined, it is surely the broad Rue d'Ulm, which 
 starts from the Place du Pantheon, and finishes 
 abruptly at the Rue des Feuillantines. The shops are 
 unassuming, and so few that one can easily count them. 
 There is a wine-shop on the left-hand side, at the cor- 
 ner of the Rue de la Vieille-Estrapade ; then a little 
 toy-shop, then a washerwoman's and then a book- 
 binder's establishment; while on the right-hand you 
 will find the office of the Bulletin, with a locksmith's, 
 a fruiterer's, and a baker's that is all. Along the rest 
 of the street run several spacious buildings,, somewhat 
 austere in appearance, though some of them are sur- 
 rounded by large gardens. Here stands the Convent 
 of the Sisters of the Cross, with the House of Our 
 Lady of Adoration ; while further on, near the Rue des 
 Feuillantines, you find the Normal School, with the 
 office of the General Omnibus Company hard by. At 
 day-time you mostly meet grave and thoughtful faces 
 in the street: priests, savants, professors, and clerks 
 employed in the adjacent public libraries. The only 
 stir is round about the omnibus office; and if occa- 
 sional bursts of laughter are heard they are sure to 
 come from the Normal School. After nightfall, a 
 person might suppose himself to be at least a hundred 
 leagues from the Boulevard Montmartre and the Opera- 
 House, in some quiet old provincial town, at Poitiers, 
 for instance. And it is only on listening attentively that 
 you can catch even a faint echo of the tumult of Paris. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 107 
 
 It was in this street "out of the world," as M. de 
 Coralth expressed it that Pascal Ferailleur resided 
 with his mother. They occupied a second floor, a 
 pretty suite of five rooms, looking out upon a garden. 
 Their rent was high. Indeed, they paid fourteen hun- 
 dred francs a year. But this was a burden which 
 Pascal's profession imposed upon him ; for he, of 
 course, required a private office and a little waiting- 
 room for his clients. With this exception, the mother 
 and son led a straightened, simple life. Their only ser- 
 vant was a woman who came at seven o'clock to do the 
 heavy work, went home again at twelve, and did not 
 return again until the evening, to serve dinner. 
 Madame Ferailleur attended to everything, not blushing 
 in the least when she was compelled to open the door 
 for some client. Besides, she could do this without the 
 least risk of encountering disrespect, so imposing and 
 dignified were her manners and her person. 
 
 M. de Coralth had shown excellent judgment when 
 he compared her to a family portrait. She was, in fact, 
 exactly the person a painter would select to represent 
 some old burgher's wife a chaste and loving spouse, 
 a devoted mother, an incomparable housewife in one 
 phrase, the faithful guardian of her husband's domestic 
 happiness. She had just passed her fiftieth birthday, 
 and looked fully her age. She had suffered. A close 
 observer would have detected traces of weeping about 
 her wrinkled eyelids; and the twinge of her lips was 
 expressive of cruel anguish, heroically endured. Still, 
 she was not severe, nor even too sedate; and the few 
 friends who visited her were often really astonished at 
 her wit. Besides, she was one of those women who 
 have no history, and who find happiness in what 
 others would call duty. Her life could be summed 
 
108 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 up in a single sentence: she had loved; she had 
 mourned. 
 
 The daughter of a petty clerk in one of the govern- 
 ment departments, and merely dowered with a modest 
 portion of three thousand francs, she had married a 
 young man as poor as herself, but intelligent and indus- 
 trious, whom she loved, and who adored her. This 
 young man on marrying had sworn that he would make 
 a fortune; not that he cared for money for himself, 
 but he wished to provide his idol with every luxury. 
 His love, enhancing his energy, no doubt hastened his 
 success. Attached as a chemist to a large manufac- 
 turing establishment, his services soon became so in- 
 valuable to his employers that they gave him a con- 
 siderable interest in the business. His name even 
 obtained an honorable place among modern inventors; 
 and we are indebted to him for the discovery of one 
 of those brilliant colors that are extracted from com- 
 mon coal. At the end of ten years he had become a 
 man of means. He loved his wife as fondly as on the 
 day of their marriage, and he had a son Pascal. 
 
 Unfortunate fellow ! One day, in the full sunshine 
 of happiness and success, while he was engaged in a 
 series of experiments for the purpose of obtaining a 
 durable, and at the same time perfectly harmless, green, 
 the chemicals exploded, smashing the mortar which he 
 held, and wounding him horribly about the head and 
 chest. A fortnight later he died, apparently calm, but 
 in reality a prey to bitter regrets. It was a terrible 
 blow for his poor wife, and the thought of her son 
 alone reconciled her to life. Pascal was now every- 
 thing to her her present and her future; and she 
 solemnly vowed that she would make a noble man of 
 him. But, alas ! misfortunes never come singly. One 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 109 
 
 of fter husband's friends, who acted as administrator 
 to the estate, took a contemptible advantage of her in- 
 experience. She went to sleep one night possessing an 
 income of fifteen thousand francs^ but she awoke to 
 find herself ruined so completely ruined that she did 
 not know where to obtain her dinner for that same 
 .evening. Had she been alone in the world, she would 
 not have grieved much over the catastrophe, but she 
 was sadly affected by the thought that her son's future 
 was, perhaps, irrevocably blighted, and that, in any 
 case, this disaster would condemn him to enter 
 life through the cramped and gloomy portals of 
 poverty. 
 
 However, Madame Ferailleur was of too courageous 
 and too proud a nature not to meet this danger with 
 virile energy. She wasted no time in useless lamentations. 
 She determined to repair the harm as far as it was in 
 her power to repair it, resolving that her son's studies 
 at the college of Louis-the-Great should not be inter- 
 rupted, even if she had to labor with her own hands. 
 And when she spoke of manual toil, it was no wild, 
 inmeaning exaggeration born of sorrow and a passing 
 flash of courage. She found employment as a day- 
 servant and in sewing for large shops, until she at 
 last obtained a situation as clerk in the establishment 
 where her husband had been a partner. To obtain this 
 she was obliged to acquire a knowledge of bookkeep- 
 ing, but she was amply repaid for her trouble; for the 
 situation was worth eighteen hundred francs a year, 
 besides food and lodging. Then only did her efforts 
 momentarily abate ; she felt that her arduous task was 
 drawing to a happy close. Pascal's expenses at school 
 amounted to about nine hundred francs a year; she did 
 not spend more than one hundred on herself; and thus 
 
110 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 she was able to save nearly eight hundred francs a 
 year. 
 
 It must be admitted that she was admirably seconded 
 in her efforts by hef son. Pascal was only twelve years 
 old when his mother said to him : " I have ruined you, 
 my son. Nothing remains of the fortune which your 
 father accumulated by dint of toil and self-sacrifice. 
 You will be obliged to rely upon yourself, my boy. 
 God grant that in years to come you will not reproach 
 me for my imprudence." 
 
 The child did not throw himself into her arms, but 
 holding his head proudly erect, he answered : " I shall 
 love you even more, dear mother, if that be possible. 
 As for the fortune which my father left you, I will 
 restore it to you again. I am no longer a school-boy, 
 I am a man as you shall see." 
 
 One could not fail to perceive that he had taken a 
 solemn vow. Although he possessed a remarkable 
 mind, and the power of acquiring knowledge rapidly, 
 he had, so far, worked indifferently, and then only 
 by fits and starts, whenever examination time drew 
 near. But from that day forward he did not lose 
 a moment. His remarks, which were at once comical 
 and touching, were those of the head of a family, deeply 
 impressed by a sense of his own responsibility. " You 
 see," he said to his companions, who were astonished 
 at his sudden thirst for knowledge, " I can't afford to 
 wear out my breeches on the college forms, now that 
 my poor mother has to pay for them with her work." 
 
 His good-humor was not in the least impaired by his 
 resolve not to spend a single penny of his pocket 
 money. With a tact unusual at his age, or indeed at 
 any other, he bore his misfortunes simply and proudly, 
 without any of the servile humility or sullen envy 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 111 
 
 which so often accompanies poverty. For three years 
 in succession the highest prizes at the competitions re- 
 warded him for his efforts; but these successes, far 
 from elating him unduly, seemed to afford him but 
 little satisfaction. "This is only glory," he thought; 
 and his great ambition was to support himself. 
 
 He was soon able to do so, thanks to the kindness 
 of the head-master, who offered him his tuition gratis 
 if he would assist in superintending some of the lower 
 classes. Thus one day when Madame Ferailleur pre- 
 sented herself as usual to make her quarterly payment, 
 the steward replied : " You owe us nothing, madame ; 
 everything has been paid by your son." 
 
 She almost fainted ; after bearing adversity so brave- 
 ly, this happiness proved too much for her. She could 
 scarcely believe it. A long explanation was necessary 
 to convince her of the truth, and then big tears, tears 
 of joy this time, gushed from her eyes. 
 
 In this way, Pascal Ferailleur paid all the expenses 
 of his education until he had won his degree, arming 
 himself so as to resist the trials that awaited him, and 
 giving abundant proof of energy and ability. He 
 wished to be a lawyer; and the law, he was forced to 
 admit, is a profession which is almost beyond the reach 
 of penniless young men. But there are no insurmount- 
 able obstacles for those whose hearts are really set on 
 an object. On the very day that Pascal inscribed his 
 name as a student at the law school, he entered an 
 advocate's office as a clerk. His duties, which were 
 extremely tiresome at first, had the two-fold advantage 
 of familiarizing him with the forms of legal procedure, 
 and of furnishing him with the means of prosecuting 
 his studies. After he had been in the office six months, 
 his employer agreed to pay him eight hundred francs a 
 
112 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 year, which were increased to fifteen hundred at the 
 end of the second twelvemonth. In three years, when 
 he had passed his final examination qualifying him to 
 practise, his patron raised him to the position of head- 
 clerk, with a salary of three thousand francs, which 
 Pascal was moreover able to increase considerably by 
 drawing up documents for busy attorneys, and assist- 
 ing them in the preparation of their least important 
 cases. 
 
 It was certainly something wonderful to have 
 achieved such a result in so short a time; but the most 
 difficult part of his task had still to be accomplished. 
 It was a perilous undertaking to abandon an assured 
 position, to cast a certainty aside for the chances of 
 life at the bar. It was a grave step so grave, indeed, 
 that Pascal hesitated for a long time. He was threat- 
 ened with the danger that always threatens subordinates 
 who are useful to their superiors. He felt that his 
 employer, who was in the habit of relieving himself of 
 his heaviest duties by intrusting them to him, would 
 not be likely to forgive him for leaving. And on start- 
 ing on his own account, he could ill afford to dispense 
 with this lawyer's good-will. The patronage that could 
 scarcely fail to follow him from an office where he had 
 served for four years was the most substantial basis of 
 his calculations for the future. Eventually he succeeded 
 to his satisfaction, though not without some difficulty, 
 and only by employing that supreme finesse which con- 
 sists in absolute frankness. 
 
 Before his office had been open a fortnight, he had 
 seven or eight briefs waiting their turn upon his desk, 
 and his first efforts were such as win the approving 
 smile of old judges, and draw from them the predic- 
 tion : " That young man will rise in his profession." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 113 
 
 He had not desired to make any display of his knowl- 
 edge or talent, but merely to win the cases confided to 
 him ; and, unlike many beginners, he evinced no inclina- 
 tion to shine at his clients' expense. Rare modesty, 
 and it served him well. His first ten months of prac- 
 tice brought him about eight thousand francs, absorbed 
 in part by the expense attaching to a suitable office. 
 The second year his fees increased by about one-half, 
 and, feeling that his position was now assured, he 
 insisted that his mother should resign her clerkship. 
 He proved to her what was indeed the truth that by 
 superintending his establishment, she would save more 
 than she made in her present position. 
 
 From that time the mother and the son had good 
 reason to believe that their heroic energy had conquered 
 fate. Clients became so numerous that Pascal found 
 it necessary to draw nearer the business centre, and 
 his rent was consequently doubled; but the income he 
 derived from his profession increased so rapidly that 
 he soon had twelve thousand francs safely invested as 
 j. resource against any emergency. Madame Ferailleur 
 now laid aside the mourning she had worn since her 
 husband's death. She felt that she owed it to Pascal; 
 and, besides, after believing there was no more happi- 
 ness left for her on earth, her heart rejoiced at her 
 son's success. 
 
 Pascal was thus on the high-road to fame, when a 
 complication in M. Ferdinand de Coralth's affairs 
 brought that young nobleman to his office. The trouble 
 arose from a little stock exchange operation which M. 
 Ferdinand had engaged in an affair which savored a 
 trifle of knavery. It was strange, but Pascal rather 
 took a liking to M. de Coralth. The honest worker 
 felt interested in this dashing adventurer; he was al- 
 
114 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 most dazzled by his brilliant vices, his wit, his hardi- 
 hood, conceit, marvellous assurance, and careless im- 
 pudence; and he studied this specimen of the Parisian 
 flora with no little curiosity. M. de Coralth certainly 
 did not confide the secret of his life and his resources 
 to Pascai but the latter' s intelligence should have told 
 him to distiust a man who treated the requirements of 
 morality even more than cavalierly, and who had in- 
 finitely more wants than scruples. However, the young 
 advocate seemed to have no suspicions ; they exchanged 
 visits occasionally, and it was Pascal himself who one 
 day requested the viscount to take him to one of those 
 " Reunions in High Life " which the newspapers de- 
 scribe in such glowing terms. 
 
 Madame Ferailleur was playing a game of whist with 
 a party of old friends, according to her custom every 
 Thursday evening, when M. de Coralth called to invite 
 the young advocate to accompany him to Madame 
 d'Argeles's reception. Pascal considered his friend's 
 invitation exceedingly well timed. He dressed himself 
 with more than ordinary care, and, as usual before 
 going out, he approached his mother to kiss her and 
 wish her good-bye. " How fine you are ! " she said, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I am going to a soiree, my dear mother/' he re- 
 plied; "and it is probable that I shall not return until 
 very late. So don't wait for me, I beg of you ; promise 
 me to go to bed at your usual hour." 
 
 " Have you the night-key ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Very well, then; I will not wait for you. When 
 you come in you will find your candle and some matches 
 on the buffet in the ante-room. And wrap yourself 
 up well, for it is very cold." Then raising her fore- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 115 
 
 head to her son's lips, she gayly added : " A pleasant 
 evening to you, my boy ! " 
 
 Faithful to her promise,, Madame Ferailleur retired 
 at the usual hour; but she could not sleep. She cer- 
 tainly had no cause for anxiety, and yet the thought 
 that her son was not at home filled her heart with vague 
 misgivings such as she had never previously felt under 
 similar circumstances. Possibly it was because she 
 did not know where Pascal was going. Possibly M. 
 de Coralth was the cause of her strange disquietude, 
 for she utterly disliked the viscount. Her woman's 
 instinct warned her that there was something unwhole- 
 some about this young man's peculiar handsomeness, 
 and that it was not safe to trust to his professions of 
 friendship. At all events, she lay awake and heard the 
 clock of the neighboring Normal School strike each 
 successive hour two, three, and four. " How late 
 Pascal stays," she said to herself. 
 
 And suddenly a fear more poignant even than her 
 presentiments darted through her mind. She sprang 
 out of bed and rushed to the window. She fancied she 
 had heard a terrible cry of distress in the deserted 
 street. At that very moment, the insulting word 
 " thief " was being hurled in her son's face. But the 
 street was silent, and deciding that she had been mis- 
 taken, she went back to bed laughing at herself for her 
 fears; and at last she fell asleep. But judge of her 
 terror in the morning when, on rising to let the servant 
 in, she saw Pascal's candle still standing on the buffet. 
 Was it possible that he had not returned? She hast- 
 ened to his room he was not there. And it was nearly 
 eight o'clock. 
 
 This was the first time that Pascal had spent a night 
 from home without warning his mother in advance; 
 
116 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and such an act on the part of a man of his character 
 was sufficient proof that something extraordinary had 
 occurred. In an instant all the dangers that lurk in 
 Paris after nightfall flashed through her mind. She 
 remembered all the stories she had read of men decoyed 
 into dark corners, of men stabbed at the turn of some 
 deserted street, or thrown into the Seine while crossing 
 'One of the bridges. What should she do? Her first 
 impulse was to run to the Commissary of Police's office 
 or to the house of Pascal's friend; but on the other 
 hand, she dared not go out, for fear he might return 
 in her absence. Thus, in an agony of suspense, she 
 waited counting the seconds by the quick throbbings 
 of her temples, and straining her ears to catch the 
 slightest sound. 
 
 At last, about half-past eight o'clock, she heard a 
 heavy, uncertain footfall on the stairs. She flew to the 
 door and beheld her son. His clothes were torn and 
 disordered; his cravat was missing, he wore no over- 
 coat, and he was bareheaded. He looked very 
 pale, and his teeth were chattering. His eyes stared 
 vacantly, and his features had an almost idiotic ex- 
 pression. " Pascal, what has happened to you ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 He trembled from head to foot as the sound of her 
 voice suddenly roused him from his stupor. " Nothing," 
 he stammered; "nothing at all." And as his mother 
 pressed him with questions, he pushed her gently aside 
 and went on to his room. 
 
 " Poor child ! " murmured Madame Ferailleur, at 
 once grieved and reassured; "and he is always so 
 temperate. Some one must have forced him to drink." 
 
 She was entirely wrong in her surmise, and yet 
 Pascal's sensations were exactly like those of an in- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 117 
 
 toxicated man. How he had returned home, by what 
 road, and what had happened on the way, he could not 
 tell. He had found his way back mechanically, merely 
 by force of habit physical memory, as it might be 
 called. He had a vague impression, however, that he 
 had sat down for some time on a bench in the Champs- 
 Elysees, that he had felt extremely cold, and that he 
 had been accosted by a policeman, who threatened him 
 with arrest if he did not move on. The last thing he 
 could clearly recollect was rushing from Madame 
 d'Argeles's house in the Rue de Berry. He knew 
 that he had descended the staircase slowly and deliber- 
 ately ; that the servants in the vestibule had stood aside 
 to allow him to pass ; and that, while crossing the court- 
 yard, he had thrown away the candelabrum with which 
 he had defended himself. After that, he remembered 
 nothing distinctly. On reaching the street he had been 
 overcome by the fresh air, just as a carouser is over- 
 come on emerging from a heated dining-room. Per- 
 haps the champagne which he had drank had con- 
 tributed to this cerebral disorder. At all events, even 
 now, in his own room, seated in his own arm-chair, and 
 surrounded by familiar objects, he did not succeed in 
 regaining the possession of his faculties. 
 
 He had barely strength enough to throw himself on 
 to the bed, and in a moment he was sleeping with that 
 heavy slumber which so often seizes hold of one on the 
 occasion of a great crisis, and which has so frequently 
 been observed among persons condemned to death, on 
 the night preceding their execution. Four or five times 
 his mother came to listen at the door. Once she en- 
 tered, and seeing her son sleeping soundly, she could 
 not repress a smile of satisfaction. " Poor Pascal ! " 
 she thought; "he can bear no excess but excess of 
 
118 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 work. Heavens ! how surprised and mortified he will 
 foe when he awakes ! " 
 
 Alas ! it was not a trifling mortification, but despair, 
 which awaited the sleeper on his wakening; for the 
 past, the present, and the future were presented simul- 
 taneously and visionlike to his imagination. Although 
 he had scarcely regained the full use of his faculties, 
 he was, to some extent, at least capable of reflection 
 and deliberation, and he tried to look the situation 
 bravely in the face. First, as to the past, he had not 
 the shadow of a doubt. He realized that he had fallen 
 into a vile trap, and the person who had laid it for him 
 was undoubtedly M. de Coralth, who, seated at his 
 right, had prepared the " hands " with which he had 
 won. This was evident. It seemed equally proven 
 that Madame d'Argeles knew the real culprit possibly 
 she had detected him in the act, possibly he had taken 
 her into his confidence. But what he could not fathom 
 was M. de Coralth's motive. What could have prompted 
 the viscount to commit such an atrocious act? The in- 
 centive must have been very powerful, since he had 
 naturally incurred the danger of detection and of being 
 considered an accomplice at the least. And then what 
 influence had closed Madame d'Argeles's lips? But 
 after all, what was the use of these conjectures? It 
 was an actual, unanswerable, and terrible fact that this 
 infamous plot had been successful, and that Pascal was 
 dishonored. He was honesty itself, and yet he was 
 accused more than that, convicted of cheating at 
 cards ! He was innocent, and yet he could furnish no 
 proofs of his innocence. He knew the real culprit, and 
 yet he could see no way of unmasking him or even of 
 accusing him. Do what he would, this atrocious, in- 
 comprehensive calumny would crush him. The bar was 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 119 
 
 closed against him ; his career was ended. And the 
 terrible conviction that there was no escape from the 
 abyss into which he had fallen made his reason totter 
 he felt that he was incapable of deciding on the best 
 course, and that he must have a friend's advice. 
 
 Full of this idea, he hastily changed his clothes, and 
 hurried from his room. His mother was watching for 
 him inclined to laugh at him a little; but a single 
 glance warned her that her son was in terrible trouble, 
 and that some dire misfortune had certainly befallen 
 him. " Pascal, in heaven's name, what has happened ? " 
 she cried. 
 
 "A slight difficulty a mere trifle," he replied. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " To the Palais de Justice." And such was really 
 the case, for he hoped to meet his most intimate friend 
 there. 
 
 Contrary to his usual custom, he took the little stair- 
 case on the right, leading to the grand vestibule, where 
 several lawyers were assembled, earnestly engaged in 
 conversation. They were evidently astonished to see 
 Pascal, and their conversation abruptly ceased on his 
 approach. They assumed a grave look and turned 
 away their heads in disgust. The unfortunate man at 
 once realized the truth, and pressed his hand to his 
 forehead, with a despairing gesture, as he murmured: 
 " Already ! already ! " 
 
 However, he passed on, and not seeing his friend, he 
 hurried to the little conference hall, where he found 
 five of his fellow-advocates. On Pascal's entrance, two 
 of them at once left the hall, while two of the others 
 pretended to be very busily engaged in examining a 
 brief which lay open on the table. The fifth, who did 
 not move, was not the friend Pascal sought, but an old 
 
120 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 college comrade named Dartelle. Pascal walked 
 straight toward him. " Well? " he asked. 
 
 Dartelle handed him a Figaro, still damp from the 
 printing-press, but crumpled and worn, as if it had 
 already passed through more than a hundred hands. 
 " Read ! " said he. 
 
 Pascal read as follows : " There was great sensation 
 and a terrible scandal last night at the residence of 
 Madame d'A , a well-known star of the first magni- 
 tude. A score of gentlemen of high rank and immense 
 wealth were enjoying a quiet game of baccarat, when it 
 
 Was observed that M. F was winning in a most 
 
 extraordinary manner. He was watched and detected 
 in the very act of dexterously slipping some cards into 
 the pack he held. Crushed by the overpowering evi- 
 dence against him, he allowed himself to be searched, 
 and without much demur consented to refund the fruit 
 of his knavery, to the amount of two thousand louis. 
 The strangest thing connected with this scandal is, that 
 
 M. F , who is an advocate by profession, has always 
 
 enjoyed an enviable reputation for integrity; and, un- 
 fortunately, this prank cannot be attributed to a mo- 
 mentary fit of madness, for the fact that he had pro- 
 vided himself with these cards in advance proves the 
 act to have been premeditated. One of the persons 
 present was especially displeased. This was the Vis- 
 count de C , who had introduced M. F to 
 
 Madame d'A . Extremely annoyed by this contre- 
 temps, he took umbrage at an offensive remark made 
 by M. de R , and it was rumored that these gentle- 
 men would cross swords at daybreak this morning. 
 
 "LATER INTELLIGENCE. We learn at the moment 
 of going to press that an encounter has just taken place 
 between M. de R and M. de C . M. de R 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 121 
 
 received a slight wound in the side, but his condition is 
 sufficiently satisfactory not to alarm his friends." 
 
 The paper slipped from Pascal's hand. His features 
 were almost unrecognizable in his passion and despair. 
 " It is an infamous lie ! " he said, hoarsely. " I am 
 innocent ; I swear it upon my honor ! " Dartelle avert- 
 ed his face, but not quickly enough to prevent Pascal 
 from noticing the look of withering scorn in his eyes. 
 Then, feeling that he was condemned, that his sentence 
 was irrevocable, and that there was no longer any hope : 
 " I know the only thing that remains for me to do ! " 
 he murmured. 
 
 Dartelle turned, his eyes glistening with tears. He 
 seized Pascal's hands and pressed them with sorrowful 
 tenderness, as if taking leave of a friend who is about 
 to die. " Courage ! " he whispered. 
 
 Pascal fled like a madman. " Yes," he repeated, as 
 he rushed along the Boulevard Saint-Michel, " that is 
 the only thing left me to do." 
 
 When he reached home he entered his office, double- 
 locked the door, and wrote two letters one to his 
 mother, the other to the president of the order of 
 Advocates. After a moment's thought he began a third, 
 but tore it into pieces before he had completed it. Then, 
 without an instant's hesitation, and like a man who 
 had fully decided upon his course, he took a revolver 
 and a box of cartridges from a drawer in his desk. 
 " Poor mother ! " he murmured ; " it will kill her but 
 my disgrace would kill her too. Better shorten the 
 agony." 
 
 He little fancied at that supreme moment that each 
 of his gestures, each contraction of his features, were 
 viewed by the mother whose name he faltered. Since 
 her son had left her to go to the Palais de Justice, the 
 
122 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 poor woman had remained almost crazy with anxiety; 
 and when she heard him return and lock himself in his 
 office a thing he had never done before a fearful 
 presentiment was aroused in her mind. Gliding into 
 her son's bedroom,, she at once approached the door 
 communicating with his office. The upper part of this 
 portal was of glass ; it was possible to see what was 
 occurring in the adjoining room. When Madame 
 Ferailleur perceived Pascal seat himself at his desk and 
 begin to write, she felt a trifle reassured, and almost 
 thought of going away. But a vague dread, stronger 
 than reason or will, riveted her to the spot. A few 
 moments later, when she saw the revolver in her son's 
 hand, she understood everything. Her blood froze in 
 her veins; and yet she had sufficient self-control to re- 
 press the cry of terror which sprang to her lips. She 
 realized that the danger was terrible, imminent, ex- 
 treme. Her heart, rather than her bewildered reason, 
 told her that her son's life hung on a single thread. 
 The slightest sound, a word, a rap on the door might 
 hasten the unfortunate man's deed. 
 
 An inspiration from heaven came to the poor mother. 
 Pascal had contented himself with locking the door 
 leading to the ante-room. He had forgotten this one, 
 or neglected it, not thinking that anybody would ap- 
 proach his office through his bedroom. But his mother 
 perceived that this door opened toward her. So, turning 
 the knob with the utmost caution, she flung it suddenly 
 open, and reaching her son's side with a single bound, 
 she clasped him closely in her arms. " Pascal, wretched 
 boy! what would you do?" 
 
 He was so surprised that his weapon fell from his 
 hand, and he sank back almost fainting in his arm- 
 chair. The idea of denying his intention never once 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 123 
 
 occurred to him ; besides, he was unable to articulate a 
 word. But on his desk there lay a letter addressed to 
 his mother which would speak for him. 
 
 Madame Ferailleur took it, tore the envelope open, 
 and read : " Forgive me I'm about to die. It must be 
 so. I cannot survive dishonor ; and I am dishonored/' 
 
 " Dishonored ! you ! " exclaimed the heartbroken 
 mother. " My God ! what does this mean ? Speak. I 
 implore you : tell me all you must. I command you 
 to do so. I command you ! " 
 
 He complied with this at once supplicating and im- 
 perious behest, and related in a despairing voice the 
 events which had wrought his woe. He did not omit 
 a single particular, but tried rather to exaggerate than 
 palliate the horrors of his situation. Perhaps he found 
 a strange satisfaction in proving to himself that there 
 was no hope left ; possibly he believed his mother would 
 say : " Yes, you are right ; and death is your only 
 refuge ! " 
 
 As Madame Ferailleur listened, however, her eyes 
 dilated with fear and horror, and she scarcely realized 
 whether she were awake or in the midst of some fright- 
 ful dream. For this was one of those unexpected catas- 
 trophes which are beyond the range of human foresight 
 or even imagination, and which her mind could scarcely 
 conceive or admit. But she did not doubt him, even 
 though his friends had doubted him. Indeed, if he had 
 himself told her that he was guilty of cheating at cards, 
 she would have refused to believe him. When his story 
 was ended, she exclaimed: "And you wished to kill 
 yourself? Did you not think, senseless boy, that your 
 death would give an appearance of truth to this vile 
 calumny ? " 
 
 With a mother's wonderful, sublime instinct, she had 
 
124 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 found the most powerful reason that could be urged to 
 induce Pascal to live. " Did you not feel, my son, that 
 it showed a lack of courage on your part to brand your- 
 self and your name with eternal infamy, in order to 
 escape your present sufferings? This thought ought 
 to have stayed your hand. An honest name is a sacred 
 trust which no one has a right to abuse. Your father 
 bequeathed it to you, pure and untarnished, and so you 
 must preserve it. If others try to cover it with op- 
 probrium, you must live to defend it." 
 
 He lowered his head despondently, and in a tone of 
 profound discouragement, he replied : " But what can 
 I do? How can I escape from the web which has been 
 woven around me with such fiendish cunning? If I 
 had possessed my usual presence of mind at the mo- 
 ment of the accusation, I might have defended and 
 justified myself, perhaps. But now the misfortune is 
 irreparable. How can I unmask the traitor, and what 
 proofs of his guilt can I cast in his face ? " 
 
 " All the same, you ought not to yield without a 
 struggle/' interrupted Madame Ferailleur, sternly. " It 
 is wrong to abandon a task because it is difficult; it 
 must be accepted, and, even if one perish in the strug- 
 gle, there is, at least, the satisfaction of feeling that 
 one has not failed in duty." 
 
 " But, mother " 
 
 " I must not keep the truth from you, Pascal ! What ! 
 are you lacking in energy? Come, my son, rise and 
 raise your head. I shall not let you fight alone. I 
 will fight with you." 
 
 Without speaking a word, Pascal caught hold of his 
 mother's hands and pressed them to his lips. His face 
 was wet with tears. His overstrained nerves relaxed 
 under the soothing influence of maternal tenderness and 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 125 
 
 devotion. Reason, too, had regained her ascendency. 
 His mother's noble words found an echo in his own 
 heart, and he now looked upon suicide as an act of 
 madness and cowardice. Madame Ferailleur felt that 
 the victory was assured, but this did not suffice; she 
 wished to enlist Pascal in her plans. " It is evident," 
 she resumed, " that M. de Coralth is the author of this 
 abominable plot. But what could have been his object? 
 Has he any reason to fear you, Pascal? Has he con- 
 fided to you, or have you discovered, any secret that 
 might ruin him if it were divulged ? " 
 
 " No, mother." 
 
 " Then he must be the vile instrument of some even 
 more despicable being. Reflect, my son. Have you 
 wounded any of your friends? Are you sure that you 
 are in nobody's way? Consider carefully. Your pro- 
 fession has its dangers; and those who adopt it must 
 expect to make bitter enemies." 
 
 Pascal trembled. It seemed to him as if a ray of 
 light at last illumined the darkness a dim and uncer- 
 tain ray, it is true, but still a gleam of light. 
 
 " Who knows ! " he muttered ; " who knows ! " 
 
 Madame Ferailleur reflected a few moments, and the 
 nature of her reflections brought a flush to her brow. 
 "This is one of those cases in which a mother should 
 overstep reserve," said she. "If you had a mistress, 
 my son " 
 
 " I have none," he answered, promptly. Then his 
 own face flushed, and after an instant's hesitation, he 
 added : " But I entertain the most profound and rever- 
 ent love for a young girl, the most beautiful and chaste 
 being on earth a girl who, in intelligence and heart, is 
 worthy of you, my own mother." 
 
 Madame Ferailleur nodded her head gravely, as 
 
126 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 much as to say that she had expected to find a woman 
 at the bottom of the mystery. " And who is this young 
 girl ? " she inquired. " What is her name ? " 
 
 " Marguerite." 
 
 " Marguerite who ? " 
 
 Pascal's embarrassment increased. " She has no 
 other name/' he replied, hurriedly, " and she does not 
 know her parents. She formerly lived in our street 
 with her companion, Madame Leon, and an old female 
 servant. It was there that I saw her for the first time. 
 She now lives in the house of the Count de Chalusse, 
 in the Rue de Courcelles." 
 
 " In what capacity ? " 
 
 " The count has always taken care of her she owes 
 her education to him. He acts as her guardian; and 
 although she has never spoken to me on the subject, 
 I fancy that the Count de Chalusse is her father." 
 
 " And does this girl love you, Pascal ? " 
 
 " I believe so, mother. She has promised me that 
 she will have no other husband than myself." 
 
 "And the count?" 
 
 " He doesn't know he doesn't even suspect any- 
 thing about it. Day after day I have been trying to 
 gather courage to tell you everything, and to ask you 
 to go to the Count de Chalusse. But my position is so 
 modest as yet. The count is immensely rich, and he 
 intends to give Marguerite an enormous fortune two 
 millions, I believe " 
 
 Madame Ferailleur interrupted him with a gesture. 
 <e Look no further/' she said ; " you have found the 
 explanation." 
 
 Pascal sprang to his feet with crimson cheeks, flam- 
 ing eyes, and quivering lips. " It may be so," he ex- 
 claimed ; " it may be so ! The count's immense fortune 
 
THE C'UUNT'S MILLIONS 127 
 
 may have tempted some miserable scoundrel. Who 
 knows but some one may have been watching Mar- 
 guerite, and have discovered that I am an obstacle?" 
 
 " Something told me that my suspicions were cor- 
 rect/' said Madame Ferailleur. " I had no proofs, 
 and yet I felt sure of it." 
 
 Pascal was absorbed in thought. " And what a 
 strange coincidence/' he eventually remarked. " Do 
 you know, the last time I saw Marguerite, a week ago, 
 she seemed so sad and anxious that I felt alarmed. I 
 questioned her, but at first she would not answer. 
 After a little while, however, as I insisted, she said: 
 ' Ah, well, I fear the count is planning a marriage for 
 me. M. de Chalusse has not said a word to me on the 
 subject, but he has recently had several long confer- 
 ences in private with a young man whose father ren- 
 dered him a great service in former years. And this 
 young man, whenever I meet him, looks at me in such 
 a peculiar manner.' ' ; 
 
 " What is his name ? " asked Madame Ferailleur. 
 
 " I don't know she didn't mention it ; and her words 
 so disturbed me that I did not think of asking. But she 
 will tell me. This evening, if I don't succeed in ob- 
 taining an interview, I will write to her. If your 
 suspicions are correct, mother, our secret is in the 
 hands of three persons, and so it is a secret no 
 longer " 
 
 He paused suddenly to listen. The noise of a spir- 
 ited altercation between the servant and some visitor, 
 came from the ante-room. "I tell you that he is at 
 home/' said some one in a panting voice, " and I 
 must see him and speak with him at once. It is such 
 an urgent matter that I left a card-party just at the 
 most critical moment to come here." 
 
128 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " I assure you, monsieur,, that M. Ferailleur has gone 
 out." 
 
 " Very well ; I will wait for him, then. Take me to 
 a room where I can sit down/' 
 
 Pascal turned pale, for he recognized the voice of 
 the individual who had suggested searching him at 
 Madame d'Argeles's house. Nevertheless, he opened 
 the door ; and a man, with a face like a full moon, and 
 who was puffing and panting like a locomotive, came 
 forward with the assurance of a person who thinks he 
 may do anything he chooses by reason of his wealth. 
 " Zounds ! " he exclaimed. " I knew perfectly well that 
 you were here. You don't recognize me, perhaps, my 
 dear sir. I am Baron Trigault I came to " 
 
 The words died away on his lips, and he became as 
 embarrassed as if he had not possessed an income of 
 eight hundred thousand francs a year. The fact is he 
 had just perceived Madame Ferailleur. He bowed to 
 her, and then, with a significant glance at Pascal he 
 said : " I should like to speak to you in private, mon- 
 sieur, in reference to a matter " 
 
 Great as was Pascal's astonishment, he showed none 
 of it on his face. " You can speak in my mother's 
 presence/' he replied, coldly ; " she knows everything." 
 
 The baron's surprise found vent in a positive distor- 
 tion of his features. <e Ah ! " said he, in three different 
 tones ; " ah ! ah ! " And as no one had offered him a 
 seat, he approached an arm-chair and took possession 
 of it, exclaiming, " You will allow me, I trust ? Those 
 stairs have put me in such a state ! " 
 
 In spite of his unwieldy appearance, this wealthy 
 man was endowed with great natural shrewdness and 
 an unusually active mind. And while he pretended to 
 be engaged in recovering his breath he studied the room 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 129 
 
 and its occupants. A revolver was lying on the floor 
 beside a torn and crumpled letter, and tears were still 
 glittering in the eyes of Madame Ferailleur and her 
 son. A keen observer needed no further explanation 
 of the scene. 
 
 " I will not conceal from you, monsieur/' began the 
 baron,, " that I have been led here by certain compunc- 
 tions of conscience." And, misinterpreting a gesture 
 which Pascal made, " I mean what I say," he con- 
 tinued ; " compunctions of conscience. I have them oc- 
 casionally. Your departure this morning, after that 
 deplorable scene, caused certain doubts and suspicions 
 to arise in my mind ; and I said to myself, ' We have 
 been too hasty; perhaps this young man may not be 
 guilty.'" 
 
 66 Monsieur ! " interrupted Pascal, in a threatening 
 tone. 
 
 " Excuse me, allow me to finish, if you please. Re- 
 flection, I must confess, only confirmed this impression, 
 and increased my doubts. ' The devil ! ' I said to my- 
 self again ; ' if this young man is innocent, the culprit 
 must be one of the habitues of Madame d'Argeles's 
 house that is to say, a man with whom I play twice 
 a week, and whom I shall play with again next Mon- 
 day/ And then I became uneasy, and here I am ! " 
 Was the absurd reason which the baron gave for his 
 visit the true one ? It was difficult to decide. " I 
 came," he continued, "thinking that a look at your 
 home would teach me something; and now I have seen 
 it, I am ready to take my oath that you are the victim 
 of a vile conspiracy." 
 
 So saying he noisily blew his nose, but this did not 
 prevent him from observing the quiet joy of Pascal and 
 his mother. They were amazed. But although these 
 
130 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 words were calculated to make them feel intensely 
 happy, they still looked at their visitor with distrust. 
 It is not natural for a person to interest himself in 
 other people's misfortunes, unless he has some special 
 motive for doing so ; and what could this singular man's 
 object be? 
 
 However, he did not seem in the slightest degree dis- 
 concerted by the glacial reserve with which his ad- 
 vances were received. " It is clear that you are in 
 some one's way," he resumed, " and that this some one 
 has invented this method of ruining you. There can be 
 no question about it. The intention became manifest to 
 my mind the moment I read the paragraph concerning 
 you in the Figaro. Have you seen it? Yes? Well, 
 what do you think of it? I would be willing to swear 
 that it was written from notes furnished by your enemy. 
 Moreover, the particulars are incorrect, and I am going 
 to write a line of correction which I shall take to the 
 office myself." So saying he transported his unwieldy 
 person to Pascal's desk, and hastily wrote as follows: 
 
 " MR. EDITOR, 
 
 <( As a witness of the scene that took place at Madame 
 d'A s's house last night, allow me to make an im- 
 portant correction. It is only too true that extra cards 
 were introduced into the pack, but that they were intro- 
 duced by M. F is not proven, since he was not 
 
 seen to do it. I know that appearances are against 
 him, but he nevertheless possesses my entire confidence 
 and esteem. 
 
 "BARON TRIGAULT." 
 
 Meanwhile Madame Ferailleur and her son had ex- 
 changed significant glances. Their impressions were 
 the same. This man could not be an enemy. When 
 the baron had finished his letter, and had read it aloud, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 131 
 
 Pascal, who was deeply moved, exclaimed : " I do not 
 know how to express my gratitude to you, monsieur; 
 but if you really wish to serve me, pray don't send that 
 note. It would cause you a great deal of trouble and 
 annoyance, and I should none the less be obliged to 
 relinquish the practice of my profession besides, I am 
 especially anxious to be forgotten for a time." 
 
 " So be it I understand you ; you hope to discover 
 the traitor, and you do not wish to put him on his 
 guard. I approve of your prudence. But remember 
 my words : if you ever need a helping hand, rap at 
 my door; and when you hold the necessary proofs, I 
 will furnish you with the means of rendering your 
 justification even more startling than the affront." He 
 prepared to go, but before crossing the threshold, he 
 turned and said : " In future I shall watch the fingers 
 of the player who sits on my left hand. And if I 
 were in your place, I would obtain the notes from which 
 that newspaper article was written. One never knows 
 the benefit that may be derived, at a certain moment, 
 from a page of writing." 
 
 As he started off, Madame Ferailleur sprang from 
 her chair. " Pascal," she exclaimed, " that man knows 
 something, and your enemies are his ; I read it in his 
 eyes. He, too, distrusts M. de Coralth." 
 
 " I understood him, mother, and my mind is made 
 up. I must disappear. From this moment Pascal 
 
 Ferailleur no longer exists." 
 
 * # * * # 
 
 That same evening two large vans were standing 
 outside Madame Ferailleur's house. She had sold her 
 furniture without reserve, and was starting to join her 
 son, who had already left for Le Havre, she said, in 
 view of sailing to America. 
 
132 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 VI. 
 
 "THERE are a number of patients waiting for me. I 
 will drop in again about midnight. I still have several 
 urgent visits to make." Thus had Dr. Jodon spoken 
 to Mademoiselle Marguerite ; and yet, when he left the 
 Hotel de Chalusse, after assuring himself that Casimir 
 would have some straw spread over the street, the doc- 
 tor quietly walked home. The visits he had spoken of 
 merely existed in his imagination ; but it was a part of 
 his role to appear to be overrun with patients. To tell 
 the truth, the only patient he had had to attend to that 
 week was a superannuated porter, living in the Rue de 
 la Pepiniere, and whom he visited twice a day, for want 
 of something better to do. The remainder of his time 
 was spent in waiting for patients who never came, and 
 in cursing the profession of medicine, which was ruined, 
 he declared, by excessive competition, combined with 
 certain rules of decorum which hampered young prac- 
 titioners beyond endurance, 
 
 However, if Dr. Jodon had devoted one-half of the 
 time he spent in cursing and building castles in the air 
 to study, he might have, perhaps, raised his little skill 
 to the height of his immense ambition. But neither 
 work nor patience formed any part of his system. He 
 was a man of the present age, and wished to rise 
 speedily with as little trouble as possible. A certain 
 amount of display and assurance, a little luck, and a 
 good deal of advertising would, in his opinion, suffice 
 to bring about this result. It was with this conviction, 
 indeed, that he had taken up his abode in the Rue de 
 Courcelles, situated in one of the most aristocratic quar- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 133 
 
 ters of Paris. But so far, events had shown his theory 
 to be incorrect. In spite of the greatest economy, very 
 cleverly concealed, he had seen the little capital which 
 constituted his entire fortune dwindle away. He had 
 originally possessed but twenty thousand francs, a sum 
 which in no wise corresponded with his lofty preten- 
 sions. He had paid his rent that very morning ; and he 
 could not close his eyes to the fact that the time was 
 near at hand when he would be unable to pay it. What 
 should he do then? When he thought of this con- 
 tingency, and it was a subject that filled his mind to 
 the exclusion of all other matters, he felt the fires of 
 wrath and hatred kindle in his soul. He utterly refused 
 to regard himself as the cause of his own misfortunes ; 
 on the contrary, following the example of many other 
 disappointed individuals, he railed at mankind and 
 everything in general at circumstances, envious ac- 
 quaintances, and enemies, whom he certainly did not 
 possess. 
 
 At times he was capable of doing almost anything to 
 gratify his lust for gold, for the privations which he 
 had endured so long were like oil cast upon the flame 
 of covetousness which was ever burning in his breast. 
 In calmer moments he asked himself at what other 
 door he could knock, in view of hastening the arrival 
 of Fortune. Sometimes he thought of turning dentist, 
 or of trying to find some capitalist who would join 
 him in manufacturing one of those patent medicines 
 which are warranted to yield their promoters a hundred 
 thousand francs a year. On other occasions he dreamed of 
 establishing a monster pharmacy, or of opening a pri- 
 vate hospital. But money was needed to carry out any 
 one of these plans, and he had no money. There was 
 the rub. However, the time was fast approaching when 
 
134 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 he must decide upon his course; he could not possibly 
 hold out much longer. 
 
 His third year of practice in the Rue de Courcelles 
 had not yielded him enough to pay his servant's wages. 
 For he had a servant, of course. He had a valet for 
 the same reason as he had a suite of rooms of a super- 
 ficially sumptuous aspect. Faithful to his system, or, 
 rather, to his master's system, he had sacrificed every- 
 thing to show. The display of gilding in his apart- 
 ments was such as to make a man of taste shut his 
 eyes to escape the sight of it. There were gorgeous 
 carpets and hangings, frescoed ceilings, spurious objects 
 of virtu, and pier-tables loaded with ornaments. An 
 unsophisticated youth from the country would certainly 
 have been dazzled; but it would not do to examine 
 these things too closely- There was more cotton than 
 silk in the velvet covering of the furniture; and if 
 various statuettes placed on brackets at a certain height 
 had been closely inspected, it would have been found 
 that they were of mere plaster, hidden beneath a coat- 
 ing of green paint, sprinkled with copper filings. This 
 plaster, playing the part of bronze, was in perfect 
 keeping with the man, his system, and the present 
 age. 
 
 When the doctor reached home, his first question ta 
 his servant was as usual : " Has any one called ? " 
 
 " No one." 
 
 The doctor sighed, and passing through his superb 
 waiting-room, he entered his consulting sanctum, and 
 seated himself in the chimney corner beside an infini- 
 tesimal fire. He was even more thoughtful than usual. 
 The scene which he had just witnessed at the Count 
 de Chalusse's house recurred to his mind, and he turned 
 it over and over again in his brain, striving to find 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 135 
 
 some way by which he might derive an advantage from 
 the mystery. For he was more than ever convinced 
 that there was a mystery. He had been engrossed in 
 these thoughts for some time, when his meditations 
 were disturbed by a ring at the bell. Who could be 
 calling at this hour? 
 
 The question was answered by his servant, who ap- 
 peared and informed him that a lady, who was in a 
 great hurry, was waiting in the reception-room. " Very 
 well/' was his reply; "but it is best to let her wait a 
 few moments." For he had at least this merit: he 
 never deviated from his system. Under no circum- 
 stances whatever would he have admitted a patient 
 immediately; he wished him to wait so that he might 
 have an opportunity of reflecting on the advantages of 
 consulting a physician whose time was constantly oc- 
 cupied. 
 
 However, when ten minutes or so had elapsed, he 
 opened the door, and a tall lady came quickly forward, 
 throwing back the veil which had concealed her face. 
 She must have been over forty-five; and if she had 
 ever been handsome, there was nothing to indicate it 
 now. She had brown hair, thickly sprinkled with gray, 
 but very coarse and abundant, and growing low over 
 her forehead; her nose was broad and flat; her lips 
 were thick, and her eyes were dull and expressionless. 
 However, her manners were gentle and rather melan- 
 choly; and one would have judged her to be somewhat 
 of a devotee. Still for the time being she seemed 
 greatly agitated. She seated herself at the doctor's 
 invitation; and without waiting for him to ask any 
 questions : " I ought to tell you at once, monsieur," she 
 began, "that I am the Count de Chalusse's house- 
 keeper." 
 
136 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 In spite of his self-control, the doctor bounded from 
 his chair. " Madame Leon ? " he asked, in a tone of 
 intense surprise. 
 
 She bowed, compressing her thick lips. " I am known 
 by that name yes, monsieur. But it is only my 
 Christian name. The one I have a right to bear would 
 not accord with my present position. Reverses of for- 
 tune are not rare in these days ; and were it not for the 
 consoling influences of religion, one would not have 
 strength to endure them/' 
 
 The physician was greatly puzzled. " What can she 
 want of me ? " he thought. 
 
 Meanwhile, she had resumed speaking : " I was 
 much reduced in circumstances at the end of my re- 
 sources, indeed when M. de Chalusse a family friend 
 requested me to act as companion to a young girl 
 in whom he was interested Mademoiselle Marguerite. 
 I accepted the position; and I thank God every day 
 that I did so, for I feel a mother's affection for this 
 young girl, and she loves me as fondly as if she were 
 my own daughter." In support of her assertion, she 
 drew a handkerchief from her pocket, and succeeded in 
 forcing a few tears to her eyes. "Under these cir- 
 cumstances, doctor," she continued, "you cannot fail 
 to understand that the interests of my dearly beloved 
 Marguerite bring me to you. I was shut up in my 
 own room when M. de Chalusse was brought home, 
 and I did not hear of his illness until after your de- 
 parture. Perhaps you might say that I ought to have 
 waited until your next visit; but I had not sufficient 
 patience to do so. One cannot submit without a strug- 
 gle to the torture of suspense, when the future of a 
 beloved daughter is at stake. So here I am." She 
 paused to take breath, and then added, " I have come, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 137 
 
 monsieur, to ask you to tell me the exact truth respect- 
 ing the count's condition." 
 
 The doctor was expecting something very different, 
 but nevertheless he replied with all due gravity and 
 self-possession. " It is my painful duty to tell you, 
 madame, that there is scarcely any hope, and that I 
 expect a fatal termination within twenty-four hours, 
 unless the patient should regain consciousness/' 
 
 The housekeeper turned pale. "Then all is lost," 
 she faltered, " all is lost ! " And unable to articulate 
 another word she rose to her feet, bowed, and abruptly 
 left the room. 
 
 Before the grate, with his mouth half open, and his 
 right arm extended in an interrupted gesture, the doc- 
 tor stood speechless and disconcerted. It was only 
 when the outer door closed with a bang that he seemed 
 restored to consciousness. And as he heard the noise 
 he sprang forward as if to recall his visitor. " Ah ! " 
 he exclaimed, with an oath, " the miserable old woman 
 was mocking me ! " And urged on by a wild, irrational 
 impulse, he caught up his hat and darted out in pur- 
 suit. Madame Leon was considerably in advance of 
 him, and was walking very quickly; still, by quicken- 
 ing his pace, he might have overtaken her. However, 
 he did not join her, for he scarcely knew what excuse 
 to offer for such a strange proceeding; he contented 
 himself by cautiously following her at a little distance. 
 Suddenly she stopped short. It was in front of a 
 tobacconist's shop, where there was a post-office letter- 
 box. The shop was closed, but the box was there with 
 its little slit for letters to be dropped into it. Madame 
 Leon evidently hesitated. She paused, as one always 
 does before venturing upon a decisive act, from which 
 there will be no return, whatever may be the conse- 
 
138 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 quences. An observer never remains twenty minutes 
 before a letter-box without witnessing this pantomime 
 so expressive of irresolution. At last, however, she 
 shrugged her shoulders with a gesture which eloquently 
 expressed the result of her deliberations ; and drawing 
 a letter from her bosom, she dropped it into the box, 
 and then hastened on more quickly than before. 
 
 " There is not the slightest doubt/' thought the doc- 
 tor, " that letter had been prepared in advance, and 
 whether it should be sent or not depended on the an- 
 swer I gave/' 
 
 We have already said that M. Jodon was not a 
 wealthy man,, and yet he would willingly have given a 
 hundred-franc note to have known the contents of this 
 letter, or even the name of the person to whom it was 
 addressed. But his chase was almost ended. Madame 
 Leon had reached the Hotel de Chalusse, and now went 
 in. Should he follow her ? His curiosity was torturing 
 him to such a degree that he had an idea of doing so; 
 and it required an heroic effort of will to resist the 
 temptation successfully. But a gleam of common sense 
 warned him that this would be a terrible blunder. Once 
 already during the evening his conduct had attracted 
 attention; and he began to realize that there was a 
 better way of winning confidence than by intruding 
 almost forcibly into other people's affairs. Accordingly 
 he thoughtfully retraced his steps, feeling intensely 
 disgusted with himself. " What a fool I am ! " he 
 grumbled. " If I had kept the old woman in suspense, 
 instead of blurting out the truth, I might have learned 
 the real object of her visit; for she had an object. But 
 what was it ? " 
 
 The doctor spent the two hours that remained to him 
 before making his second visit in trying to discover it. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 139 
 
 But,, although nothing prevented him from exploring the 
 boundless fields of improbable possibilities, he could 
 think of nothing satisfactory. There was only one cer- 
 tain point, that Madame Leon and Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite were equally interested in the question as to 
 whether the count would regain consciousness or not. 
 As to their interests in the matter, the doctor felt confi- 
 dent that they were not identical; he was persuaded 
 that a secret enmity existed between them, and that the 
 housekeeper had visited him without Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite's knowledge. For he was not deceived by 
 Madame Leon, or by her pretended devotion to Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite. Her manner, her smooth words, 
 her tone of pious resignation, and the allusion to the 
 grand name she had the right to bear, were all calcu- 
 lated to impose upon one; but she had been too much 
 disconcerted toward the last to remember her part. 
 Dr. Jodon lacked the courage to return to his sumptu- 
 ous rooms, and it was in a little cafe that he thus 
 reflected upon the situation, while drinking some ex- 
 ecrable beer brewed in Paris out of a glass manufac- 
 tured in Bavaria. 
 
 At last midnight sounded the hour had come. Still 
 the doctor did not move. Having been obliged to wait 
 himself, he wished, in revenge, to make the others wait, 
 and it was not until the cafe closed that he again walked 
 up the Rue de Courcelles. Madame Leon had left the 
 gate ajar, and the doctor had no difficulty in making his 
 way into the courtyard. As in the earlier part of the 
 evening, the servants were assembled in the concierge's 
 lodge; but the careless gayety which shone upon their 
 faces a few hours before had given place to evident 
 anxiety respecting their future prospects. Through the 
 windows of the lodge they could be seen standing round 
 
140 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the two choice spirits of the household, M. Bourigeau, 
 the concierge, and M. Casimir, the valet, who were en- 
 gaged in earnest conversation. And if the doctor had 
 listened, he would have heard such words as " wages," 
 and " legacies/' and " remuneration for faithful ser- 
 vice," and " annuities " repeated over and over again. 
 
 But M. Jodon did not listen. Thinking he should 
 find some servant inside, he entered the house. How- 
 ever, there was nobody to announce his presence; the 
 door closed noiselessly behind him, the heavy carpet 
 which covered the marble steps stifled the sound of his 
 footsteps, and he ascended the first flight without seeing 
 any one. The door opening into the count's room was 
 open, the room itself being brilliantly lighted by a large 
 fire, and a lamp which stood on a corner of the mantel- 
 shelf. Instinctively the doctor paused and looked in. 
 There had been no change since his first visit. The 
 count w/as still lying motionless on his pillows ; his face 
 was swollen, his eyelids were closed, but he still 
 breathed, as was shown by the regular movement of 
 the covering over his chest. Madame Leon and Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite were his only attendants. The 
 housekeeper, who sat back a little in the shade, was 
 half reclining in an arm-chair with her hands clasped 
 in her lap, her lips firmly compressed, and her eyes 
 fixed upon vacancy. Pale but calm, and more imposing 
 and more beautiful than ever, Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 was kneeling beside the bed, eagerly watching for some 
 sign of renewed life and intelligence on the count's 
 face. 
 
 A little ashamed of his indiscretion, the doctor re- 
 treated seven or eight steps down the stairs, and then 
 ascended them again, coughing slightly, so as to an- 
 nounce his approach. This time he was heard, for 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 141 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite came to the door to meet 
 him. "Well?" he inquired. 
 
 " Alas ! " 
 
 He advanced toward the bed, but before he had time 
 to examine his patient Mademoiselle Marguerite hand- 
 ed him a scrap of paper. " The physician who usually 
 attends M. de Chalusse has been here in your absence, 
 monsieur," said she- " This is his prescription, and 
 we have already administered a few drops of the 
 potion." 
 
 M. Jodon, who was expecting this blow, bowed 
 coldly. 
 
 " I must add," continued Mademoiselle Marguerite, 
 " that the doctor approved of all that had been done ; 
 and I beg you will unite your skill with his in treating 
 the case." 
 
 Unfortunately all the medical skill of the faculty 
 would have availed nothing here. After another exam- 
 ination, Dr. Jodon declared that it would be necessary 
 to wait for the action of nature, but that he must be 
 dition. " And I will tell my servant to wake me at 
 informed of the slightest change in the sick man's con- 
 once if I am sent for," he added. 
 
 He was already leaving the room, when Madame 
 Leon barred his passage. " Isn't it true, doctor, that 
 one attentive person would suffice to watch over the 
 count ? " she asked. 
 
 " Most assuredly," he answered. 
 
 The housekeeper turned toward Mademoiselle Man 
 guerite. "Ah, you see, my dear young lady," she 
 said, " what did I tell you ? Listen to me ; take a little 
 rest. Watching is not suitable work for one of your 
 
 " It is useless to insist," interrupted the young girl, 
 
142 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 resolutely. " I shall remain here. I shall watch over 
 him myself." 
 
 The housekeeper made no reply ; but it seemed to the 
 doctor that the two women exchanged singular glances. 
 " The devil ! " he muttered, as he took his departure ; 
 " one might think that they distrusted each other ! " 
 
 Perhaps he was right; but at all events he had 
 scarcely left the house before Madame Leon again 
 urged her dear young lady to take a few hours' rest. 
 " What can you fear ? " she insisted, in her wheedling 
 voice. " Sha'n't I be here ? Do you suppose your 
 old Leon capable of losing herself in sleep, when your 
 future depends upon a word from that poor man lying 
 there?" 
 
 " Pray, cease." 
 
 " Ah, no ! my dear young lady ; my love for you 
 compels me " 
 
 " Oh, enough ! " interrupted Mademoiselle Margue- 
 rite ; " enough, Leon ! " 
 
 Her tone was so determined that the housekeeper 
 was compelled to yield; but not without a deep sigh, 
 not without an imploring glance to Heaven, as if call- 
 ing upon Providence to witness the purity of her mo- 
 tives and the usefulness of her praiseworthy efforts. 
 " At least, my dear lady, wrap yourself up warmly. 
 Shall I go and bring you your heavy travelling shawl ? " 
 
 " Thanks, my dear Leon Annette will bring it." 
 
 "Then, pray, send for it. But we are not going to 
 watch alone? What should we do if we needed any- 
 thing?" 
 
 " I will call," replied Marguerite. 
 
 This was unnecessary, for Dr. Jodon's departure 
 from the house had put an abrupt termination to the 
 servants' conference; and they were now assembled 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 143 
 
 on the landing, anxious and breathless, and peering 
 eagerly into the sick-room. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite went toward them. " Ma- 
 dame Leon and myself will remain with the count/' she 
 said. " Annette " this was the woman whom she liked 
 best of all the servants " Casimir and a footman will 
 spend the night in the little side salon. The others may 
 retire." 
 
 Her orders were obeyed. Two o'clock sounded from 
 the church-tower near by, and then the solemn and 
 terrible silence was only broken by the hard breathing 
 of the unconscious man and the implacable ticktack of 
 the clock on the mantel-shelf, numbering the seconds 
 which were left for him to live. From the streets out- 
 side, not a sound reached this princely abode, which 
 stood between a vast courtyard and a garden as large 
 as a park. Moreover, the straw which had been spread 
 over the paving-stones effectually deadened the rumble 
 of the few vehicles that passed. Enveloped in a soft, 
 warm shawl, Madame Leon had again taken possession 
 of her arm-chair, and while she pretended to be reading 
 a prayer-book, she kept a close watch over her dear 
 young lady, as if she were striving to discover her in- 
 most thoughts. Mademoiselle Marguerite did not sus- 
 pect this affectionate espionage. Besides, what would 
 it have mattered to her? She had rolled a low arm- 
 chair near the bedside, seated herself in it, and her eyes 
 were fixed upon M. de Chalusse. Two or three times 
 she started violently, and once even she said to Madame 
 Leon : " Come come and see ! " 
 
 It seemed to her that there was a faint change in the 
 patient's face; but it was only a fancy she nad been 
 deceived by the shadows that played about the room, 
 caused by the capricious flame in the grate. The hours 
 
144 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 were creeping on, and the housekeeper, wearying at last 
 of her fruitless watch, dropped asleep; her head fell 
 forward on to her breast, her prayer-book slipped from 
 her hands, and finally she began to snore. But Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite did not perceive this, absorbed as 
 she was in thoughts which, by reason of their very 
 profundity, had ceased to be sorrowful. Perhaps she 
 felt she was keeping a last vigil over her happiness, and 
 that with the final breath of this dying man all her 
 girlhood's dreams and all her dearest hopes would take 
 flight for evermore. Undoubtedly her thoughts flew to 
 the man to whom she had promised her life to Pascal, 
 to the unfortunate fellow whose honor was being stolen 
 from him at that very moment, in a fashionable gam- 
 ing-house. 
 
 About five o'clock the air became so close that she 
 felt a s'udden faintness, and opened the window to ob- 
 tain a breath of fresh air. The noise aroused Madame 
 Leon from her slumbers. She rose, yawned, and rather 
 sullenly declared that she felt very queer, and would 
 certainly fall ill if she did not take some refreshment. 
 It became necessary to summon M. Casimir, who 
 brought her a glass of Madeira and some biscuits. 
 " Now I feel better," she murmured, after her repast. 
 " My excessive sensibility will be the death o me." 
 And so saying, she dropped asleep again. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite had meanwhile returned to 
 her seat; but her thoughts gradually became confused, 
 her eyelids grew heavy, and although she struggled, she 
 at last fell asleep in her turn, with her head resting on 
 the count's bed. It was daylight when a strange and 
 terrible shock awoke her. It seemed to her as if an 
 icy hand, some dead person's hand, was gently stroking 
 her head, and tenderly caressing her hair. She at once 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 145 
 
 sprang to her feet. The sick man had regained con- 
 sciousness; his eyes were open and his right arm was 
 moving. Mademoiselle Marguerite darted to the bell- 
 rope and pulled it violently, and as a servant appeared 
 in answer to the summons, she cried : " Run for the 
 physician who lives near here quick! and tell him 
 that the count is conscious/' 
 
 In an instant, almost, the sick-room was full of ser- 
 vants, but the girl did not perceive it. She had ap- 
 proached M. de Chalusse, and taking his hand, she 
 tenderly asked : " You hear me, do you not, monsieur ? 
 Do you understand me ? " 
 
 His lips moved; but only a hollow, rattling sound, 
 which was absolutely unintelligible, came from his 
 throat. Still, he understood her; as it was easy to see 
 by his gestures despairing and painful ones, for paraly- 
 sis had not released its hold on its victim, and it was 
 only with great difficulty that he could slightly move 
 his right arm. He evidently desired something. But 
 what? 
 
 They mentioned the different articles in the room 
 everything indeed that they could think of. But in 
 vain, until the housekeeper suddenly exclaimed : " He 
 wishes to write." 
 
 That was, indeed, what he desired. With the hand 
 that was comparatively free, with the hoarse rattle that 
 was his only voice, M. de Chalusse answered, " Yes, 
 yes ! " and his eyes even turned to Madame Leon with 
 an expression of joy and gratitude. They raised him 
 on his pillows, and brought him a small writing-desk, 
 with some paper, and a pen that had been dipped in 
 ink. But like those around him, he had himself over- 
 estimated his strength; if he could move his hand, he 
 could not control its movements. After a terrible effort 
 
146 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and intense suffering, however, he succeeded in tracing 
 a few words, the meaning of which it was impossible 
 to understand. It was only with the greatest difficulty 
 that these words could be deciphered " My entire 
 fortune give friends against This signified 
 
 nothing. 
 
 In despair, he dropped the pen, and his glance and 
 his hand turned to that part of the room opposite his 
 bed. " Monsieur means his escritoire, perhaps ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," the sick man hoarsely answered. 
 
 " Perhaps the count wishes that it should be opened ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " was the reply again. 
 
 " My God ! " exclaimed Mademoiselle Marguerite, 
 with a gesture of despair ; " what have I done ? I have 
 broken the key. I feared the responsibility which would 
 fall upon us all." 
 
 The expression of the count's face had become abso- 
 lutely frightful. It indicated utter discouragement, the 
 most bitter suffering, the most horrible despair. His 
 soul was writhing in a body from which life had fled. 
 Intelligence, mind, and will were fast bound in a corpse 
 which they could not electrify. The consciousness of 
 his own powerlessness caused him a paroxysm of 
 frantic rage ; his hands clinched, the veins in his throat 
 swelled, his eyes almost started from their sockets, and 
 in a harsh, shrill voice that had nothing human in it, 
 he exclaimed : " Marguerite ! despoiled ! take care ! 
 your mother ! " And this was all it was the su- 
 preme effort that broke the last link that bound the soul 
 to earth. 
 
 " A priest ! " cried Madame Leon ! " A priest ! In 
 the name of Heaven, go for a priest ! " 
 
 " Rather for a notary," suggested M. Casimir. " You 
 see he wishes to make a will." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 14? 
 
 But at that moment the physician entered, pale and 
 breathless. He walked straight to the bedside, glanced 
 at the motionless form,, and solemnly exclaimed : "The 
 Count de Chalusse is dead ! " 
 
 There was a moment's stupor the stupor which al- 
 ways follows death, especially when death comes sud- 
 denly and unexpectedly. A feeling of mingled wonder, 
 selfishness, and fear pervaded the group of servants. 
 " Yes, it is over ! " muttered the doctor ; " it is all 
 over ! " 
 
 And as he was familiar with these painful scenes, 
 and had lost none of his self-possession, he furtively 
 studied Mademoiselle Marguerite's features and atti- 
 tude. She seemed thunderstruck. With dry, fixed eyes 
 and contracted features, she stood rooted to her place, 
 gazing at the lifeless form as if she were expecting 
 some miracle as if she still hoped to hear those rigid 
 lips reveal the secret which he had tried in vain to 
 disclose, and which he had carried with him to the 
 grave. 
 
 The physician was the only person who observed this. 
 The other occupants of the room were exchanging looks 
 of distress. Some of the women had fallen upon their 
 knees, and were sobbing and praying in the same 
 breath. But Madame Leon's sobs could be heard above 
 the rest. They were at first inarticulate moans, but 
 suddenly she sprang toward Mademoiselle Marguerite, 
 and clasping her in her arms, she cried : " What a mis- 
 fortune ! My dearest child, what a loss ! " Utterly 
 incapable of uttering a word, the poor girl tried to free 
 herself from this close embrace, but the housekeeper 
 would not be repulsed, and continued : " Weep, my dear 
 young lady, weep ! Do not refuse to give vent to your 
 
148 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 She herself displayed so little self-control that the 
 physician reprimanded her with considerable severity, 
 whereat her emotion increased, and with her handker- 
 chief pressed to her eyes, she sobbed : " Yes, doctor, 
 yes ; you are right ; I ought to moderate my grief. But 
 pray, doctor, remove my beloved Marguerite from this 
 scene, which is too terrible for her young and tender 
 heart. Persuade her to retire to her own room, so 
 that she may ask God for strength to bear the mis- 
 fortune which has befallen her." 
 
 The poor girl had certainly no intention of leaving 
 the room, but before she could say so, M. Casimir 
 stepped forward. " I think," he dryly observed, " that 
 mademoiselle had better remain here." 
 
 "Eh?" said Madame Leon, looking up suddenly. 
 " And why, if you please ? " 
 
 " Because because " 
 
 Anger had dried the housekeeper's tears. " What do 
 you mean ? " she asked. " Do you pretend to prevent 
 mademoiselle from doing as she chooses in her own 
 house ? " 
 
 ,1 M. Casimir gave vent to a contemptuous whistle, 
 which, twenty-four hours earlier, would have been pun- 
 ished with a heavy blow from the man who was now 
 lying there dead. " Her own house ! " he answered ; 
 "her own house! Yesterday I shouldn't have denied 
 it; but to-day it's quite another thing. Is she a rela- 
 tive? No, she isn't. What are you talking about, 
 then? We are all equals here." 
 
 He spoke so impudently that even the doctor felt 
 indignant. " Scoundrel ! " said he. 
 
 But the valet turned toward him with an air which 
 proved that he was well acquainted with the doctor's 
 servant, and, consequently, with all the secrets of the 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 149 
 
 master's life. " Call your own valet a scoundrel, if 
 you choose/' he retorted, "but not me. Your duties 
 here are over, aren't they ? So leave us to manage our 
 own affairs. Thank heaven, I know what I'm talking 
 about. Everybody knows that caution must be exer- 
 cised in a dead man's house, especially when that house 
 is full of money, and when, instead of relatives, there 
 are persons who who are there nobody knows how 
 or why. In case any valuables were missed, who would 
 be accused of taking them? Why, the poor servants, 
 of course. Ah, they have broad shoulders! Their 
 trunks would be searched; and even if nothing were 
 found, they would be sent to prison all the same. In 
 the meantime other people would escape with the booty. 
 No, Lisette ! No one will stir from this room until the 
 arrival of the justice " 
 
 Madame Leon was bursting with rage. " All right ! " 
 she interrupted ; " I'm going to send for the count's 
 particular friend, General " 
 
 " I don't care a fig for your general." 
 
 " Wretch ! " 
 
 It was Mademoiselle Marguerite who put an end to 
 this indecent dispute. Its increasing violence had 
 aroused her from her stupor. Casimir's impudence 
 brought a flush to her forehead, and stepping forward 
 with haughty resolution, she exclaimed : " You forget 
 that one never raises one's voice in the chamber of 
 death." Her words were so true, and her manner so 
 majestic, that M. Casimir was silenced. Then, pointing" 
 to the door, she coldly added : " Go for the justice of 
 the peace, and don't set foot here again, except in his 
 company." 
 
 He bowed, stammered an unintelligible apology, and 
 left the room. " She always gets the best of me," he 
 
150 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 growled, as he went downstairs. " But seals shall be 
 put on everything." 
 
 When he entered the porter's lodge, M. Bourigeau 
 was just getting up, having slept all night, while his 
 wife watched. "Quick," ordered M. Casimir; "make 
 haste and finish dressing, and run for the justice of 
 the peace we must have him here at once. Everything 
 must be done regularly and in order, upstairs." 
 
 The concierge was in despair. " Heavens ! " he ex- 
 claimed ; " so the master's dead ! What a misfortune ! " 
 
 " You may well say so ; and this is the second time 
 such a thing has happened to me. I remember now 
 what a shrewd fellow named Chupin once said to me. 
 ( If I were a servant,' he remarked, ' before entering a 
 man's service, I'd make him insure his life for my 
 benefit in one of those new-fangled companies, so that 
 I might step into a handsome fortune if he took it 
 into his head to die.' But make haste, Bourigeau." 
 
 " That's a famous idea, but scarcely practicable," 
 growled the concierge. 
 
 " I don't know whether it is or not. But at all 
 events I'm terribly annoyed. The count was giving 
 me enormous wages, and I had got him nicely into my 
 ways. Well, after all, I shall only have to begin again !" 
 
 M. Bourigeau had not yet attained to the heights 
 of such serene philosophy, and as he buttoned his over- 
 coat, he groaned : " Ah ! you're not situated as I am, 
 Casimir. You've only yourself to look out for. I 
 have my furniture; and if I don't succeed in finding a 
 position where I can have two rooms, I shall be obliged 
 to sell part of it. What a blessed nuisance ! " 
 
 As soon as he was dressed he started off on his mis- 
 sion; and M. Casimir, who dared not return to the 
 house, began walking slowly to and fro in front of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 151 
 
 the lodge. He had made some thirty turns or so, and 
 was beginning to feel impatient, when he saw Victor 
 Chupin approaching. " You are always on hand at the 
 right moment," remarked M. Casimir. " It's all over ! " 
 
 Chupin turned eagerly. " Then our bargain holds ?" 
 he exclaimed. " You understand what I mean the 
 funeral, you know." 
 
 " It isn't certain that I shall have anything to do with 
 it; but call again in three hours from now." 
 
 " All right, I'll be here." 
 
 "And M. Fortunat?" asked Casimir. 
 
 " He received what he called a ' violent shock ' last 
 evening, but he's better this morning. He instructed 
 me to tell you that he should look for you between 
 twelve and one you know where." 
 
 " I'll endeavor to be there, although it may be diffi- 
 cult for me to get away. If I go, however, I'll show 
 him the letter that caused the count's illness ; for the 
 count threw it away, after tearing it into several pieces, 
 and I found some of the bits which escaped his notice 
 as well as mademoiselle's. It's a strange letter, upon 
 my word ! " 
 
 Chupin gazed at the valet with a look of mingled 
 wonder and admiration. " By Jove ! " he exclaimed, 
 " how fortunate a man must be to secure a valet like 
 you ! " 
 
 His companion smiled complacently, but all of a sud- 
 den he remarked : " Make haste and go. I see Bouri- 
 geau in the distance, bringing the justice of the peace." 
 
152 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE magistrate who was now approaching the Cha- 
 lusse mansion in the concierge's company, exemplified 
 in a remarkable manner all the ideas that are awak- 
 ened in one's mind by the grand yet simple title of 
 "Justice of the Peace." He was the very person you 
 would like to think of as the family magistrate; as the 
 promoter of friendly feeling ; as the guardian of the 
 rights of the absent, the young, and the weak; as the 
 just arbiter in unfortunate differences between those 
 who are closely related; a sage of wide experience and 
 boundless benevolence; a judge whose paternal justice 
 dispenses with all pomp and display, and who is allowed 
 by French statutes to hold his court by his own fireside, 
 providing the doors stand open. He was considerably 
 over fifty, tall, and very thin, with bent shoulders. His 
 clothes were rather old-fashioned in cut, but by no 
 means ridiculous. The expression of his face was gen- 
 tleness itself; but it would not have done to presume 
 upon this gentleness, for his glance was keen and pierc- 
 ing like the glance of all who are expert in diving 
 into consciences, and discovering the secrets hidden 
 there. Moreover, like all men who are accustomed to 
 deliberate in public, his features were expressionless. 
 He could see and hear everything, suspect and under- 
 stand everything, without letting a muscle of his face 
 move. And yet the habitues of his audience-chamber, 
 and his clerks, pretended that they could always detect 
 the nature of his impressions. A ring which he wore 
 upon one of his fingers served as a barometer for those 
 who knew him. If a difficult case, or one that em- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 155 
 
 barrassed his conscience, presented itself, his eyes fixed 
 themselves obstinately upon this ring. If he were satis- 
 fied that everything was right, he looked up again, 
 and began playing with the ring, slipping it up and 
 down between the first and second joint of his finger; 
 but if he were displeased, he abruptly turned the bezel 
 inside. 
 
 In appearance, he was sufficiently imposing to intim- 
 idate even M. Casimir. The proud valet bowed low 
 as the magistrate approached, and with his heart in 
 his mouth, and in an obsequious voice he said : " It 
 was I who took the liberty of sending for you, mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the magistrate, who already knew as 
 much about the Hotel de Chalusse, and the events of 
 the past twelve hours, as M. Casimir himself; for on 
 his way to the house, he had turned Bourigeau inside 
 out like a glove, by means of a dozen gentle questions. 
 
 " If monsieur wishes I will explain," resumed M. 
 Casimir. 
 
 " Nothing ! It is quite unnecessary. Usher us in." 
 
 This "us" astonished the valet; but before they 
 reached the house it was explained to him. He dis- 
 covered a man of flourishing and even jovial mien who 
 was walking along in the magistrate's shadow carrying 
 a large black portfolio under his arm. This was evi- 
 dently the clerk. He seemed to be as pleased with his 
 employment as he was with himself; and as he fol- 
 lowed M. Casimir, he examined the adornments of the 
 mansion, the mosaics in the vestibule, the statuary and 
 the frescoed walls with an appraiser's eye- Perhaps he 
 was calculating how many years' salary it would require 
 to pay for the decorating of this one staircase. 
 
 On the threshold of the death room the magistrate 
 
154 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 paused. There had been some change during M. 
 Casimir's absence. The doctor had left. The bed had 
 been rearranged, and several candles were burning on 
 a table covered with a white cloth. Madame Leon had 
 gone to her own room, accompanied by two servants, 
 to fetch a vessel of holy water and a branch of withered 
 palm. She was now engaged in repeating the prayers 
 for the dead, pausing from time to time to dip the palm 
 branch in the holy water, and sprinkle the bed. Both 
 windows had been opened in spite of the cold. On the 
 marble hearth stood a chafing-dish full of embers from 
 which rose spiral rings of smoke, filling the room with 
 a pungent odor as a servant poured some vinegar and 
 sugar on to the coals. 
 
 As the magistrate appeared, every one rose up. Then, 
 after bestowing prolonged scrutiny upon the room and 
 its occupants, he respectfully removed his hat, and 
 walked in. "Why are so many people here?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " I suggested that they should remain," replied M. 
 Casimir, " because " 
 
 " You are suspicious," interrupted the magistrate. 
 
 His clerk had already drawn a pen and some paper 
 from his portfolio, and was engaged in reading the de- 
 cision, rendered by the magistrate at the request of one 
 Eourigeau, and in virtue of which, seals were about to 
 Tbe affixed to the deceased nobleman's personal effects. 
 Since the magistrate had entered the room, his eyes had 
 not once wandered from Mademoiselle Marguerite, who 
 was standing near the fireplace, looking pale but com- 
 posed. At last he approached her, and in a tone of 
 deep sympathy : " Are you Mademoiselle Marguerite ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 She raised her clear eyes, rendered more beautiful 
 
THE 1 COUNT'S MILLIONS ISS 
 
 than ever, by the tears that trembled on her lashes, and 
 in a faltering voice, replied : " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Are you a relative ? Are you connected in any way 
 with the Count de Chalusse? Have you any right to 
 his property?" 
 
 " No, monsieur/' 
 
 " Excuse me, mademoiselle,, but these questions are 
 indispensable. Who intrusted you to the care of M. 
 de Chalusse, and by what right? Was it your father 
 or your mother?" 
 
 " I have neither father nor mother, monsieur. I am 
 alone in the world utterly alone." 
 
 The magistrate glanced keenly round the room. "Ah ! 
 I understand," said he, at last ; " advantage has been 
 taken of your isolation to treat you with disrespect, to 
 insult you, perhaps." 
 
 Every head drooped, and M. Casimir bitterly re- 
 gretted that he had not remained below in the court- 
 yard. Mademoiselle Marguerite looked at the magis- 
 trate in astonishment, for she was amazed by his pene- 
 tration. She was ignorant of his conversation with 
 Bourigeau on the road, and did not know that through 
 the concierge's ridiculous statements and accusations, 
 the magistrate had succeeded in discovering at least a 
 portion of the truth. 
 
 " I shall have the honor of asking for a few mo- 
 ments' conversation with you-'presently, mademoiselle," 
 he said. " But first, one question. I am told that the 
 Count de Chalusse entertained a very lively affection 
 for you. Are you sure that he has not taken care to 
 provide for your future? Are you sure that he has 
 not left a will?" 
 
 The girl shook her head. " He made one in my 
 favor some time ago," she replied. " I saw it ; he 
 
156 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 gave it to me to read; but it was destroyed a fortnight 
 after my arrival here, and in compliance with my re- 
 quest." 
 
 Madame Leon had hitherto been dumb with fear, but, 
 conquering her weakness, she now decided to draw near 
 and take part in the conversation. " How can you say 
 that, my dear young lady?" she exclaimed. "You 
 know that the count God rest his soul ! was an ex- 
 tremely cautious man. I am certain that there is a will 
 somewhere." 
 
 The magistrate's eyes were fixed on his ring. "It 
 would be well to look, perhaps, before affixing the seals. 
 
 You have a right to require this ; so, if you wish " 
 
 s But she made no reply. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " insisted Madame Leon ; "pray look, 
 monsieur." 
 
 "But where should we be likely to find a will?" 
 
 " Certainly in this room in this escritoire, or in one 
 of the deceased count's cabinets." 
 
 The magistrate had learnt the story of the key from 
 Bourigeau, but all the same he asked: "Where is the 
 key to this escritoire ? " 
 
 " Alas ! monsieur," replied Mademoiselle Marguerite, 
 " I broke it last night when M. de Chalusse was brought 
 home unconscious. I hoped to avert what has, never- 
 theless, happened. Besides, I knew that his escritoire 
 contained something over two millions in gold and 
 bank-notes." 
 
 Two millions there! The occupants of the room 
 stood aghast. Even the clerk was so startled that he 
 let a blot fall upon his paper. Two millions! The 
 magistrate was evidently reflecting. " Hum ! " he mur- 
 mured, meditatively. Then, as if deciding on his course, 
 he exclaimed : 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 157 
 
 " Let a locksmith be sent for." 
 
 A servant went in search of one; and while they 
 were waiting for his return, the magistrate sat down 
 beside his clerk and talked to him in a low voice. At 
 last the locksmith appeared, with his bag of tools hang- 
 ing over his shoulder, and set to work at once. He 
 found his task a difficult one. His pick-locks would 
 not catch, and he was talking of filing the bolt, when, 
 by chance, he found the joint, and the door flew open. 
 But the escritoire was empty. There were only a few 
 papers, and a bottle about three-quarters full of a crim- 
 son liquid on the shelf. Had M. de Chalusse rose and 
 shook off his winding sheet, the consternation would 
 not have been greater. The same instinctive fear 
 thrilled the hearts of everybody present. An enormous 
 fortune had disappeared. The same suspicions would 
 rest upon them all. And each servant already saw 
 himself arrested, imprisoned, and dragged before a 
 law court. 
 
 However, anger speedily followed bewilderment, and 
 a furious clamor arose. " A robbery has been 
 committed ! " cried the servants, in concert. " Mad- 
 emoiselle had the key. It is wrong to suspect the in- 
 nocent ! " 
 
 Revolting as this exhibition was, it did not modify 
 the magistrate's calmness. He had witnessed too many 
 such scenes in the course of his career, and, at least, 
 a score of times he had been compelled to interpose 
 between children who had come to blows over their 
 inheritance before their father's body was even cold. 
 " Silence ! " he commanded sternly. And as the tumult 
 did not cease, as the servants continued to cry, "The 
 thief must be found. We shall have no difficulty in 
 discovering the culprit," the magistrate exclaimed, still 
 
158 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 more imperiously : " Another word, and you all leave 
 the room." 
 
 They were silenced ; but there was a mute eloquence 
 about their looks and gestures which it was impossible 
 to misunderstand. Every eye was fixed upon Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite with an almost ferocious expres- 
 sion. She knew it only too well; but, sublime in her 
 energy, she stood, with her head proudly erect, facing 
 the storm, and disdaining to answer these vile impu- 
 tations. However she had a protector near by the 
 magistrate in person. " If this treasure has been di- 
 verted from the inheritance," said he, "the thief will 
 be discovered and punished. But I wish to have one 
 point explained who said that Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite had the key of the escritoire ? " 
 
 " I did," replied a footman. " I was in the dining- 
 room yesterday morning when the count gave it to her." 
 
 " For what purpose did he give it to her ? " 
 
 " That she might obtain this vial I recognized it at 
 once. She brought it down to him/' 
 
 "Did she return the key?" 
 
 "Yes; she gave it to him when she handed him the 
 vial, and I saw him put it in his pocket." 
 
 The magistrate pointed to the bottle which was stand- 
 ing on the shelf. " Then the count himself must have 
 put the vial back in its place," said he. " Further 
 comment is unnecessary; for, if the money had then 
 "been missing, he could not have failed to discover the 
 fact." No one had any reply to make to this quiet 
 defence, which was, at the same time, a complete vin- 
 dication. " And, besides," continued the magistrate, 
 " who told you that this immense sum would be found 
 here ? Did you know it ? Which one of you knew it ? " 
 And as nobody still ventured any remark, he added 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 159 
 
 in an even more severe tone, and without seeming to 
 notice Mademoiselle Marguerite's look of gratitude, 
 " It is by no means a -proof of honesty to be so ex- 
 tremely suspicious. Would it not have been easier to 
 suppose that the deceased had placed the money some- 
 where else, and that it will yet be found ? " 
 
 The clerk had been even less disturbed than the mag- 
 istrate. He also was blase, having witnessed too many 
 of those frightful and shameless dramas which are 
 enacted at a dead man's bedside, to be surprised at 
 anything. If he had deigned to glance at the escri- 
 toire, it was only because he was curious to see how 
 small a space would suffice to contain two millions ; and 
 then he had begun, to calculate how many years he 
 would be obliged to remain a clerk before he could 
 succeed in amassing such a fabulous sum. However, 
 hearing his superior express the intention of continuing 
 the search for the will, and the missing treasure, he 
 abruptly abandoned his calculation, and exclaimed, 
 "Then, I suppose, I can commence my report, mon- 
 sieur ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the magistrate, " write as follows : " 
 And in a monotonous voice he began to dictate the 
 prescribed formula, an unnecessary proceeding, for the 
 clerk was quite as familiar with it as the magistrate 
 himself: "On the 16th of October, 186, at nine 
 o'clock in the morning, in compliance with the request 
 of the servants of the deceased Louis-Henri-Raymond 
 de Durtal, Count de Chalusse, and in the interest of his 
 presumptive heirs, and all others connected with him, 
 and in accordance with the requirements of clauses 819 
 (Code Napoleon) and 909 (Code of Procedure), we, 
 justice of the peace, accompanied by our clerk, visited 
 the residence of the deceased aforesaid, in the Rue 
 
160 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 de Courcelles, where, having entered a bedroom open- 
 ing on to the courtyard, and lighted by two windows 
 looking toward the south, we found the body of the 
 deceased aforesaid, lying on his bed, and covered with 
 
 a sheet. In this room were " He paused in his 
 
 dictation, and addressing the clerk, " Take down the 
 names of all present/' said he. "That will require 
 some little time, and, meanwhile, I will continue my 
 search." 
 
 They had, in fact, only examined the shelf of the 
 escritoire, and the drawers were still to be inspected. 
 In the first which he opened, the magistrate found am- 
 ple proofs of the accuracy of the information which 
 had been furnished him by Mademoiselle Marguerite. 
 The drawer contained a memorandum which estab- 
 lished the fact that the Credit Foncier had lent M. de 
 Chalusse the sum of eight hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs, which had been remitted to him on the Saturday 
 preceding his death. Beside this document lay a second 
 memorandum, signed by a stockbroker named Pell, 
 setting forth that the latter had sold for the count secu- 
 rities of various descriptions to the amount of fourteen 
 hundred and twenty-three thousand francs, which sum 
 had been paid to the count on the preceding Tuesday, 
 partly in bank-notes and partly in gold. It was thus 
 evident that M. de Chalusse had received a grand total 
 of two million two hundred and seventy-three thousand 
 francs within the past six days. 
 
 In the drawer which was next opened, the magis- 
 trate only found a number of deeds, bonds, leases, and 
 mortgages ; but they proved that public rumor, far from 
 exaggerating the figures of the count's fortune, had 
 diminished it, and this made it difficult to explain why 
 he had contracted a loan. The third and last drawer 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 161 
 
 contained twenty-eight thousand francs, in packages of 
 twenty-franc pieces- Finally, in a small casket, the 
 magistrate found a packet of letters, yellow with age 
 and bound together with a broad piece of blue velvet; 
 as well as three or four withered bouquets, and a 
 woman's glove, which had been worn by a hand of mar- 
 vellous smallness. These were evidently the relics of 
 some great passion of many years before; and the 
 magistrate looked at them for a moment with a sigh. 
 
 His own interest prevented him from noticing Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite's agitation. She had almost 
 fainted on perceiving these souvenirs of the count's past 
 life so suddenly exhumed. However, the examination 
 of the escritoire being over, and the clerk having com- 
 pleted his task of recording the names of all the ser- 
 vants, the magistrate said, in a loud voice, " I shall now 
 proceed to affix the seals ; but, before doing so, I shall 
 take a portion of the money found in this desk, and set 
 it apart for the expenses of the household, in accord- 
 ance with the law. Who will take charge of this 
 money ? " 
 
 " Oh, not I ! " exclaimed Madame Leon. 
 
 " I will take charge of it," said M. Casimir. 
 
 "Then here are eight thousand francs, for which 
 you will be held accountable." 
 
 M. Casimir being a prudent man, counted the money 
 himself, and after doing so, "Who will attend to the 
 count's obsequies ? " he inquired. 
 
 "You, and without loss of time." 
 
 Proud of his new importance, the valet hastily left 
 the room, his self-complacency increased by the 
 thought that he was to breakfast with M. Isidore For- 
 tunat, and would afterward share a fat commission with 
 Victor Chupin. 
 
162 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 However, the magistrate had already resumed his 
 dictation : " And at this moment we have affixed bands 
 of white tape, sealed at either end with red wax, bear- 
 Ing the impress of our seal as justice of the peace, to 
 wit: In the aforesaid chamber of the deceased: First, 
 A band of tape, covering the keyhole of the lock of 
 the escritoire, which had been previously opened by a 
 locksmith summoned by us, and closed again by the said 
 
 locksmith " And so the magistrate and his clerk 
 
 went from one piece of furniture to another, duly speci- 
 fying in the report each instance in which the seals 
 were affixed. 
 
 From the count's bedroom they passed into his study, 
 followed by Mademoiselle Marguerite, Madame Leon, 
 and the servants. By noon every article of furniture 
 in which M. de Chalusse would have been likely to 
 deposit his valuables or a will, had been searched, and 
 nothing, absolutely nothing, had been found. The mag- 
 istrate had pursued his investigation with the feverish 
 -energy which the most self-possessed of men are apt 
 to display under such circumstances, especially when 
 influenced by the conviction that the object they are 
 seeking is somewhere within their reach, perhaps under 
 their very hand. Indeed, he was persuaded he was 
 sure he would, in fact, have sworn that the Count de 
 Chalusse had taken all the precautions natural in child- 
 less men, who have no near relatives to inherit their 
 fortune, or who have placed their interest and affec- 
 tions beyond their family circle. And when he was 
 obliged to abandon his search, his gesture indicated 
 anger rather than discouragement; for apparent evi- 
 dence had not shaken his conviction in the least. So he 
 stood motionless, with his eyes riveted on his ring, as 
 if waiting some miraculous inspiration from it. " For 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 163 
 
 the count's only fault, I am sure, was in being too 
 cautious/' he muttered. " This is frequently the case, 
 and it would be quite in keeping with the character of 
 this man, judging from what I know of him." 
 
 Madame Leon lifted her hands to heaven. "Ah, 
 yes ! such was, indeed, his nature," she remarked, ap- 
 provingly. " Never, no never, have I seen such a sus- 
 picious and distrustful person as he was. Not in refer- 
 ence to money no, indeed for he left that lying about 
 everywhere; but about his papers. He locked them up 
 with the greatest care, as if he feared that some terrible 
 secret might evaporate from them. It was a mania 
 with him. If he had a letter to write, he barricaded his 
 door, as if he were about to commit some horrible 
 
 crime. More than once have I seen him " The 
 
 words died away on her lips, and she remained motion- 
 less and abashed, like a person who has just escaped 
 some great peril. One word more, and involuntarily, 
 without even knowing it, she would have confessed her 
 besetting sin, which was listening at, and peering 
 through, the keyholes of the doors that were closed 
 against her. Still, she deluded herself with the belief 
 that this slight indiscretion of her overready tongue 
 had escaped the magistrate's notice. 
 
 He certainly did not seem to be conscious of it, for 
 he was giving his attention entirely to Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite, who seemed to have regained the cold re- 
 serve and melancholy resignation habitual to her. " You 
 see, mademoiselle," he remarked, " that I have done all 
 that is in my power to do. We must now leave the 
 search to chance, and to the person who takes the in- 
 ventory. Who knows what surprise may be in store 
 for us in this immense house, of which we have only 
 explored three rooms ? " 
 
164 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 She shook her head gently and replied : " I can never 
 be sufficiently grateful for your kindness, monsieur, and 
 for the great service you rendered me in crushing that 
 infamous accusation. As regards the rest, I have 
 never expected anything I do not expect anything 
 now." 
 
 She believed what she said, and her tone of voice 
 proved this so unmistakably that the magistrate was 
 surprised and somewhat disturbed. " Come, come, my 
 young lady," he said, with almost paternal kindness of 
 manner, " you ought not to despond. Still, you must 
 have certain reasons for speaking as you do; and as I 
 am free for an hour, we are going to have a plain talk, 
 as if we were father and daughter." 
 
 On hearing these words, the clerk rose with a cloud 
 on his jovial face. He impatiently jingled his bunch 
 of keys; for as the seals are successively affixed, each 
 key is confided to the clerk, to remain in his hands until 
 the seals are removed. 
 
 " I understand," said the magistrate. " Your stom- 
 ach, which is more exacting in its demands than mine, 
 is not satisfied with a cup of chocolate till dinner-time. 
 So, go and get your lunch; on your return, you will 
 find me here. You may now conclude the report, and 
 request these parties to sign it." 
 
 Urged on by hunger, the clerk hastily mumbled over 
 the remainder of the formula, called all the names that 
 he had inserted in the report, and each of the servants 
 advanced in turn, signed his or her name, or made a 
 cross, and then retired. Madame Leon read in the 
 judge's face that she also was expected to withdraw; 
 and she was reluctantly leaving the room, when Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite detained her to ask: "Are you 
 quite sure that nothing has come for me to-day ? " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 165 
 
 ' Nothing, mademoiselle ; I went in person to inquire 
 of the concierge." 
 
 " Did you post my letter last night ? " 
 
 " Oh ! my dear young lady, can you doubt it ? " 
 
 The young girl stifled a sigh, and then, with a ges- 
 ture of dismissal, she remarked, " M. de Fondege must 
 be sent for/' 
 
 "The General?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I will send for him at once," replied the house- 
 keeper; and thereupon she left the room, closing the 
 door behind her with a vicious slam. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE justice of the peace and Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 were at last alone in M. de Chalusse's study. This 
 room, which the count had preferred above all others, 
 was a spacious, magnificent, but rather gloomy apart- 
 ment, with lofty walls and dark, richly carved furniture. 
 Its present aspect was more than ever solemn and lugu- 
 brious, for it gave one a chill to see the bands of white 
 tape affixed to the locks of the cabinets and bookcases. 
 When the magistrate had installed himself in the 
 count's arm-chair, and the girl had taken a seat near 
 him, they remained looking at each other in silence for 
 a few moments. The magistrate was asking himself 
 how he should begin. Having fathomed Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite's extreme sensitiveness and reserve, he said 
 to himself that if he offended or alarmed her, she would 
 refuse him her confidence, in which case he would be 
 powerless to serve her as he wished to do. He had, 
 in fact, an almost passionate desire to be of service 
 to her, feeling himself drawn toward her by an inex- 
 
166 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 plicable feeling of sympathy, in which esteem, respect, 
 and admiration alike were blended, though he had only 
 known her for a few hours. Still, he must make a 
 beginning. " Mademoiselle," he said, at last, " I ab- 
 stained from questioning you before the servants and 
 if I take the liberty of doing so now, it is not, believe 
 me, out of any idle curiosity; moreover, you are not 
 compelled to answer me. But you are young and I 
 am an old man; and it is my duty even if my heart 
 did not urge me to do so to offer you the aid of my 
 experience " 
 
 " Speak, monsieur," interrupted Marguerite. " I will 
 answer your questions frankly, or else not answer them 
 at all." 
 
 " To resume, then," said he, " I am told that M. de 
 Chalusse has no relatives, near or remote. Is this the 
 truth?" 
 
 " So far as I know yes, monsieur. Still, I have 
 heard it said that a sister of his, Mademoiselle Hermine 
 de Chalusse, abandoned her home twenty-five or thirty 
 years ago, when she was about my age, and that she 
 has never received her share of the enormous fortune 
 left by her parents." 
 
 " And has this sister never given any sign of life ? " 
 
 " Never ! Still, monsieur, I have promised you to be 
 perfectly frank. That letter which the Count de Cha- 
 lusse received yesterday, that letter which I regard as 
 the cause of his death well, I have a presentiment that 
 it came from his sister. It could only have been written 
 by her or by that other person whose letters and 
 souvenirs you found in the escritoire." 
 
 "And this other person who can she be?" As 
 the young girl made no reply, the magistrate did not in- 
 sist, but continued : " And you, my child, who are you ?" 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 167 
 
 She made a gesture of sorrowful resignation, and 
 then, in a voice faltering with emotion., she answered : 
 " I do not know, monsieur. Perhaps I am the count's 
 daughter. I should be telling an untruth if I said that 
 was not my belief. Yes, I believe it, but I have never 
 been certain of it. Sometimes I have believed, some- 
 times I have doubted it. On certain days I have said 
 to myself, e Yes, it must be so ! ' and I have longed to 
 throw my arms around his neck. But at other times I 
 have exclaimed : ' No, it isn't possible ! ' and I have 
 almost hated him. Besides, he never said a word on 
 the subject never a decisive word, at least. When I 
 saw him for the first time, six years ago, I judged by 
 the manner in which he forbade me to call him 
 ' father,' that he would never answer any question I 
 might ask on the subject." 
 
 If there was a man in the world inaccessible to idle 
 curiosity, it was certainly this magistrate, whose pro- 
 fession condemned him to listen every day to family 
 grievances, neighborly quarrels, complaints, accusations, 
 and slander. And yet as he listened to Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite, he experienced that strange disquietude 
 which seizes hold of a person when a puzzling problem 
 is presented. " Allow me to believe that many decisive 
 proofs may have escaped your notice on account of your 
 inexperience," he said. 
 
 But interrupting him with a gesture, she sadly re- 
 marked : " You are mistaken ; I am not inexperienced." 
 
 He could not help smiling at what he considered her 
 self-conceit. " Poor child ! " said he ; " how old are 
 you ? Eighteen ? " 
 
 She shook her head. " Yes, by my certificate of birth 
 I am only eighteen; but by the sufferings I have en- 
 dured I am, perhaps, older than you are, monsieur, 
 
168 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 despite your white hair. Those who have lived such a 
 life as I have, are never young; they are old in suffer- 
 ing, even in their childhood. And if by^xperience you 
 mean lack of confidence,, a knowledge of good and 
 evil, distrust of everything and everybody, mine, young 
 girl though I be, will no doubt equal yours/' She 
 paused, hesitated for a moment, and then continued: 
 " But why should I wait for you to question me ? It 
 is neither sincere nor dignified on my part to do so. 
 The person who claims counsel owes absolute frank- 
 ness to his adviser. I will speak to you as if I wer<* 
 communing with my own soul. I will tell you what no 
 person has ever known no one, not even Pascal. And 
 believe me, my past life was full of bitter misery, al- 
 though you find me here in this splendid house. But 
 I have nothing to conceal ; and if I have cause to blush, 
 it is for others, not for myself." 
 
 Perhaps she was impelled by an irresistible desire to 
 relieve her overburdened heart, after long years of self- 
 restraint; perhaps she no longer felt sure of herself, 
 and desired some other advice than the dictates of her 
 conscience, in presence of the calamity which had be- 
 fallen her. At all events, too much engrossed in her 
 own thoughts to heed the magistrate's surprise, or hear 
 the words he faltered, she rose from her seat, and, with 
 her hands pressed tightly on her throbbing brow, she 
 began to tell the story of her life. 
 
 " My first recollections," she said, " are of a narrow, 
 cheerless courtyard, surrounded by grim and massive 
 walls, so high that I could scarcely see the top of 
 them. At noontime in summer the sun visited one little 
 corner, where there was a stone bench; but in winter 
 it never showed itself at all. There were five or six 
 small, scrubby trees, with moss-grown trunks and feeble 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 169 
 
 branches, which put forth a few yellow leaves at 
 springtime. We were some thirty children who as- 
 sembled in this courtyard children from five to eight 
 years old, all clad alike in brown dresses, with a little 
 blue handkerchief tied about our shoulders. We all 
 wore blue caps on week-days, and white ones on Sun- 
 days, with woollen stockings, thick shoes, and a black 
 ribbon, with a large metal cross dangling from our 
 necks. Among us moved the good sisters, silent and 
 sad, with their hands crossed in their large sleeves, 
 their faces as white as their snowy caps, and their 
 long strings of beads, set off with numerous copper 
 medals, clanking when they walked like prisoners' 
 chains. As a rule, each face wore the same expression 
 of resignation, unvarying gentleness, and inexhaustible 
 patience. But there were some who wore it only as 
 one wears a mask some whose eyes gleamed at times 
 with passion, and who vented their cold, bitter anger 
 upon us defenceless children. However, there was one 
 sister, still young and very fair, whose manner was so 
 gentle and so sad that even I, with my mere infantile 
 intelligence, felt that she must have some terrible sor- 
 row. During play-time she often took me on her knee 
 and embraced me with convulsive tenderness, murmur- 
 ing : ' Dear little one ! darling little one ! ' Sometimes 
 her endearments were irksome to me, but I never al- 
 lowed her to see it, for fear of making her still more 
 sad ; and in my heart I was content and proud to suffer 
 for and with her. Poor sister! I owe her the only 
 happy hours of my infancy. She was called Sister 
 Calliste. I do not know what has become of her, but 
 often, when my heart fails me, I think of her, and even 
 now I cannot mention her name without tears." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was indeed weeping big 
 
170 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 tears which she made no attempt to conceal were cours- 
 ing down her cheeks. It cost her a great effort to con- 
 tinue : " You have already understood, monsieur, what 
 I myself did not know for several years. I was in a 
 foundling asylum, and I was a foundling myself. I 
 cannot say that we lacked anything; and I should be 
 ungrateful if I did not say and feel that these good 
 sisters were charity personified. But, alas ! their hearts 
 had only a certain amount of tenderness to distribute 
 between thirty poor little girls, and so each child's por- 
 tion was small; the caresses were the same for all, and 
 I longed to be loved differently, to have kind words and 
 caresses for myself alone. We slept in little white beds 
 with snowy curtains, in a clean, well-ventilated dormi- 
 tory, in the centre of which stood a statue of the Vir- 
 gin, who seemed to smile on us all alike. In winter 
 we had a fire. Our clothes were warm and neat; our 
 food was excellent. We were taught to read and write, 
 to sew and embroider. There was a recreation hour 
 between all the exercises. Those who were studious 
 and good were rewarded; and twice a week we were 
 taken into the country for a long walk. It was during 
 one of these excursions that I learned from the talk 
 of the passers-by, what we were, and what we were 
 called. Sometimes,, in the afternoon, we were visited 
 by elegantly-attired ladies, who were accompanied by 
 their own children, radiant with health and happiness. 
 The good sisters told us that these were ' pious ladies,' 
 or ' charitable ladies/ whom we must love and respect, 
 and whom we must never forget to mention in our 
 prayers. They always brought us toys and cakes. 
 Sometimes the establishment was visited by priests and 
 grave old gentlemen, whose sternness of manner 
 alarmed us. They peered into every nook and corner, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 171 
 
 asked questions about everything, assured themselves 
 that everything was in its place, and some of them 
 even tasted our soup. They were always satisfied ; and 
 the lady superior led them through the building, and 
 bowed to them, exclaiming : c We love them so much, 
 the poor little dears ! ' And the gentlemen replied : 
 ' Yes, yes, my dear sister, they are very fortunate.' 
 And the gentlemen were right. Poor laborers' chil- 
 dren are often obliged to endure privations which we 
 knew nothing of; they are often obliged to make their 
 supper off a piece of dry bread but, then, the crust is 
 given them by their mother, with a kiss." 
 
 The magistrate, who was extremely ill at ease, had 
 not yet succeeded in finding a syllable to offer in reply. 
 Indeed, Mademoiselle Marguerite had not given him an 
 opportunity to speak, so rapidly had this long-repressed 
 flood of recollections poured from her lips. When she 
 spoke the word "mother," the magistrate fancied she 
 would show some sign of emotion. 
 
 But he was mistaken. On the contrary, her voice 
 became harsher, and a flash of anger, as it were, darted 
 from her eyes. 
 
 " I suffered exceedingly in that asylum," she re- 
 sumed. " Sister Calliste left the establishment, and all 
 the surroundings chilled and repelled me. My only few 
 hours of happiness were on Sundays, when we attended 
 church. As the great organ pealed, and as I watched 
 the priests officiating at the altar in their gorgeous 
 vestments, I forgot my own sorrows. It seemed to me 
 that I was ascending on the clouds of incense to the 
 celestial sphere which the sisters so often talked to us 
 about, and where they said each little girl would find 
 her mother." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite hesitated for an instant, as 
 
172 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 if she were somewhat unwilling to give utterance to her 
 thoughts; but at last, forcing herself to continue, she 
 said : " Yes, I suffered exceedingly in that foundling 
 asylum. Almost all my little companions were spiteful, 
 unattractive in person, sallow, thin, and afflicted with 
 all kinds of diseases, as if they were not unfortunate 
 enough in being abandoned by their parents. And to 
 my shame, monsieur, I must confess it these unfor- 
 tunate little beings inspired me with unconquerable re- 
 pugnance, with disgust bordering on aversion. I would 
 rather have pressed my lips to a red-hot iron than to 
 the forehead of one of these children. I did not reason 
 on the subject, alas ! I was only eight or nine years 
 old ; but I felt this antipathy in every fibre of my being. 
 The others knew it too; and, in revenge, they ironi- 
 cally styled me ' the lady,' and left me severely alone. 
 But sometimes, during playtime, when the good sisters' 
 backs were turned, the children attacked me, beat me, 
 and scratched my face and tore my clothes. I endured 
 these onslaughts uncomplainingly, for I was conscious 
 that I deserved them. But how many reprimands my 
 torn clothes cost me ! How many times I received only 
 a dry crust for my supper, after being soundly scolded 
 and called ' little careless.' But as I was quiet, studi- 
 ous, and industrious, a quicker learner than the ma- 
 jority of my companions, the sisters were fond of me. 
 They said that I was a promising girl, and that they 
 would have no difficulty in finding me a nice home 
 with some of the rich and pious ladies who have a 
 share in managing institutions of this kind. The only 
 fault the sisters found with me was that I was sullen. 
 But such was not really the case; I was only sad and 
 resigned. Everything around me so depressed and 
 saddened me that I withdrew into myself, and buried 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 173 
 
 all my thoughts and aspirations deep in my heart. If 
 I had naturally been a bad child, I scarcely know what 
 would have been the result of this. I have often asked 
 myself the question in all sincerity, but I have been 
 unable to reply, for one cannot be an impartial judge 
 respecting one's self. However, this much is certain, 
 although childhood generally leaves a train of pleasant 
 recollections in a young girl's life, mine was only 
 fraught with torture and misery, desperate struggles, 
 and humiliation. I was unwilling to be confirmed be- 
 cause I did not wish to wear a certain dress which a 
 ' benevolent lady ' had presented for the use of the 
 asylum, and which had belonged to a little girl of my 
 own age who had died of consumption. The thought 
 of arraying myself in this dress to approach the holy 
 table frightened and revolted me as much as if I had 
 been sentenced to drape myself in a winding-sheet. And 
 yet it was the prettiest dress of all white muslin beau- 
 tifully embroidered. It had been ardently coveted by 
 the other children, and had been given to me as a sort 
 of reward of merit. And I dared not explain the cause 
 of my unconquerable repugnance. Who would have 
 understood me? I should only have been accused of 
 undue sensitiveness and pride, absurd in one of my 
 humble position. I was then only twelve years old; 
 but no one knew the struggle in my mind save the old 
 priest, my confessor. I could confess everything to 
 him ; he understood me, and did not reproach me. Still 
 he answered : ' You must wear this dress, my 
 child, for your pride must be broken. Go I shall 
 impose no other penance on you.' I obeyed him, 
 full of superstitious terror; for it seemed to me 
 that this was a frightful omen which would bring 
 me misfortune, my whole life through. And I 
 
174 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 was confirmed in the dead girl's embroidered 
 dress." 
 
 During the five-and-twenty years that he had held 
 the position of justice of the peace, the magistrate had 
 listened to many confessions, wrung from wretched 
 souls by stern necessity, or sorrow, but never had his 
 heart been moved as it now was, by this narrative, told 
 with such uncomplaining anguish, and in a tone of 
 such sincerity. However she resumed her story. "The 
 confirmation over, our life became as gloomily monot- 
 onous as before ; we read the same pious books and did 
 the same work at the same hours as formerly. It 
 seemed to me that I was stifling in this atmosphere. I 
 gasped for breath, and thought that anything would be 
 preferable to this semblance of existence, which was 
 not real life. I was thinking of applying for the ' good 
 situation/ which had so often been mentioned to me, 
 when one morning I was summoned into the steward's 
 office a mysterious and frightful place to us children. 
 He himself was a stout, dirty man, wearing large blue 
 spectacles and a black silk skullcap; and from morn- 
 ing until night, summer and winter, he sat writing at a 
 desk behind a little grating, hung with green curtains. 
 Round the room were ranged the registers, in which 
 our names were recorded and our appearances de- 
 scribed, together with the boxes containing the articles 
 found upon us, which were carefully preserved to assist 
 in identifying us should occasion arise. I entered this 
 office with a throbbing heart. In addition to the stout 
 gentleman and the Lady Superior, I found there a 
 thin, wiry man, with cunning eyes, and a portly woman, 
 with a coarse but rather good-natured face. The su- 
 perior at once informed me that I was in the presence 
 of M. and Madame Greloux, bookbinders, who had 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 175 
 
 come to the asylum in search of two apprentices, and 
 she asked me if I should like to be one of them. Ah ! 
 monsieur, it seemed to me that heaven had opened be- 
 fore me and I boldly replied : ' Yes.' The gentleman in 
 the black skullcap immediately emerged from his place 
 behind the grating to explain my obligations and duties 
 to me at length, especially insisting upon the point, that 
 I ought to be grateful I, a miserable foundling, reared 
 by public charity for the generosity which this good 
 gentleman and lady showed in offering to take charge 
 of me and employ me in their workshop. I must con- 
 fess that I could not clearly realize in what this great 
 generosity which he so highly praised consisted, nor did 
 I perceive any reason why I should be particularly 
 grateful. Still, to all the conditions imposed upon me, 
 I answered, ' Yes, yes, yes ! ' so heartily that Madame 
 Greloux seemed greatly pleased. ' It is evident that 
 the child will be glad to get away/ she said to herself. 
 Then the superior began to enumerate the obligations 
 my employers would incur, repeating again and again 
 that I was one of the very best girls in the asylum 
 pious, obedient, and industrious, reading and writing 
 to perfection, and knowing how to sew and embroider 
 as only those who are taught in such institutions can. 
 She made Madame Greloux promise to watch over me 
 as she would have watched over her own daughter; 
 never to leave me alone; to take me to church, and 
 allow me an occasional Sunday afternoon, so that I 
 might pay a visit to the asylum. The gentleman with 
 the spectacles and the skullcap then reminded the book- 
 binder of the duties of an employer toward his appren- 
 tices, and turning to a bookcase behind him, he even 
 took down a large volume from which he read extract 
 after extract, which I listened to without understand- 
 
176 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 ing a word, though I was quite sure that the book was 
 written in French. At last, when the man and his wife 
 had said < Amen ' to everything, the gentleman with 
 the spectacles drew up a document which we all signed 
 in turn. I belonged to a master ? " 
 
 She paused. Here her childhood ended. But almost 
 immediately she resumed : " My recollections of these 
 people are not altogether unpleasant. They were 
 harassed and wearied by their efforts to support their 
 son in a style of living far above their position; but, 
 despite their sacrifices, their son had no affection for 
 them, and on this account I pitied them. However, not 
 only was the husband gloomy and quick-tempered, but 
 his wife also was subject to fits of passion, so that 
 the apprentices often had a hard time of it. Still, be- 
 tween Madame Greloux's tempests of wrath there were 
 occasional gleams of sunshine. After beating us for 
 nothing, she would exclaim, with quite as little reason, 
 ( Come and kiss me, and don't pout any more. Here 
 are four sous; go and buy yourself some cakes/ ?; 
 
 The justice started in his arm-chair. Was it, indeed, 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite who was speaking, the proud 
 young girl with a queenlike bearing, whose voice rang 
 out like crystal? Was it she indeed, who imitated the 
 harsh, coarse dialect of the lower classes with such 
 accuracy of intonation? Ah! at that moment, as her 
 past life rose so vividly before her, it seemed to her as 
 if she were still in the years gone by, and she fancied 
 she could still hear the voice of the bookbinder's wife. 
 
 She did not even notice the magistrate's astonish- 
 ment. "I had left the asylum," she continued, "and 
 that was everything to me. I felt that a new and dif- 
 ferent life was beginning, and that was enough. I 
 flattered myself that I might win a more earnest and 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 177 
 
 sincere affection among these honest, industrious toilers, 
 than I had found in the asylum; and to win it and 
 deserve it, I neglected nothing that good-will could sug- 
 gest., or strength allow. My patrons no doubt fathomed 
 my desire, and naturally enough, perhaps unconsciously, 
 they took advantage of my wish to please. I can 
 scarcely blame them. I had entered their home under 
 certain conditions in view of learning a profession; 
 they gradually made me their servant it was praise- 
 worthy economy on their part. What I had at first 
 done of my own freewill and from a wish to please, 
 at last became my daily task, which I was rigidly re- 
 quired to fulfil. Compelled to rise long before any one 
 else in the house, I was expected to have everything 
 in order by the time the others made their appearance 
 with their eyes still heavy with sleep. It is true that 
 my benefactors rewarded me after their fashion. On 
 Sundays they took me with them on their excursions 
 into the country, so as to give me a rest, they said, after 
 the week's work. And I followed them along the dusty 
 highways in the hot sunshine, panting, perspiring, and 
 tottering under the weight of a heavy basket of pro- 
 visions, which were eaten on the grass or in the woods, 
 and the remnants of which fell to me. Madame Gre- 
 loux's brother generally accompanied us ; and his name 
 would have lingered in my memory, even if it had not 
 been a peculiar one. He was called Vantrasson. He 
 was a tall, robust man, with eyes that made me tremble 
 whenever he fixed them upon me. He was a soldier; 
 intensely proud of his uniform; a great talker, and 
 enchanted with himself. He evidently thought himself 
 irresistible. It was from that man's mouth that I heard 
 the first coarse word at which my unsophisticated heart 
 took offence. It was not to be the last one. He finally 
 
178 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 told me that he had taken a fancy to me, and I was 
 obliged to complain to Madame Greloux of her brother's 
 persecutions. But she only laughed at me, and said : 
 ' Nonsense ! He's merely talking to hear himself talk.' 
 Yes, that was her answer. And yet she was an honest 
 woman, a devoted wife, and a fond mother. Ah ! if she 
 had had a daughter. But with a poor apprentice, who 
 has neither father nor mother, one need not be over- 
 fastidious. She had made a great many promises to the 
 lady superior, but she fancied that the utterance of a few 
 commonplace words of warning relieved her of all 
 further obligations. ' And so much the worse for those 
 who allow themselves to be fooled,' she always added 
 in conclusion. 
 
 " Fortunately, my pride, which I had so often been 
 reproached with, shielded me. My condition might be 
 humble, but my spirit was lofty. It was a blessing 
 from God, this pride of mine, for it saved me from 
 temptation, while so many fell around me. I slept, 
 with the other apprentices, in the attic, where we were 
 entirely beyond the control of those who should have 
 been our guardians. That is to say, when the day's toil 
 was over, and the work-shop closed, we were free 
 abandoned to our own instincts, and the most pernicious 
 influences. And neither evil advice nor bad example 
 was wanting. The women employed in the bindery in 
 nowise restrained themselves in our presence, and we 
 heard them tell marvellous stories that dazzled many a 
 poor girl. They did not talk as they did from any evil 
 design, or out of a spirit of calculation, but from pure 
 thoughtlessness, and because they were quite devoid of 
 moral sense. And they never tired of telling us of 
 the pleasures of life, of fine dinners at restaurants, gay 
 excursions to Joinville-le-Pont, and masked balls at 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 179 
 
 Montparnasse or the Elysee Montmartre. Ah ! experi- 
 ence is quickly gained in these work-shops. Sometimes 
 those who went off at night with ragged dresses and 
 worn-out shoes, returned the next morning in superb 
 toilettes to say that they resigned their situations, as 
 they were not made for work, and intended to live like 
 ladies. They departed radiant, but often before a 
 month was ove"r they came back, emaciated, hollow- 
 eyed, and despairing, and humbly begged for a little 
 work." 
 
 She paused, so crushed by the weight of these sad 
 memories as to lose consciousness of the present. And 
 the judge also remained silent, not daring to question 
 her. And, besides, what good would it do? What 
 could she tell him about these poor little apprentices 
 that he did not know already? If he was surprised at 
 anything, it was that this beautiful young girl, who had 
 been left alone and defenceless, had possessed sufficient 
 strength of character to escape the horrible dangers 
 that threatened her. 
 
 However, it was not long before Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite shook off the torpor which had stolen over her. 
 " I ought not to boast of my strength, sir," she re- 
 sumed. " Besides my pride, I had a hope to sustain 
 me a hope which I clung to with the tenacity of de- 
 spair. I wished to become expert at my profession, 
 for I had learned that skilled workers were always in 
 demand, and could always command good wages. So 
 when my household duties were over, I still found time 
 to learn the business, and made such rapid progress 
 that I astonished even my employer. I knew that I 
 should soon be able to make five or six francs a day; 
 and this prospect was pleasant enough to make me for- 
 get the present, well-nigh intolerable as it sometimes 
 
180 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 was. During the last winter that I spent with my em- 
 ployers, their orders were so numerous and pressing 
 that they worked on Sundays as well as on week days, 
 and it was with difficulty that I obtained an hour twice 
 a month to pay a visit to the good sisters who had 
 cared for me in my childhood. I had never failed in 
 this duty, and indeed it had now become my only 
 pleasure. My employer's conscience compelled him to 
 pay me a trifle occasionally for the additional toil he 
 imposed upon me, and the few francs I thus received 
 I carried to the poor children at the asylum. After liv- 
 ing all my life on public charity, I was able to give 
 in my turn; and this thought gratified my pride, and 
 increased my importance in my own eyes. I was 
 nearly fifteen, and my term of apprenticeship had al- 
 most expired, when one bright day in March, I saw 
 one of the lay sisters of the asylum enter the work- 
 room. She was in a flutter of excitement; her face 
 was crimson, and she was so breathless from her hur- 
 ried ascent of the stairs that she gasped rather than 
 said to me : ' Quick ! come follow me ! Some one is 
 waiting for you ! ' ' Who ? where ? ' ' Make haste ! 
 
 Ah ! my dear child, if you only knew ' I hesitated ; 
 
 but Madame Greloux pushed me toward the door, ex- 
 claiming : ' Be off, you little stupid ! ' I followed the 
 sister without thinking of changing my dress without 
 even removing the kitchen apron I wore. Downstairs, 
 at the front door, stood the most magnificent carriage 
 I had ever seen in my life. Its rich silk cushions were 
 so beautiful that I scarcely dared to enter it ; and I was 
 all the more intimidated by a footman in gorgeous 
 livery, who respectfully opened the door at our ap- 
 proach. 'You must get into the carriage,' said the 
 sister; ' it was sent for you.' I obeyed her, and before 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 181 
 
 I had recovered from my astonishment we had reached 
 the asylum, and I was ushered into the office where 
 the contract which bound me as an apprentice had been 
 signed. As soon as I entered, the superior took me 
 by the hand and led me toward a gentleman who was 
 sitting near the window. ' Marguerite/ said she, ' salute 
 Monsieur le Comte de Chalusse." ; 
 
 IX. 
 
 FOR some little time there had been a noise of footsteps 
 and a subdued murmur of voices in the vestibule. An- 
 noyed by this interruption, although he perfectly under- 
 stood its cause, the magistrate rose and hastily openec 
 the door. He was not mistaken. His clerk had re- 
 turned from lunch, and the time of waiting seemed 
 extremely long to him. " Ah ! it's you," said the magis- 
 trate. " Very well ! begin your inventory. It won't 
 be long before I join you." And closing the door he 
 resumed his seat again. Mademoiselle Marguerite was 
 so absorbed in her narrative that she scarcely noticed 
 this incident, and he had not seated himself before she 
 resumed. " In all my life, I had never seen such an 
 imposing looking person as the Count de Chalusse. 
 His manner, attire, and features could not fail to in- 
 spire a child like me with fear and respect. I was so 
 awed that I had scarcely enough presence of mind to 
 bow to him. He glanced at me coldly, and exclaimed : 
 ' Ah ! is this the young girl you were speaking of ? y 
 The count's tone betrayed such disagreeable surprise 
 that the superior was dismayed. She looked at me, 
 and seemed indignant at my more than modest attire. 
 ( It's a shame to allow a child to leave home dressed in 
 this fashion,' she angrily exclaimed. And she almost 
 
182 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 tore my huge apron off me, and then with her own 
 hands began to arrange my hair as if to display me to 
 better advantage. 'Ah! these employers/ she ex- 
 claimed, 'the best of them are bad. How they do 
 deceive you. It's impossible to place any confidence in 
 their promises. Still, one can't always be at their 
 heels/ 
 
 " But the superior's efforts were wasted, for M. de 
 Chalusse had turned away and had begun talking with 
 some gentlemen near by. For the office was full that 
 morning. Five or six gentlemen, whom I recognized 
 as the directors of the asylum, were standing round the 
 steward in the black skullcap. They were evidently 
 talking about me. I was certain of this by the glances 
 they gave me, glances which, however, were full of 
 kindness. The superior joined the group and began 
 speaking with unusual vivacity, while standing in the 
 recess of a window, I listened with all my might. But 
 I must have overestimated my intelligence, for I could 
 gain no meaning whatever from the phrases which fol- 
 lowed each other in rapid succession ; though the words 
 ' adoption/ ' emancipation/ ' dowry,' ' compensation/ 
 ' reimbursement for sums expended/ recurred again 
 and again. I was only certain of one point : the Count 
 de Chalusse wished something, and these gentlemen 
 were specifying other things in exchange. To each of 
 their demands he answered: 'Yes, yes it's granted. 
 That's understood.' But at last he began to grow 
 impatient, and in a voice which impressed one with the 
 idea that he was accustomed to command, he exclaimed, 
 ' I will do whatever you wish. Do you desire anything 
 more ? 9 The gentlemen at once became silent, and the 
 superior hastily declared that M. de Chalusse was a 
 thousand times too good, but that one could expect no 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 183 
 
 less of him, the last representative of one of the great- 
 est and oldest families of France. 
 
 " I cannot describe the surprise and indignation that 
 were raging in my soul. I divined I felt that it was 
 my fate, my future, my life that were being decided, 
 and I was not even consulted on the matter. They 
 were disposing of me as if they were sure in advance 
 of my consent. My pride revolted at the thought, but 
 I could not find a word to say in protest. Crimson with 
 shame., confused and furious, I was wondering how I 
 could interfere, when suddenly the consultation ceased 
 and the gentlemen at once surrounded me. One of 
 them, a little old man with a vapid smile and twinkling 
 eyes, tapped me on the cheek, and said : ' So she is as 
 /good as she is pretty!' I could have struck him; but 
 all the others laughed approvingly, with the exception 
 of M. de Chalusse, whose manner became more and 
 more frigid, and whose lips wore a constrained smile, 
 as if he had resolved to keep his temper despite all 
 provocation. It seemed to me that he was suffering 
 terribly, and I afterward learned that I had not been 
 mistaken. Far from imitating the old gentleman's 
 manner, he bowed to me very gravely, with an air of 
 deference that quite abashed me, and went away after 
 saying that he would return the next day to conclude 
 the arrangements. 
 
 " I was at last left alone with the superior, whom I 
 longed to question, but she gave me no time to do so, 
 for with extreme volubility she began to tell me of my 
 surprising good fortune, which was an unanswerable 
 and conclusive proof of the kindness and protection of 
 Providence. ' The count,' she said, ' was to become 
 my guardian. He would certainly give me a dowry; 
 and by and by, if I were grateful to him for his good- 
 
184 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 ness, he would adopt me, a poor, fatherless and mother- 
 less girl, and I should bear the great name of Durtal 
 de Chalusse, and inherit an immense fortune/ In con- 
 clusion, she said that there was no limit to the count's 
 generosity, that he had consented to reimburse the 
 asylum the money that had been spent on me, that he 
 <had offered to dower, I do not know how many poor 
 girls, and that he had promised to build a chapel for 
 the use of the establishment. This was all true, in- 
 credible as it might seem. That very morning, M. de 
 Chalusse had called at the asylum, declared that he 
 was old and childless, a bachelor without any near 
 relatives, and that he wished to adopt a poor orphan. 
 They had given him a list of all the children in the 
 institution, and he had chosen me. ' A mere chance, 
 my dear Marguerite/ repeated the superior. e A mere 
 chance or rather a true miracle.' It did, indeed, seem 
 a miracle, but I was more surprised than elated. I 
 longed to be alone, so as to deliberate and reflect, for 
 I knew that I was free to accept or decline this dazzling 
 offer. 
 
 "I timidly asked permission to return to my em- 
 ployers to inform them of what had happened and con- 
 sult with them; but my request was refused. The 
 superior told me that I must deliberate and decide 
 alone ; and that when once my decision was taken, there 
 could be no change. So I remained at the asylum, and 
 dined at the superior's table; and during the night I 
 occupied the room of a sister who was absent. What 
 surprised me most of all was the deference with which 
 I was treated. The sisters all seemed to consider me 
 a person of great importance. And yet I hesitated. 
 
 " My indecision may seem absurd and hypocritical ; 
 but it was really sincere. My present situation was 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 185 
 
 certainly by no means an enviable one. But the worst 
 was over; my term as an apprentice had nearly ex- 
 pired, and my future seemed assured. My future! 
 What could it be with the Count de Chalusse? It was 
 painted in such brilliant colors that it frightened me. 
 Why had the count chosen me in preference to any of 
 the other girls? Was it really chance which had de- 
 cided him in his choice? On reflecting, the miracle 
 seemed to me to have been prepared in advance, and I 
 fancied that it must conceal some mystery. More than 
 this, the thought of yielding myself up to a stranger 
 terrified me. Forty-eight hours had been granted me 
 to consider my decision, and till the very last instant I 
 remained in doubt. Who knows? Perhaps it would 
 have been better for me if I had returned to my humble 
 life. At all events, I should have been spared a great 
 deal of sorrow and humiliation. But I lacked the cour- 
 age; and when the time expired, I consented to the 
 new arrangement. 
 
 " Should I live a thousand years I shall never forget 
 the day I left the foundling asylum to become the Count 
 de Chalusse's ward. It was a Saturday, and I had 
 given my answer to the superior on the evening before. 
 The next morning I received a visit from my former 
 employers, who, having been informed of the great 
 change in my prospects, had come to bid me good-bye. 
 The cancelling of my apprenticeship had at first caused 
 some trouble, but eventually the count's gold silenced 
 their objections. Still, they were sorry to part with 
 me, as I plainly saw. Their eyes were moist with 
 tears. They were sorry to lose the poor little servant 
 who had served them so faithfully. At the same time, 
 however, I noticed evident constraint in their manner. 
 They no longer said ' thee ' and ' thou ' to me ; they 
 
186 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 no longer spoke roughly; but they said 'you/ and ad- 
 dressed me as ' mademoiselle/ Poor people! they 
 awkwardly apologized for having ventured to accept 
 my services, declaring in the same breath that they 
 should never be able to replace me at the same price. 
 Madame Greloux, moreover, declared that she should 
 never forgive herself for not having sharply reproved 
 her brother for his abominable conduct. He was a 
 good-for-nothing fellow, she said, as was proved by 
 the fact that he had dared to raise his eyes to me. 
 For the first time in my life, I felt that I was sincerely 
 loved; and I was so deeply touched that if my decision 
 had not been written and signed, I should certainly 
 have returned to live with these worthy people. But 
 it was too late. A sister came to tell me that the 
 superior wished to see me. I bade Father and Mother 
 Greloux farewell and went downstairs. 
 
 e< In the superior's room, a lady and two shop-girls, 
 laden with boxes and parcels, were waiting for me. It 
 was a dressmaker who had come with some clothes 
 suited to my new station in life. I was told that she 
 had been sent by the Count de Chalusse. This great 
 nobleman thought of everything; and, although he had 
 thirty servants to do his bidding, he never disdained to 
 occupy himself with the pettiest details. So, for the 
 first time,, I was arrayed in rustling silk and clinging 
 cashmere. My toilette was no trifling affair. All the 
 good sisters clustered round me, and tried to beautify 
 me with the same care and patience as they would have 
 displayed in adorning the Virgin's statue for a fete-day. 
 A secret instinct warned me that they were overdoing 
 the matter, and that they were making me look ridicu- 
 lous; but I did not mind. I allowed them to please 
 themselves. I could still feel Madame Greloux's tears 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 187 
 
 on my hand, and the scene seemed to me as lugubrious 
 as the last toilette of a prisoner under sentence of 
 death. When they had completed their task, I heard a 
 buzz of admiration round me. If the sisters were 
 worthy of belief, they had never seen such a wonder- 
 ful transformation. Those who were in the class-rooms 
 or the sewing-room, were summoned to view and ad- 
 mire me, and some of the elder children were also 
 admitted. Perhaps I was intended as an example for 
 the latter, for I heard the lady superior say to them, 
 'You see, my dear children, the result of good be- 
 havior. Be diligent and dutiful, like our dear Mar- 
 guerite, and God will reward you as He has rewarded 
 her.' And, meantime, miserable in my finery, I waited 
 waited for M. de Chalusse, who was coming to take 
 me away. 
 
 " At the appointed hour he appeared, with the same 
 air of haughty reserve, that had so awed me on the 
 occasion of our first meeting. He scarcely deigned to 
 look at me, and although I watched him with poignant 
 anxiety, I could read neither blame nor approval on 
 his face. ' You see that your wishes have been scrupu- 
 lously obeyed, Monsieur le Comte,' said the superior. 
 e I thank you/ he replied ; * and I shall prove the ex- 
 tent of my gratitude to the poor children under your 
 charge.' Then, turning to me: 'Marguerite,' he said, 
 'take leave of your mothers, and tell them that you 
 will never forget their kindness.' * 
 
 The girl paused, for her emotion had rendered her 
 words almost unintelligible. But, with an effort, she 
 speedily conquered her weakness. 
 
 " It was only then," she continued, " that I realized 
 how much I loved these poor nuns, whom I had some- 
 times almost cursed. I felt now how close the ties 
 
188 <,, THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 were, that bound me to this hospitable roof, and to 
 these unfortunate children, my companions in misery 
 and loneliness. It seemed to me as if my heart were 
 breaking; and the superior, who was generally so im- 
 passible, appeared scarcely less moved than myself. At 
 last, M. de Chalusse took me by the hand and led me 
 away. In the street there was a carriage waiting for 
 us, not such a beautiful one as that which had been 
 sent to fetch me from my workshop, but a much 
 larger one, with trunks and boxes piled on its roof. 
 It was drawn by four gray horses. I felt more dead 
 than alive, as I entered the carriage and took the seat 
 which the count pointed out. He sat down opposite 
 to me. All the sisters had assembled at the door of 
 the asylum, and even the superior wept without making 
 any attempt to hide her tears. ' Farewell ! ' they all 
 cried ; ' farewell, farewell, dear child ! Don't forget 
 your old friends. We shall pray for your happiness.' 
 Alas! God could not have heard their prayers. At a 
 sign from M. de Chalusse, a footman closed the door, 
 the postilions cracked their whips, and the heavy 
 vehicle rolled away. 
 
 "The die was cast. Henceforth, an impassable gulf 
 was to separate me from this asylum, whither I had 
 been carried in my infancy half dead, and wrapped in 
 swaddling clothes, from which every mark that could 
 possibly lead to identification had been carefully cut 
 away. Whatever my future might prove, I felt that 
 my past was gone forever. But I was too greatly 
 agitated even to think; and crouching in a corner of 
 the carriage, I watched M. de Chalusse with the poig- 
 nant anxiety a slave displays as he studies his new 
 master. Ah! monsieur, what a wondrous change! A 
 mask seemed to have fallen from the count's face; his 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 189 
 
 lips quivered, a tender light beamed in his eyes, and 
 he drew me to him, exclaiming : ' Oh, Marguerite ! my 
 beloved Marguerite ! At last at last ! ' He sobbed 
 this old man, whom I had thought as cold and as in- 
 sensible as marble; he crushed me in his close embrace, 
 he almost smothered me with kisses. And I was 
 frightfully agitated by the strange, indefinable feeling, 
 kindled in my heart; but I no longer trembled with 
 fear. An inward voice whispered that this was but the 
 renewal of a former tie one which had somehow been 
 mysteriously broken. However, as I remembered the 
 superior's assertion that it was a miracle in my favor 
 a wonderful interposition of Providence, I had cour- 
 age enough to ask : ( So it was not chance that guided 
 you in your choice ? ' 
 
 " My question seemed to take him by surprise. ' Poor 
 Marguerite ! ' he murmured, ' dearly beloved child ! for 
 years I have been laboring to bring about this chance ! ' 
 Instantly all the romantic stories I had heard in the 
 asylum recurred to my mind. And Heaven knows 
 there are plenty of these stories transmitted by the 
 sisters from generation to generation, till they have 
 become a sort of Golden Legend for poor foundlings. 
 That sad formula, ' Father and mother unknown/ 
 which figures on certificates of birth, acts as a danger- 
 ous stimulant for unhealthy imaginations, and leaves 
 an open door for the most extravagant hopes. And 
 thus influenced, I fixed my eyes on the face of the 
 Count de Chalusse, striving to discover some resem- 
 blance in his features to my own. But he did not 
 seem to notice my intent gaze, and following his train 
 of thought, he muttered : ' Chance ! It was necessary 
 that they should think so, and they did think so. And 
 yet the cleverest detectives in Paris, from old Tabaret 
 
190 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 to Fortunat, both masters in the art of following up a 
 clue, had exhausted their resources in helping me in 
 my despairing search.' The agony of suspense I was 
 enduring had become intolerable; and unable to re- 
 strain myself longer, I exclaimed, with a wildly throb- 
 bing heart: 'Then, you are my father, Monsieur le 
 Comte?' He pressed his hand to my lips with such 
 violence that he hurt me, and then, in a voice quiver- 
 ing with excitement, he replied : ' Imprudent girl ! 
 What can you mean? Forget that unfortunate idea. 
 Never utter the name of father you hear me never ! 
 I forbid it ! ' He had become extremely pale, and he 
 looked anxiously around him, as if he feared that 
 some one had overheard me as if he had forgotten 
 that we were alone in a carriage which was dashing 
 onward at full speed! 
 
 " I was stupefied and alarmed by the sudden terror 
 which M. de Chalusse had displayed and could not 
 control. What could it all mean? What sorrowful 
 recollections, what mysterious apprehensions, had my 
 words aroused in the count's mind ? I could not under- 
 stand or imagine why he should regard my question as 
 strange or unnatural. On the contrary, I thought it 
 perfectly natural, dictated as it had been by circum- 
 stances, and by the count's own words and manner. 
 And, in spite of my confusion and agitation, the in- 
 explicable voice which we call presentiment whispered 
 in my heart : ' He has forbidden you to call him father, 
 but he has not said that he is not your father/ How- 
 ever, I had not time to reflect or to question M. de 
 Chalusse any more, though at that moment I should 
 have had the courage to do so; afterward I did not 
 dare. 
 
 " Our carriage had drawn up outside the railway 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 191 
 
 station, and the next instant we alighted. Then, for 
 the first time, I learned the magical power of money, 
 I, a poor girl reared by public charity and who for 
 three years had worked for my daily bread. M. de 
 Chalusse found the servants, who were to accompany 
 us, awaiting him. They had thought of everything, and 
 made every possible arrangement for our comfort. I 
 had scarcely time to glance round me before we were 
 on the platform in front of a train, which was ready 
 to start. I perceived the very carriage that had brought 
 us to the station already fastened on a low open truck, 
 and I was advancing to climb into it, when M. de 
 Chalusse stopped me. ' Not there/ said he, ' come with 
 me.' I followed him, and he led me to a magnificent 
 saloon carriage, much higher and roomier than the 
 others, and emblazoned with the Chalusse coat-of-arms. 
 'This is our carriage, dear Marguerite/ he said. I 
 got in. The whistle sounded ; and the train started off." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was growing very tired. 
 Big drops of perspiration stood out on her forehead, 
 she panted for breath, and her voice began to fail her. 
 
 The magistrate was almost frightened. " Pray rest 
 a little, mademoiselle," he entreated, "there is no hurry." 
 
 But she shook her head and replied: "It is better 
 to go on. I should never have courage to begin again 
 if I paused." And thereupon she continued : "I had never 
 gone farther than Versailles. This journey was at first 
 as delightful as a glimpse into fairy-land. Our carriage 
 was one of those costly whims which some millionaires 
 indulge in. It consisted of a central saloon a perfect 
 chef-d'oeuvre of taste and luxury with two compart- 
 ments at either end, furnished with comfortable sleep- 
 ing accommodation. And all this, the count seemed 
 never weary of repeating, was mine mine alone. 
 
192 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 Leaning back on the velvet cushions, I gazed at the 
 changing landscape, as the train rushed madly on. 
 Leaning over me, M. de Chalusse named all the towns 
 and villages we passed : Brunoy, Melun, Fontainebleau, 
 Villeneuve, Sens, Laroche. And each time the train 
 stopped the servants came to ask if we wished for any- 
 thing. When we reached Lyons, in the middle of the 
 night, we found a delicious supper awaiting us. It 
 was served as soon as we alighted, and in due time we 
 were warned that the train was ready to start, and then 
 we resumed our journey. You can imagine, perhaps, 
 how marvellous all this seemed to a poor little appren- 
 tice, whose only ambition a week before was to earn 
 five francs a day. What a change indeed ! At last the 
 count made me retire to one of the compartments, 
 where I soon fell asleep, abandoning my efforts to dis- 
 tinguish what was dreamlike in my situation from 
 reality. However, when I woke up I became terribly 
 anxious. I asked myself what was awaiting me at the 
 end of this long journey. M. de Chalusse's manner 
 continued kind, and even affectionate; but he had re- 
 gained his accustomed reserve and self-control, and I 
 realized that it would be useless on my part to question 
 him. At last, after a thirty hours' journey by rail, we 
 again entered the count's berline, drawn by post-horses, 
 and eventually M. de Chalusse said to me: 'Here is 
 Cannes we are at our journey's end.' 
 
 " In this town, which is one of the most charming 
 that overlook the blue waters of the Mediterranean, the 
 count owned a palace embowered among lovely orange- 
 trees, only a few steps from the sea, and in full view 
 of the myrtle and laurel groves which deck the isles of 
 Sainte Marguerite. He told me that he proposed 
 spending a few months here in seclusion, so as to give 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 193 
 
 me time to accustom myself to my new position and 
 the luxury that surrounded me. I was, indeed, ex- 
 tremely awkward, and my excessive timidity was in- 
 creased by my pride. I did not know what to say, or 
 what to do. I did not know how to use my hands, nor 
 how to walk, nor how to carry myself. Everything em- 
 barrassed and frightened me; and I was conscious of 
 my awkwardness, without being able to remedy it. I 
 saw my blunders, and knew that I spoke a different 
 language to that which was spoken around me. And 
 yet the memory of Cannes will ever be dear to me. 
 For there I first met the only friend I have now left 
 in this world. I did not exchange a word with him, 
 but by the quickened throbbings of my heart, when 
 our eyes met, I felt that he would exert a powerful 
 influence over my life, and events have since proved 
 that I was not deceived. At that time, however, he 
 was a stranger to me ; and nothing on earth would have 
 induced me to make inquiries concerning him. It was 
 only by chance I learned that he lived in Paris, that 
 his name was Pascal, and that he had come south as 
 a companion to a sick friend. 
 
 " By a single word the count could have insured the 
 happiness of my life and his own, but he did not 
 speak it. He was the kindest and most indulgent of 
 guardians, and I was often affected to tears by his 
 tenderness. But, although my slightest wish was law, 
 he did not grant me his confidence. The secret the 
 mystery that stood between us was like a wall of 
 ice. Still, I was gradually becoming accustomed to my 
 new life, and my mind was regaining its equilibrium, 
 when one evening the count returned home more agi- 
 tated and excited, if possible, than on the day of my 
 departure from the asylum. He summoned his valet, 
 
194 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and, in a tone that admitted no reply, he exclaimed, ' I 
 wish to leave Cannes at once I must start in less than 
 an hour so procure some post-horses instantly/ And 
 in answer to my inquiring glance, he said : ' It must be. 
 It would be folly to hesitate. Each moment increases 
 the peril that threatens us/ 
 
 " I was very young, inexperienced, and totally ignor- 
 ant of life; but my sufferings, my loneliness, and the 
 prospect of being compelled to rely upon myself, had 
 imparted to my mind that precocious maturity which is 
 so often observed among the children of the poor. 
 Knowing from the very first that there was some mys- 
 tery connected with the count's life, I had studied him 
 with a child's patient sagacity a sagacity which is all 
 the more dangerous, as it is unsuspected and I had 
 come to the conclusion that a constant dread rendered 
 his life a burden. Could it be for himself that he 
 trembled, this great nobleman, who was so powerful 
 by reason of his exalted rank, his connections, and his 
 wealth? Certainly not. Was it for me, then? Un- 
 doubtedly it was. But why? It had not taken me 
 long to discover that he was concealing me, or, at 
 least, that he endeavored by all means in his power to 
 prevent my presence in his house from being known 
 beyond a very limited circle of friends. Our hurried 
 departure from Cannes confirmed me in my impres- 
 sion. 
 
 " It might have been truly called a flight. We left 
 that same evening at eleven o'clock, in a pouring rain, 
 with the first horses that could be procured. Our only 
 attendant was the count's valet not Casimir, the man 
 who insulted me a little while ago but another man, 
 an old and valued servant, who has since died, unfor- 
 tunately, and who possessed his master's entire confi- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 195 
 
 dence. The other servants were dismissed with a 
 princely gratuity, and told to disperse two days after 
 our departure. We did not return to Paris, but jour- 
 neyed toward the Italian frontier, and on arriving at 
 Nice in the dead of night, we drove directly to the 
 quay. The postilions unharnessed the horses, and we 
 remained in the carriage. The valet, however, hast- 
 ened off, and more than two hours elapsed before he 
 returned. He declared that he had found it very 
 difficult to procure what he wished for, but that at last, 
 by a prodigal outlay of money, he had succeeded in 
 overcoming all obstacles. What M. de Chalusse de- 
 sired was a vessel ready for sea, and the bark which 
 the valet had chartered now came up to the quay. Our 
 carriage was put on board, we went below, and before 
 daybreak we were under way. 
 
 " Three days later we were in Genoa, registered 
 under a false name in a second class hotel. While we 
 were on the open sea, the count had seemed to be less 
 agitated, but now he was far from calm, and the pre- 
 cautions he took proved that he still feared pursuit. 
 A malefactor flying from justice could not have taken 
 greater pains to mislead the detectives on his track. 
 And facts proved conclusively that I was the sole cause 
 of the count's apprehension. On one occasion I even 
 heard him discussing with his valet the feasibility of 
 clothing me in masculine attire. And it was only the 
 difficulty of obtaining a suitable costume that prevented 
 him from carrying this project into execution. I ought 
 to mention, however, that the servant did not share 
 his master's anxiety, for three or four times I over- 
 heard him saying: 'The count is too good to worry 
 himself so much about such bad stock. Besides, she 
 won't overtake us. It isn't certain that she has even 
 
196 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 followed us. How can she know anything about it?' 
 She ! Who was she ? This is what I racked my brain 
 to discover, but without success. I must confess, mon- 
 sieur, that being of a practical nature, and not in the 
 least degree romantic, I arrived at the conclusion that 
 the peril chiefly existed in the count's imagination, or 
 that he greatly exaggerated it. Still he suffered none 
 the less on that account, as was shown by the fact that 
 the following month was spent in hurried journeys 
 from one Italian city to another. 
 
 " It was the end of May before M. de Chalusse 
 would consent to return to France; and then we went 
 direct to Lyons. We had spent a couple of days there, 
 when the count informed me that prudence required us 
 to separate for a time that our safety demanded this 
 sacrifice. And without giving me time to say a word, 
 he began to explain the advantages that would accrue 
 from such an arrangement. I was extremely ignorant, 
 and he wished me to profit by our temporary separation 
 to raise my knowledge to a level with my new social 
 position. He had, accordingly, made arrangements for 
 me to enter the convent of Sainte-Marthe, an educa- 
 tional establishment which is as celebrated in the de- 
 partment of the Rhone as the Convent des Oiseaux is 
 in Paris. He added that it would not be prudent for 
 him to visit me; and he made me solemnly promise 
 that I would never mention his name to any of my 
 schoolmates. I was to send any letters I might write 
 to an address which he would give me, and he would 
 sign his answers with a fictitious name. He also told 
 me that the lady superior of Sainte-Marthe knew his 
 secret, and that I could confide in her. He was so rest- 
 less and so miserably unhappy on the day when he 
 acquainted me with these plans, that I really believed 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 197 
 
 him insane. Nevertheless, I replied that I would obey 
 him, and to tell the truth, I was not ill pleased at the 
 thought of the change. My life with M. de Chalusse 
 was a monotonous and cheerless one. I was almost 
 dying of ennui, for I had been accustomed to work, 
 bustle, and confusion with the Greloux, and I felt de- 
 lighted at the prospect of finding myself among com- 
 panions of my own age. 
 
 " Unfortunately, M. de Chalusse had forgotten one 
 circumstance, which made my two years' sojourn at 
 Sainte-Marthe a lingering and cruel agony. At first I 
 was kindly treated by my schoolmates. A new pupil is 
 always welcome, for her arrival relieves the monotony 
 of convent-life. But it was not long before my com- 
 panions wished to know my name; and I had none 
 other than Marguerite to give them. They were aston- 
 ished and wished to know who my parents were. I 
 could not tell an untruth ; and I was obliged to confess 
 that I knew nothing at all respecting my father or my 
 mother. After that ( the bastard ' for such was the 
 name they gave me was soon condemned to isolation. 
 No one would associate with me during play-time. No 
 one would sit beside me in the school-room. At the 
 piano lesson, the girl who played after me pretended to 
 wipe the keyboard carefully before commencing her ex- 
 ercises. I struggled bravely against this unjust ostra- 
 cism ; but all in vain. I was so unlike these other girls 
 in character and disposition, and I had, moreover, been 
 guilty of a great imprudence. I had been silly enough 
 to show my companions the costly jewels which M. de 
 Chalusse had given me, but which I never wore. And 
 on two occasions I had proved to them that I had more 
 money at my disposal than all the other pupils together. 
 If I had been poor, they would, perhaps, have treated 
 
198 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 me with affected sympathy ; but as I was rich, I became 
 an enemy. It was war; and one of those merciless 
 wars which sometimes rage so furiously in convents, 
 despite their seeming quiet. 
 
 " I should surprise you, monsieur, if I told you what 
 refined torture these daughters of noblemen invented 
 to gratify their petty spite. I might have complained 
 to the superior, but I scorned to do so. I buried my 
 sorrow deep in my heart, as I had done years before; 
 and I firmly resolved never to show ought but a smil- 
 ing, placid face, so as to prove to my enemies that they 
 were powerless to disturb my peace of mind. Study 
 became my refuge and consolation; and I plunged into 
 work with the energy of despair. I should probably 
 still live at Sainte-Marthe now, had it not been for a 
 trivial circumstance. One day I had a quarrel with my 
 most determined enemy, a girl named Anais de Roche- 
 cote. I was a thousand times right; and I would not 
 yield. The superior dared not tell me I was wrong. 
 Anais was furious, and wrote I don't know what false- 
 hoods to her mother. Madame de Rochecote thereupon 
 interested the mothers of five or six other pupils in 
 her daughter's quarrel, and one evening these ladies 
 came in a body, and nobly and courageously demanded 
 that the ' bastard 9 should be expelled. It was impossi- 
 ble, outrageous, monstrous, they declared, that their 
 daughters should be compelled to associate with a girl 
 like me a nameless girl, who humiliated the other 
 girls with her ill-gotten wealth. The superior tried to 
 take my part ; but these ladies declared they would take 
 their daughters from the convent if I were not sent 
 away. There was no help for it: I was sacrificed. 
 Summoned by telegraph, M. de Chalusse hastened 
 to Lyons, and two days later I left Sainte-Marthe 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 199 
 
 with jeers and opprobrious epithets ringing in my 
 ears." 
 
 X. 
 
 ONCE before, that very morning, the magistrate had 
 witnessed a display of the virile energy with which 
 misfortune and suffering had endowed this proud but 
 naturally timid girl. But he was none the less sur- 
 prised at the sudden explosion of hatred which he now 
 beheld; for it was hatred. The way in which Mad- 
 emoiselle Marguerite's voice had quivered as she pro- 
 nounced the name of Ana'is de Rochecote proved, 
 unmistakably, that hers was one of those haughty 
 natures that never forget an insult. All signs of 
 fatigue had now disappeared. She had sprung from 
 her chair, and remembrance of the shameful, cowardly 
 affront she had received had brought a vivid flush to 
 her cheeks and a bright gleam to her eyes. 
 
 " This atrocious humiliation happened scarcely a 
 year ago, monsieur," she resumed ; " and there is but 
 little left for me to tell you. My expulsion from 
 Sainte-Marthe made M. de Chalusse frantic with indig- 
 nation. He knew something that I was ignorant of 
 that Madame de Rochecote, who enacted the part of a 
 severe and implacable censor, was famed for the laxity 
 of her morals. The count's first impulse was to wreak 
 vengeance on my persecutors ; for, in spite of his usual 
 coolness, M. de Chalusse had a furious temper at times. 
 It was only with the greatest difficulty that I dissuaded 
 him from challenging General de Rochecote, who was 
 living at the time. However, it now became necessary 
 to make some other arrangements for me. M. de Cha- 
 lusse offered to find another school, promising to take 
 
200 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 such precautions as would insure my peace of mind. 
 But I interrupted him before he had spoken a dozen 
 words, declaring I would rather return to the book- 
 binders than chance another such experiment. And 
 what I said I meant. A subterfuge a fictitious name, 
 for instance could alone shield me from persecution 
 similar to what I had endured at Sainte-Marthe. But 
 I knew that I was incapable of playing such a part 
 I felt that I should somehow confess everything. My 
 firmness imparted some resolution to M. de Chalusse. 
 He exclaimed, with an oath, that I was right that he 
 was weary of all this deception and concealment, and 
 that he would make arrangements to have me near him. 
 ' Yes/ he concluded, embracing me, ' the die is cast, 
 come what may ! ' 
 
 " However, these measures required a certain delay ; 
 and, in the meantime, he decided to install me in Paris, 
 which is the only place where one can successfully hide 
 from prying eyes. He purchased a small but conven- 
 ient house, surrounded by a garden, in the neighbor- 
 hood of the Luxembourg Palace, and here he installed 
 me, with two old women and a trusty man-servant. As 
 I needed a chaperon, he went in quest of one, and found 
 Madame Leon." 
 
 On hearing this name, the magistrate gave the young 
 girl a searching look, as if he hoped to discover what 
 estimate she had formed of the housekeeper's charac- 
 ter, as well as what degree of confidence she had 
 granted her. But Mademoiselle Marguerite's face re- 
 mained unaltered in expression. 
 
 " After so many trials," she resumed, " I thought I 
 should now find rest and peace. Yes, I believed so; 
 and the few months I spent in that quiet house will be 
 the happiest of my life I am sure of it. Judge of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 201 
 
 my surprise when, on going down into the little garden 
 on the second day after my arrival,, I saw the young 
 man whom I had met at Cannes, and whose face had 
 lingered in my memory for more than two years as the 
 type of all that was best and noblest in the human 
 countenance. He was standing near the gate. A cloud 
 passed before my eyes. What mysterious freak of fate 
 had caused him to pause there at that particular mo- 
 ment? This much is certain, he recognized me as I 
 had recognized him. He bowed, smiling somewhat, 
 and I fled indoors again, indignant with myself for not 
 being angry at his audacity. I made many plans that 
 day, but the next morning, at the same hour, I hid 
 myself behind a Venetian blind, and saw him pause 
 at the gate, and gaze at the garden with evident 
 anxiety. I soon learned that he lived near by, with his 
 widowed mother; and twice a day, when he went to 
 the Palais de Justice and returned, he passed my 
 home/' 
 
 Her cheeks were crimson now, her eyes were low- 
 ered, and she was evidently embarrassed. But sud- 
 denly, as if ashamed of her blushes, she proudly raised 
 her head, and said, in a firmer voice : " Shall I tell you 
 our simple story? Is it necessary? I should not have 
 concealed anything that has passed from my mother, if 
 I had been so happy as to possess a mother. A few 
 moments 5 conversation now and then, the exchange of 
 a few letters, the pressure of a hand through the gar- 
 den gate, and that is all. Still, I have been guilty of a 
 grave and irreparable fault: I have disobeyed the one 
 rule of my life frankness; and I am cruelly punished 
 for doing so. I did not tell all this to M. de Chalusse 
 in fact, I dared not. I was ashamed of my cow- 
 ardice; from day to day I vowed that I would confess 
 
202 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 everything, and yet I procrastinated. I said to myself 
 every night, ( It shall be done to-morrow ; * but when 
 the morrow came I said, ' I will give myself another 
 day just one more day/ Indeed, my courage failed 
 me when I thought of the count's aristocratic preju- 
 dices; and besides, I knew how ambitious he was for 
 my future. On the other hand, moreover, Pascal was 
 always pleading : ' Don't speak now. My circum- 
 stances are constantly improving. The day is not far 
 off when I shall be able to offer you wealth and fame. 
 When that day comes I will go to your guardian and 
 ask him for your hand; but in Heaven's name don't 
 speak now/ I understood Pascal's motives well 
 enough. The count's immense fortune frightened him, 
 and he feared that he would be accused of being a 
 fortune-hunter. So I waited, with that secret anguish 
 which still haunts those who have been unhappy even 
 when their present is peaceful, and their future seems 
 bright. I kept my secret, saying to myself that such 
 happiness was not meant for me, that it would soon 
 take flight. 
 
 " It took flight all too soon. One morning I heard 
 a carriage draw up outside our door, and the next 
 moment the Count de Chalusse entered the sitting-room. 
 ' Everything is ready to receive you at the Hotel de 
 Chalusse, Marguerite,' said he, ' come ! ' He cere- 
 moniously offered me his arm, and I accompanied him. 
 I could not even leave a message for Pascal, for I had 
 never made a confidante of Madame Leon. Still, a 
 faint hope sustained me. I thought that the precautions 
 taken by M. de Chalusse would somewhat dispel the 
 uncertainty of my position, and furnish me at least 
 with some idea of the vague danger which threatened 
 me. But no. His efforts, so far as I could discover, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 203 
 
 had been confined to changing his servants. Our life 
 in this grand house was the same as it had been at 
 Cannes even more secluded, if that were possible. 
 The count had aged considerably. It was evident that 
 he was sinking beneath the burden of some ever-present 
 sorrow. ' I am condemning you to a cheerless and 
 melancholy youth/ he sometimes said to me, 'but it 
 will not last forever patience, patience ! ' Did he 
 really love me? I think so. But his affection showed 
 itself in a strange manner. Sometimes his voice was 
 so tender that my heart was touched. At others there 
 was a look of hatred in his eyes which terrified me. 
 Occasionally he was severe almost to brutality, and 
 then the next moment he would implore me to forgive 
 him, order the carriage, take me with him to his jew- 
 ellers', and insist upon me accepting some costly orna- 
 ments. Madame Leon declares that my jewels are 
 worth more than twenty thousand francs. At times I 
 wondered if his capricious affection and sternness were 
 really intended for myself. It often seemed to me that 
 I was only a shadow the phantom of some absent per- 
 son, in his eyes. It is certain that he often requested 
 me to dress myself or to arrange my hair in a certain 
 fashion, to wear such and such a color, or to use a 
 particular perfume which he gave me. Frequently, 
 when I was moving about the house, he suddenly ex- 
 claimed : ' Marguerite ! I entreat you, remain just where 
 you are ! 5 
 
 " I obeyed him, but the illusion had already vanished. 
 A sob or an oath would come from his lips, and then 
 in an angry voice he would bid me leave the room." 
 
 The magistrate did not raise his eyes from his talis- 
 manic ring; it might have been supposed that it had 
 fascinated him. Still, his expression denoted profound 
 
204 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 commiseration, and he shook his head thoughtfully. 
 The idea had occurred to him that this unfortunate 
 young girl had been the victim, not precisely of a mad- 
 man, but of one of those maniacs who have just enough 
 reason left to invent the tortures they inflict upon those 
 around them. 
 
 Speaking more slowly than before, as if she were 
 desirous of attracting increased attention on the magis- 
 trate's part, Mademoiselle Marguerite now continued: 
 "If I reminded M. de Chalusse of a person whom he 
 had formerly loved, that person may have been my 
 mother. I say, may have been, because I am not cer- 
 tain of it. All my efforts to discover the truth were 
 unavailing. M. de Chalusse seemed to take a malicious 
 pleasure in destroying all my carefully-arranged the- 
 ories, and in upsetting the conjectures which he had 
 encouraged himself only twenty-four hours previously. 
 Heaven only knows how anxiously I listened to his 
 slightest word ! And it can be easily understood why I 
 did so. My strange and compromising connection with 
 him drove me nearly frantic. It was not strange that 
 people's suspicions were aroused. True, he had changed 
 all his servants before my arrival here; but he had 
 requested Madame Leon to remain with me, and who 
 can tell what reports she may have circulated? It has 
 often happened that when returning from mass on 
 Sundays, I have overheard persons say, ' Look ! there 
 is the Count de Chalusse's mistress ! ' Oh ! not a single 
 humiliation has been spared me not a single one! 
 However, on one point I did not feel the shadow of a 
 doubt. The count had known my mother. He fre- 
 quently alluded to her, sometimes with an outburst of 
 passion which made me think that he had once adored, 
 and still loved her; sometimes, with insults and curses 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 205 
 
 which impressed me with the idea that she had cruelly 
 injured him. But most frequently he reproached her 
 for having unhesitatingly sacrificed me to insure her 
 own safety. He said she could have had no heart ; and 
 that it was an unheard of, incomprehensible, and mon- 
 strous thing that a woman could enjoy luxury and 
 wealth, undisturbed by remorse, knowing that her inno- 
 cent and defenceless child was exposed all the while 
 to the hardships and temptations of abject poverty. I 
 was also certain that my mother was a married woman, 
 for M. de Chalusse alluded to her husband more than 
 once. He hated him with a terrible hatred. One 
 evening, when he was more communicative than usual, 
 he gave me to understand that the great danger he 
 dreaded for me came either from my mother or her 
 husband. He afterward did his best to counteract this 
 impression; but he did not succeed in convincing me 
 that his previous assertion was untrue." 
 
 The magistrate looked searchingly at Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite. " Then those letters which we found just 
 now in the escritoire are from your mother, mademoi- 
 selle ? " he remarked. 
 
 The girl blushed. She had previously been ques- 
 tioned respecting these letters, and she had then made 
 no reply. Now, she hesitated for a moment, and then 
 quietly said : " Your opinion coincides with mine, mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 Thereupon, as if she wished to avoid any further 
 questioning on the subject, she hurriedly continued: 
 " At last a new and even greater trouble came a posi- 
 tive calamity, which made me forget the disgrace at- 
 tached to my birth. One morning at breakfast, about a 
 month ago, the count informed me that he expected 
 two guests to dinner that evening. This was such an 
 
206 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 unusual occurrence that I was struck speechless with 
 astonishment. ' It is extraordinary, I admit/ he added, 
 gayly; 'but it is nevertheless true. M. de Fondege 
 and the Marquis de Valorsay will dine here this even- 
 ing. So, my dear Marguerite, look your prettiest in 
 honor of our old friend/ At six o'clock the two gen- 
 tlemen arrived together. I was well acquainted with 
 M. de Fondege the general, as he was commonly 
 called. He was the count's only intimate friend, and 
 often visited us. But I had never before seen the 
 Marquis de Valorsay, nor had I ever heard his name 
 until M. de Chalusse mentioned it that morning. I 
 don't pretend to judge him. I will only say that as 
 soon as I saw him, the dislike I felt for him bordered 
 on aversion. My false position rendered his close 
 scrutiny actually painful to me, and his attentions and 
 compliments pleased me no better. At dinner he ad- 
 dressed his conversation exclusively to me, and I par- 
 ticularly remember a certain picture he drew of a 
 model household, which positively disgusted me. In 
 his opinion, a husband ought to content himself with 
 being his wife's prime minister the slave of her 
 slightest caprice. He intended, if he married, to allow 
 the Marquise de Valorsay perfect freedom, with an 
 unlimited amount of money, the handsomest carriages, 
 and the most magnificent diamonds in Paris every- 
 thing, indeed, that could gratify her vanity, and render 
 her existence a fairylike dream. ' With such ideas 
 on her husband's part the marchioness will be very diffi- 
 cult to please if she is not contented with her lot,' he 
 added, glancing covertly at me. This exasperated me 
 beyond endurance, and I dryly replied : ' The mere 
 thought of such a husband would drive me to the 
 shelter of a convent/ He seemed considerably discon- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 certed : and I noticed that the general* I mean M* <de 
 Fondege* gave him a mischievous look, 
 
 " However, when the gentlemen had gone* M, de 
 Chalusse scolded me severely. He said that my senti- 
 mental philosophy was quite out of place in a drawing- 
 room, and that my ideas of life,, marriage* and duty 
 could only have been gained in a foundling asylum.. 
 As I attempted to reply* lie interrupted me to sound 
 the praises of the Marquis de Vatarsay* who not only 
 came of an ancient family* and possessed immense, un- 
 encumbered estates* but was a talented, handsome man 
 into the bargain ; in short* one of tltose favored mortals 
 whom all young girls sigh for, The scales fell from 
 my eyes, I instantly understood that M, de Chalusse 
 tad selected the Marquis de Valorsay to be my hus* 
 band* and thus the marquis had designedly explained 
 his matrimonial programme for my benefit. It was a 
 snare to catch the bird, 1 felt indignant tltat he should 
 suppose me so wanting in delicacy of feeling and nobil- 
 ity of character as to be daggled by the life of display 
 and facite pleasure which he had depicted. I had dis- 
 liked him at first and now I despised him : for it was 
 impossible to misunderstand the shameless proposal 
 concealed beneath his half-testing words. He offered 
 me my liberty in exchange for my fortune* Tltat is 
 only a fair contract one might say, Perhaps sot but 
 if he were willing to do this for a certain amount of 
 money* what would he not do for a sum twice or thrice 
 as large? Such wiere my impressions* though t asked 
 myself again and again if t were not mistaken, Ko$ 
 tlte events that followed only confirmed my suspicions 
 Three days later the marquis came again, His visit 
 was to the count* and tliey held a long conference in 
 this study* Having occasion to enter the room,, after 
 
208 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the marquis's departure, I noticed on the table a num- 
 ber of title deeds which he had probably brought for 
 the count's inspection. On the following week there 
 was another conference, and this time a lawyer was 
 present. Any further doubts I might have felt were 
 dispelled by Madame Leon, who was always well in- 
 formed thanks to her habit of listening at the key- 
 holes. ' They are talking of marrying you to the Mar- 
 quis de Valorsay I heard them/ she remarked to me. 
 
 " However, the information did not terrify me. I 
 had profited by the time allowed me for reflection, and 
 I had decided upon the course I should pursue. I am 
 timid, but I am not weak; and I was determined to 
 resist M. de Chalusse's will in this matter, even if it 
 became necessary for me to leave his house, and re- 
 nounce all hopes of the wealth he had promised me. 
 Still I said nothing to Pascal of my mental struggle 
 and final determination. I did not wish to bind him by 
 the advice which he would certainly have given me. I 
 had his troth, and that sufficed. And it was with a 
 thrill of joy that I said to myself : f What does it mat- 
 ter if M. de Chalusse should be so angered by my re- 
 fusal to obey him as to drive me from his house? It 
 will rather be so much the better; Pascal will protect 
 me/ 
 
 " But resistance is only possible when you are at- 
 tacked ; and M. de Chalusse did not even allude to the 
 subject perhaps because affairs had not yet been sat- 
 isfactorily arranged between the marquis and himself 
 possibly because he wished to deprive me of the power 
 to oppose him by taking me unawares. It would have 
 been great imprudence on my part to broach the sub- 
 ject myself, and so I waited calmly and resignedly, 
 storing up all my energy for the decisive hour. I 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 209 
 
 willingly confess that I am not a heroine of romance 
 I do not look upon money with the contempt it de- 
 serves. I was resolved to wed solely in accordance 
 with the dictates of my heart ; but I wished, and hoped, 
 that M. de Chalusse would give me, not a fortune, but 
 a modest dowry. He had become more communica- 
 tive than usual on money matters, and took no pains to 
 conceal the fact that he was engaged in raising the 
 largest possible amount of ready cash. He received 
 frequent visits from his stockbroker, and sometimes 
 when the latter had left him, he showed me rolls of 
 bank-notes and packages of bonds, saying, as he did 
 so: 'You see that your future is assured, my dear 
 Marguerite.' 
 
 " I am only doing the count justice when I say that 
 my future was a subject of constant anxiety to him 
 during the last few months of his life. Less than a 
 fortnight after he had taken me from the asylum, he 
 drew up a will, in which he adopted me and made me 
 his sole legatee. But he afterward destroyed this docu- 
 ment on the plea that it did not afford me sufficient 
 security; and a dozen others shared the same fate. 
 For his mind was constantly occupied with the sub- 
 ject, and he seemed to have a presentiment that his 
 death would be a sudden one. I am forced to admit 
 that he seemed less anxious to endow me with his for- 
 tune than to frustrate the hopes of some persons I did 
 not know. When he burned his last will in my pres- 
 ence, he remarked: 'This document is useless: they 
 would contest it, and probably succeed in having it 
 set aside. I have thought of a better way; I have 
 found an expedient which will provide for all emer- 
 gencies.' And as I ventured some timid objection for 
 it was repugnant to my sense of honor to act as an 
 
210 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 instrument of vengeance or injustice, or assist, even 
 passively, in despoiling any person of his rightful in- 
 heritance he harshly, almost brutally, replied : ' Mind 
 your own business! I will disappoint the folks who 
 are waiting for my property as they deserve to be dis- 
 appointed. They covet my estates do they! Very 
 well, they shall have them. I will leave them my prop- 
 erty, but they shall find it mortgaged to its full value/ 
 
 "Unfortunate man! all his plans have failed. The 
 heirs whom he hated so bitterly, and whom I don't 
 even know, whose existence people have not even sus- 
 pected, can now come, and they will find the wealth he 
 was determined to deprive them of intact. He dreamed 
 of a brilliant destiny for me a proud name, and the 
 rank of a marchioness and he has not even succeeded 
 in protecting me from the most shameful insults. I 
 have been accused of theft before his body was even 
 cold. He wished to make me rich, frightfully rich, and 
 he has not left me enough to buy my bread literally, 
 not enough to buy bread. He was in constant terror 
 concerning my safety, and he died without even telling 
 me what were the mysterious dangers which threatened 
 me; without even telling me something which I am 
 morally certain of that he was my father. He raised 
 me against my will to the highest social position he 
 placed that wonderful talisman, gold, in my hand; he 
 showed me the world at my feet; and suddenly he al- 
 lowed me to fall even to lower depths of misery than 
 those in 'which he found me. Ah! M. de Chalusse, it 
 would have been far better for me if you had left me 
 in the foundling asylum to have earned my own bread. 
 And yet, I freely forgive you." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite reflected for a moment, 
 questioning her memory to ascertain if she had told 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 211 
 
 everything if she had forgotten any particulars of 
 importance. And as it seemed to her that she had 
 nothing more to add, she approached the magistrate, 
 and, with impressive solemnity of tone and manner, 
 exclaimed: "My life up to the present hour is now 
 as well known to you as it is to myself. You know 
 what even the friend, who is my only hope, does not 
 know as yet. And now, when I tell him what I really 
 am, will he think me unworthy of him ? " 
 
 The magistrate sprang to his feet, impelled by an 
 irresistible force. Two big tears, the first he had shed 
 for years, trembled on his eyelashes, and coursed down 
 his furrowed cheeks. "You are a noble creature, my 
 child," he replied, in a voice faltering with emotion; 
 "and if I had a son, I should deem myself fortunate 
 if he chose a wife like you." 
 
 She clasped her hands, with a gesture of intense joy 
 and relief, and then sank into an arm-chair, murmur- 
 ing : " Oh, thanks, monsieur, thanks ! " For she was 
 thinking of Pascal ; and she had feared he might shrink 
 from her when she fully revealed to him her wretched, 
 sorrowful past, of which he was entirely ignorant. But 
 the magistrate's words had reassured her. 
 
 XL 
 
 THE clock on the mantel-shelf struck half-past four. 
 The magistrate and Mademoiselle Marguerite could 
 hear stealthy footsteps in the hall, and a rustling near 
 the door. The servants were prowling round about the 
 study, wondering what was the reason of this prolonged 
 conference. " I must see how the clerk is progressing 
 with the inventory," said the magistrate. "Excuse 
 
212 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 me if I absent myself for a moment; I will soon re- 
 turn." And so saying he rose and left the room. 
 
 But it was only a pretext. He really wished to con- 
 ceal his emotion and regain his composure, for he had 
 been deeply affected by the young girl's narrative. He 
 also needed time for reflection, for the situation had 
 become extremely complicated since Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite had informed him of the existence of heirs 
 of those mysterious enemies who had poisoned the 
 count's peace. These persons would, of course, require 
 to know what had become of the millions deposited in 
 the escritoire, and who would be held accountable for 
 the missing treasure? Mademoiselle Marguerite, un- 
 questionably. Such were the thoughts that flitted 
 through the magistrate's mind as he listened to his 
 clerk's report. Nor was this all; for having solicited 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite's confidence, he must now 
 advise her. And this was a matter of some difficulty. 
 
 However, when he returned to the study he was 
 quite self-possessed and impassive again, and he was 
 pleased to see that on her side the unfortunate girl had, 
 to some extent, at least, recovered her wonted com- 
 posure. " Let us now discuss the situation calmly," he 
 began. " I shall convince you that your prospects are 
 not so frightful as you imagine. But before speaking 
 of the future, will you allow me to refer to the past ? " 
 The girl bowed her consent. " Let us first of all con- 
 sider the subject of the missing millions. They were 
 certainly in the escritoire when M. de Chalusse replaced 
 the vial ; but now they are not to be found, so that the 
 count must have taken them away with him." 
 " That thought occurred to me also." 
 "Did the treasure form a large package?" 
 " Yes, it was large ; but it could have been easily 
 
T-HE COUNTS MILLIONS 213 
 
 concealed under the cloak which M. de Chalusse 
 wore." 
 
 " Very good ! What was the time when he left the 
 house?" 
 
 " About five o'clock/' 
 
 "When was he brought back?" 
 
 "At about half-past six." 
 
 " Where did the cabman pick him up ? " 
 
 " Near the church of Notre Dame de Lorette, so he 
 told me." 
 
 " Do you know the driver's number ? " 
 ' Casimir asked him for it, I believe." 
 
 Had any one inquired the reason of this semi-official 
 examination,, the magistrate would have replied that 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite's interests alone influenced 
 him in the course he was taking. This was quite true ; 
 and yet, without being altogether conscious of the fact, 
 he was also impelled by another motive. This affair 
 interested, almost fascinated, him on account of its 
 mysterious surroundings, and influenced by the desire 
 for arriving at the truth which is inherent in every 
 human heart,, he was anxious to solve the riddle. After 
 a few moments' thoughtful silence, he remarked : " So 
 the point of departure in our investigation, if there is 
 an investigation, will be this : M. de Chalusse left the 
 house with two millions in his possession; and while 
 he was absent, he either disposed of that enormous sum 
 or else it was stolen from him." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite shuddered. " Oh ! stolen," 
 she faltered. 
 
 " Yes, my child anything is possible. We must 
 consider the situation in every possible light. But to 
 continue. Where was M. de Chalusse going?" 
 
 " To the house of a gentleman who would, he 
 
214 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 thought, be able to furnish the address given in the 
 letter he had torn up/' 
 
 " What was this gentleman's name ? " 
 
 " Fortunat." 
 
 The magistrate wrote the name down on his tablets, 
 and then, resuming his examination, he said : " Now, 
 in reference to this unfortunate letter which, in your 
 opinion, was the cause of the count's death, what did 
 it say?" 
 
 " I don't know, monsieur. It is true that I helped 
 the count in collecting the fragments, but I did not 
 read what was written on them." 
 
 "That is of little account. The main thing is to 
 ascertain who wrote the letter. You told me that it 
 could only have come from the sister who disappeared 
 thirty years ago, or else from your mother." 
 
 "That was, and still is, my opinion." 
 
 The magistrate toyed with his ring; and a smile of 
 satisfaction stole over his face. " Very well ! " he ex- 
 claimed, " in less than five minutes I shall be able to 
 tell you whether the letter was from your mother or 
 not. My method is perfectly simple. I have only to 
 compare the handwriting with that of the letters found 
 in the escritoire." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite sprang up, exclaiming: 
 " What a happy idea ! " 
 
 But without seeming to notice the girl's surprise, he 
 added: "Where are the remnants of this letter which 
 you and the count picked up in the garden ? " 
 
 " M. de Chalusse placed them in his pocket." 
 
 " They must be found. Tell the count's valet to look 
 for them." 
 
 The girl rang; but M. Casimir, who was supposed 
 to be engaged in making preparations for the funeral, 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 215 
 
 was not in the house. However, another servant and 
 Madame Leon offered their services, and certainly dis- 
 played the most laudable zeal, but their search was 
 fruitless ; the fragments of the letter could not be found. 
 " How unfortunate ! " muttered the magistrate, as he 
 watched them turn the pockets of the count's clothes 
 inside out. " What a fatality ! That letter would prob- 
 ably have solved the mystery." 
 
 Compelled to submit to this disappointment, he re- 
 turned to the study; but he was evidently discouraged. 
 Although he did not consider the mystery insoluble, far 
 from it, he realized that time and research would be 
 required to arrive at a solution, and that the affair was 
 quite beyond his province. One hope alone remained. 
 
 By carefully studying the last words which M. de 
 Chalusse had written and spoken he might arrive at the 
 intention which had dictated them. Experience had 
 wonderfully sharpened his penetration, and perhaps he 
 might discover a hidden meaning which would throw 
 light upon all this doubt and uncertainty. Accordingly, 
 he asked Mademoiselle Marguerite for the paper upon 
 which the count had endeavored to pen his last wishes ; 
 and in addition he requested her to write on a card the 
 dying man's last words in the order they had been 
 uttered. But on combining the written and the spoken 
 words the only result obtained was as follows : " My 
 entire fortune give friends against Marguerite 
 despoiled your mother take care." These twelve in- 
 coherent words revealed the count's absorbing and 
 poignant anxiety concerning his fortune and Margue- 
 rite's future, and also the fear and aversion with which 
 Marguerite's mother inspired him. But that was all; 
 the sense was not precise enough for any practical pur- 
 pose. Certainly the word " give " needed no explana- 
 
216 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 tion. It was plain that the count had endeavored to 
 write, " I give my entire fortune." The meaning of 
 the word " despoiled " was also clear. It had evidently 
 been wrung from the half-unconscious man by the hor- 
 rible thought that Marguerite his own daughter, un- 
 questionably would not have a penny of all the mil- 
 lions he had intended for her. "Take care" also ex- 
 plained itself. But there were two words which seemed 
 absolutely incomprehensible to the magistrate, and 
 which he vainly strove to connect with the others in an 
 intelligible manner. These were the words " friends " 
 and " against," and they were the most legibly written 
 of all. For the thirtieth time the magistrate was repeat- 
 ing them in an undertone, when a rap came at the 
 door, and almost immediately Madame Leon entered 
 the room. 
 
 " What is it ? " inquired Mademoiselle Marguerite. 
 
 Laying a package of letters, addressed to ~h/ de Cha- 
 lusse, on the desk, the housekeeper replied: " These 
 have just come by the post for the poor count. Heaven 
 rest his soul ! " And then handing a newspaper to 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite, she added, in an unctuous 
 tone : " And some one left this paper for mademoiselle 
 at the same time." 
 
 " This paper for me ? You must be mistaken." 
 
 ee Not at all. I was in the concierge's lodge when 
 the messenger brought it; and he said it was for 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite, from one of her friends." 
 And with these words she made one of her very best 
 courtesies, and withdrew. 
 
 The girl had taken the newspaper, and now, with 
 an air of astonishment and apprehension, she slowly 
 unfolded it. What first attracted her attention was a 
 paragraph on the first page marked round with red 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 217 
 
 chalk. The paper had evidently been sent in order that 
 she might read this particular passage, and accordingly 
 she began to peruse it. " There was a great sensation 
 and a terrible scandal last evening at the residence of 
 Madame d'A , a well known star of the first mag- 
 nitude " 
 
 It was the shameful article which described the 
 events that had robbed Pascal of his honor. And to 
 make assurance doubly sure, to prevent the least mis- 
 take concerning the printed initials, the coward who 
 sent the paper had appended the names of the persons 
 mixed up in the affair, at full length, in pencil. He 
 had written d'Argeles, Pascal Ferailleur, Ferdinand de 
 Coralth, Rochecote. And yet, in spite of these precau- 
 tions, the girl did not at first seize the full meaning of 
 the article; and she was obliged to read it over again. 
 But when she finally understood it when the horrible 
 truth burst upon her the paper fell from her nerve- 
 less hands, she turned as pale as death, and, gasping 
 for breath, leaned heavily against the wall for support. 
 
 Her features expressed such terrible suffering that 
 the magistrate sprang from his chair with a bound. 
 " What has happened ? " he eagerly asked. 
 
 She tried to reply, but finding herself unable to do 
 so, she pointed to the paper lying upon the floor, and 
 gasped: There! there!" 
 
 The magistrate understood everything at the first 
 glance; and this man, who had witnessed so much 
 misery who had been the confidant of so many mar- 
 tyrs was filled with consternation at thought of the 
 misfortunes which destiny was heaping upon this de- 
 fenceless girl. He approached her, and led her gently 
 to an arm-chair, upon which she sank, half fainting. 
 " Poor child ! " he murmured. " The man you had 
 
218 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 chosen the man whom you would have sacrificed 
 everything for is Pascal Ferailleur, is he not?" 
 
 " Yes, it is he/' 
 
 "He is an advocate?" 
 
 " As I have already told you, monsieur." 
 
 " Does he live in the Rue d'Ulm? 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The magistrate shook his head sadly. "It is the 
 same," said he. " I also know him, my poor child ; and 
 I loved and honored him. Yesterday I should have 
 told you that he was worthy of you. He was above 
 slander. But now, see what depths love of play has 
 brought him to. He is a thief ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite's weakness vanished. She 
 sprang from her chair, and indignantly faced the mag- 
 istrate. "It is false!" she cried, vehemently; "and 
 what that paper says is false as well ! " 
 
 Had her reason been affected by so many successive 
 blows? It seemed likely; for, livid a moment before, 
 her face had now turned scarlet. She trembled ner- 
 vously from head to foot, and there was a gleam of 
 insanity in her big black eyes. 
 
 " If she doesn't weep, she is lost," thought the mag- 
 istrate. And, instead of encouraging her to hope, he 
 deemed it best to try and destroy what he considered 
 a dangerous illusion. "Alas! my poor child," he said 
 sadly, "you must not deceive yourself. The news- 
 papers are often hasty in their judgment; but an 
 article like that is only published when proof of its 
 truth is furnished by witnesses of unimpeachable 
 veracity." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders as if she were listening 
 to some monstrous absurdities, and then thoughtfully 
 muttered : " Ah ! now Pascal's silence is explained ; now 
 
SHE POINTED TO THE PAPER LYING UPON THE FLOOR, AND GASPED: 
 "THERE! THERE!" 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 219 
 
 I understand why he has not yet replied to the letter 
 I wrote him last night." 
 
 The magistrate persevered,, however, and added : "So, 
 after the article you have just read, no one can enter* 
 tain the shadow of a doubt" 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite hastily interrupted him, 
 " But I have not doubted him for a second ! " she ex- 
 claimed. "Doubt Pascal! I doubt Pascal! I would 
 sooner doubt myself. I might commit a dishonorable 
 act; I am only a poor, weak,, ignorant girl, while he 
 he You don't know, then, that he was my con- 
 science ? Before undertaking anything, before deciding 
 upon anything, if ever I felt any doubt, I asked myself, 
 ' What would he do ? ' And the mere thought of him 
 is sufficient to banish any unworthy idea from my 
 heart." Her tone and manner betokened complete and 
 unwavering confidence; and her faith imparted an al- 
 most sublime expression to her face. " If I was over- 
 come, monsieur," she continued, "it was only because 
 I was appalled by the audacity of the accusation. How 
 was it possible to make Pascal even seem to be guilty 
 of a dishonorable act? This is beyond my powers of 
 comprehension. I am only certain of one thing that 
 he is innocent. If the whole world rose to testify 
 against him, it would not shake my faith in him, and 
 even if he confessed that he was guilty I should be 
 more likely to believe that he was crazed than cul- 
 pable ! " 
 
 A bitter smile curved her lips, she was beginning to 
 judge the situation more correctly, and in a calmer tone 
 she resumed : " Moreover, what does circumstantial evi- 
 dence prove? Did you not this morning hear all our 
 servants declaring that I was accountable for M. de 
 Chalusse's millions? Who knows what might have 
 
220 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 happened if it had not been for your intervention? 
 Perhaps, by this time., I should have been in prison/* 
 
 "This is not a parallel case, my child." 
 
 " It is a parallel case, monsieur. Suppose, for one 
 moment, that I had been formally accused what do 
 you think Pascal would have replied if people had gone 
 to him, and said, ' Marguerite is a thief?' He would 
 have laughed them to scorn, and have exclaimed, ' Im- 
 possible ! > " 
 
 The magistrate's mind was made up. In his opinion, 
 Pascal Ferailleur was guilty. Still it was useless to 
 argue with the girl, for he felt that he should not be 
 able to convince her. However, he determined, if possi- 
 ble, to ascertain her plans in order to oppose them, if 
 they seemed to him at all dangerous. " Perhaps you 
 are right, my child," he conceded, " still, this unfor- 
 tunate affair must change all your arrangements." 
 
 " Rather, it modifies them." Surprised by her calm- 
 ness, he looked it her inquiringly. " An hour ago," 
 she added, " I had resolved to go to Pascal and claim 
 his aid and protection as one claims an undeniable right 
 or the fulfilment of a solemn promise ; but now " 
 
 " Well ? " eagerly asked the magistrate. 
 
 " I am still resolved to go to him but as an humble 
 suppliant. And I shall say to him, ' You are suffering, 
 but no sorrow is intolerable when there are two to bear 
 the burden; and so, here I am. Everything else may 
 fail you your dearest friends may basely desert you; 
 but here am I. Whatever your plans may be whether 
 you have decided to leave Europe or to remain in Paris 
 to watch for your hour of vengeance, you will need a 
 faithful, trusty companion a confidant and here I 
 am ! Wife, friend, sister I will be which ever you 
 desire. I am yours yours unconditionally.' >; And as 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 221 
 
 if in reply to a gesture of surprise which escaped the 
 magistrate, she added : " He is unhappy I am free 
 I love him ! " 
 
 The magistrate was struck dumb with astonishment. 
 He knew that she would surely do what she said; he 
 had realized that she was one of those generous,, heroic 
 women who are capable of any sacrifice for the man 
 they love a woman who would never shrink from 
 what she considered to be her duty, who was utterly 
 incapable of weak hesitancy or selfish calculation. 
 
 " Fortunately, my dear young lady, your devotion 
 will no doubt be useless," he said at last. 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " Because M. Ferailleur owes it to you, and, what is 
 more, he owes it to himself, not to accept such a sacri- 
 fice." Failing to understand his meaning, she looked 
 at him inquiringly. " You will forgive me, I trust," 
 he continued, " if I warn you to prepare for a disap- 
 pointment. Innocent or guilty, M. Ferailleur is dis- 
 graced. Unless something little short of a miracle 
 comes to help him, his career is ended. This is one of 
 those charges one of those slanders, if you prefer that 
 term, which a man can never shake off. So how can 
 you hope that he will consent to link your destiny to 
 his?" 
 
 She had not thought of this objection, and it seemed 
 to her a terrible one. Tears came to her dark eyes, 
 and in a despondent voice she murmured : " God grant 
 that he will not evince such cruel generosity. The 
 only great and true misfortune that could strike me 
 now would be to have him repel me. M. de Chalusse's 
 death leaves me without means without bread; but 
 now I can almost bless my poverty since it enables me 
 to ask him what would become of me if he abandoned 
 
222 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 me, and who would protect me if he refused to do so. 
 The brilliant career he dreamed of is ended, you say. 
 Ah, well! I will console him, and though we are un- 
 fortunate, we may yet be happy. Our enemies are 
 triumphant so be it : we should only tarnish our honor 
 by stooping to contend against such villainy. But in 
 some new land, in America, perhaps, we shall be able 
 to find some quiet spot where we can begin a new and 
 better career/' It was almost impossible to believe 
 that it was Mademoiselle Marguerite, usually so 
 haughtily reserved, who was now speaking with such 
 passionate vehemence. And to whom was she talking 
 in this fashion? To a stranger, whom she saw for the 
 first time. But she was urged on by circumstances, the 
 influence of which was stronger than her own will. 
 They had led her to reveal her dearest and most sacred 
 feelings and to display her real nature free from any 
 kind of disguise. 
 
 However, the magistrate concealed the emotion and 
 sympathy which filled his heart and refused to admit 
 that the girl's hopes were likely to be realized. " And 
 if M. Ferailleur refused to accept your sacrifice ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " It is not a sacrifice, monsieur." 
 
 " No matter ; but supposing he refused it, what 
 should you do ? " 
 
 " What should I do ? " she muttered. " I don't know. 
 Still I should have no difficulty in earning a livelihood. 
 I have been told that I have a remarkable voice. I 
 might, perhaps, go upon the stage." 
 
 The magistrate sprang from his arm-chair. "You 
 become an actress, you? " 
 
 " Under such circumstances it would little matter 
 what became of me ! " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 223 
 
 "But you don't suspect you cannot imagine " 
 
 He was at a loss for words to explain the nature of 
 his objections to such a career ; and it was Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite who found them for him. " I suspect that 
 theatrical life is an abominable life for a woman/' she 
 said, gravely ; " but I know that there are many noble 
 and chaste women who have adopted the profession. 
 That is enough for me. My pride is a sufficient pro- 
 tection. It preserved me as an apprentice; it would 
 preserve me as an actress. I might be slandered; but 
 that is not an irremediable misfortune. I despise the 
 world too much to be troubled by its opinion so long 
 as I have the approval of my own conscience. And 
 why should I not become a great artiste if I consecrated 
 all the intelligence, passion, energy, and will I might 
 possess, to my art?" 
 
 Hearing a knock at the door she paused ; and a mo- 
 ment later a footman entered with lights, for night was 
 falling. He was closely followed by another servant, 
 who said : " Mademoiselle, the Marquis de Valorsay is 
 below, and wishes to know if mademoiselle will grant 
 him the honor of an interview." 
 
 XII. 
 
 ON hearing M. de Valorsay's name, Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite and the magistrate exchanged glances full 
 of wondering conjecture. The girl was undecided what 
 course to pursue ; but the magistrate put an end to her 
 perplexity. " Ask the marquis to come up," he said 
 to the servant. 
 
 The footman left the room; and, as soon as he had 
 disappeared,, Mademoiselle Marguerite exclaimed: 
 
224 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 "What, monsieur! after all I have told you, you still 
 wish me to receive him?" 
 
 " It is absolutely necessary that you should do so. 
 You must know what he wishes and what hope 
 brings him here. Calm yourself, and submit to neces- 
 sity." 
 
 In a sort of bewilderment, the girl hastily arranged 
 her disordered dress, and caught up her wavy hair 
 which had fallen over her shoulders. " Ah ! monsieur/'" 
 she remarked, " don't you understand that he still be- 
 lieves me to be the count's heiress? In his eyes, I am 
 still surrounded by the glamor of the millions which 
 are mine no longer." 
 
 " Hush ! here he comes ! " 
 
 The Marquis de Valorsay was indeed upon the 
 threshold, and a moment later he entered the room. 
 He was clad with the exquisite taste of those intelli- 
 gent gentlemen to whom the color of a pair of trousers 
 is a momentous matter, and whose ambition is satisfied 
 if they are regarded as a sovereign authority respecting 
 the cut of a waistcoat. As a rule, his expression of 
 face merely denoted supreme contentment with himself 
 and indifference as to others, but now, strange to say, 
 he looked grave and almost solemn. His right leg 
 the unfortunate limb which had been broken when he 
 fell from his horse in Ireland seemed stiff, and 
 dragged a trifle more than usual, but this was probably 
 solely due to the influence of the atmosphere. He 
 bowed to Mademoiselle Marguerite with every mark of 
 profound respect, and without seeming to notice the 
 magistrate's presence. 
 
 " You will excuse me, I trust, mademoiselle," said 
 he, " in having insisted upon seeing you, so that I 
 might express my deep sympathy. I have just heard 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 225 
 
 of the terrible misfortune which has befallen you the 
 sudden death of your father." 
 
 She drew back as if she were terrified, and repeated : 
 "My father!" 
 
 The marquis did not evince the slightest surprise. 
 " I know," said he, in a voice which he tried to make 
 as feeling as possible, " I know that M. de Chalusse 
 kept this fact concealed from you; but he confided his 
 secret to me." 
 
 " To you ? " interrupted the magistrate, who was un- 
 able to restrain himself any longer. 
 
 The marquis turned haughtily to this old man dressed 
 in black, and in the dry tone one uses in speaking to 
 an indiscreet inferior, he replied : " To me, yes, mon- 
 sieur; and he acquainted me not only by word of 
 mouth, but in writing also, with the motives which in- 
 fluenced him, expressing his fixed intention, not only 
 of recognizing Mademoiselle Marguerite as his daugh- 
 ter, but also of adopting her in order to insure her un- 
 disputed right to his fortune and his name." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the magistrate as if suddenly enlight- 
 ened; "ah! ah!" 
 
 But without noticing this exclamation which was, at 
 least, remarkable in tone, M. de Valorsay again turned 
 to Mademoiselle Marguerite, and continued : " Your 
 ignorance on this subject, mademoiselle, convinces me 
 that your servants have not deceived me in telling me 
 that M. de Chalusse was struck down without the 
 slightest warning. But they have told me one thing 
 which I cannot believe. They have told me that the 
 count made no provision for you, that he left no will, 
 and that excuse a liberty which is prompted only by 
 the most respectful interest and that, the result of 
 this incomprehensible and culpable neglect is that you 
 
226 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 are ruined and almost without means. Can this be 
 possible ? " 
 
 " It is the exact truth, monsieur/' replied Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite. " I am reduced to the necessity of 
 working for my daily bread/' 
 
 She spoke these words with a sort of satisfaction, 
 expecting that the marquis would betray his disap- 
 pointed covetousness by some significant gesture or ex- 
 clamation, and she was already prepared to rejoice at 
 his confusion. But her expectations were not realized. 
 Instead of evincing the slightest dismay or even regret, 
 M. de Valorsay drew a long breath, as if a great bur- 
 den had been lifted from his heart, and his eyes sparkled 
 with apparent delight. " Then I may venture to speak," 
 he exclaimed, with unconcealed satisfaction, " I will 
 speak, mademoiselle, if you will deign to allow me." 
 
 She looked at him with anxious curiosity, wonder- 
 ing what was to come. " Speak, monsieur," she fal- 
 tered. 
 
 " I will obey you. mademoiselle," he said, bowing 
 again. " But first, alitw me to tell you how great my 
 hopes have been. M. de Chalusse's death is an irre- 
 parable misfortune for me as for yourself. He had 
 allowed me, mademoiselle, to aspire to the honor of 
 becoming a suitor for your hand. If he did not speak 
 to you on the subject, it was only because he wished 
 to leave you absolutely free, and impose upon me the 
 difficult task of winning your consent. But between 
 him and rne everything had been arranged in principle, 
 and he was to give a dowry of three millions of francs 
 to Mademoiselle Marguerite de Chalusse, his daughter." 
 
 " I am no longer Mademoiselle de Chalusse, Mon- 
 sieur le Marquis, and I am no longer the possessor 
 of a fortune." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 227 
 
 He felt the sharp sting of this retort, for the blood 
 rose to his cheeks, still he did not lose his composure. 
 " If you were still rich, mademoiselle/' he replied, in 
 the reproachful tone of an honest man who feels that 
 he is misunderstood, " I should, perhaps, have strength 
 to keep the sentiments with which you have inspired 
 
 me a secret in my own heart; but " He rose, and 
 
 with a gesture which was not devoid of grace, and in a 
 full ringing voice he added: "But you are no longer 
 the possessor of millions ; and so I may tell you, Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite, that I love you. Will you be my 
 wife?" 
 
 The poor girl was obliged to exercise all her powers 
 of self-control to restrain an exclamation of dismay. It 
 was indeed more than dismay ; she was absolutely terri- 
 fied by the Marquis de Valorsay's unexpected declara- 
 tion, and she could only falter : " Monsieur ! monsieur !" 
 
 But with an air of winning frankness he continued: 
 " Need I tell you who I am, mademoiselle ? No ; that 
 is unnecessary. The fact that my suit was approved 
 of by M. de Chalusse' is the best recommendation I 
 can offer you. The pure and stainless name I bear is 
 one of the proudest in France ; and though my fortune 
 may have been somewhat impaired by youthful folly, 
 it is still more than sufficient to maintain an establish- 
 ment in keeping with my rank." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was still powerless to re- 
 ply. Her presence of mind had entirely deserted her, 
 and her tongue seemed to cleave to her palate. She 
 glanced entreatingly at the old magistrate, as if im- 
 ploring his intervention, but he was so absorbed in 
 contemplating his wonderful ring, that one might have 
 imagined he was oblivious of all that was going on 
 around him. 
 
228 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " I am aware that I have so far not been fortunate 
 enough to please you, mademoiselle," continued the 
 marquis. " M. de Chalusse did not conceal it from 
 me I remember, alas ! that I advocated in your pres- 
 ence a number of stupid theories, which must have 
 given you a very poor opinion of me. But you will for- 
 give me, I trust. My ideas have entirely changed since 
 I have learned to understand and appreciate your vig- 
 orous intellect and nobility of soul. I thoughtlessly 
 spoke to you in the language which is usually addressed 
 to young ladies of our rank of life frivolous beauties, 
 who are spoiled by vanity and luxury, and who look 
 upon marriage only as a means of enfranchisement. 1 " 
 
 His words were disjointed as if emotion choked his 
 utterance. At times, it seemed as if he could scarcely 
 command his feelings; and then his voice became so 
 faint and trembling that it was scarcely intelligible. 
 
 However, by allowing him to continue, by listening 
 to what he said, Mademoiselle Marguerite was encour- 
 aging him, even more virtually binding herself. She 
 understood that this was the case, and making a pow- 
 erful effort, she interrupted him, saying : " I assure you, 
 Monsieur le Marquis, that I am deeply touched and 
 grateful but I am no longer free." 
 
 " Pray, mademoiselle, pray do not reply to-day. 
 Grant me a little time to overcome your prejudices." 
 
 She shook her head, and in a firmer voice, replied: 
 " I have no prejudices ; but for some time past already, 
 my future has been decided, irrevocably decided." 
 
 He seemed thunderstruck, and his manner apparent- 
 ly indicated that the possibility of a repulse had never 
 entered his mind. His eyes wandered restlessly from 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite to the countenance of the old 
 magistrate, who remained as impassive as a sphinx, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 229 
 
 and at last they lighted on a newspaper which was 
 lying on the floor at the young girl's feet. " Do not 
 deprive me of all hope/' he murmured. 
 
 She made no answer, and understanding her silence, 
 he was about to retire when the door suddenly opened 
 and a servant announced : " Monsieur de Fondege." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite touched the magistrate on 
 the shoulder to attract his attention. " This gentleman 
 is M. de Chalusse's friend whom I sent for this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 At the same moment a man who looked some sixty 
 years of age entered the room. He was very tall, and 
 as straight as the letter I, being arrayed in a long blue 
 frock-coat, while his neck, which was as red and as 
 wrinkled as that of a turkey-cock, was encased in a 
 very high and stiff satin cravat. On seeing his ruddy 
 face, his closely cropped hair, his little eyes twinkling 
 under his bushy eyebrows, and his formidable mus- 
 taches a la Victor Emmanuel, you would have immedi- 
 ately exclaimed : " That man is an old soldier ! " 
 
 A great mistake ! M. de Fondege had never been 
 in the service, and it was only in mockery of his some- 
 what bellicose manners and appearance that some 
 twenty years previously his friends had dubbed him 
 " the General." However, the appellation had clung to 
 him. The nickname had been changed to a title, and 
 now M. de Fondege was known as "the General" 
 everywhere. He was invited and announced as <e the 
 General." Many people believed that he had really 
 been one, and perhaps he fancied so himself, for he had 
 long been in the habit of inscribing " General A. de 
 Fondege " on his visiting cards. The nickname had had 
 a decisive influence on his life. He had endeavored to 
 show himself worthy of it, and the manners he had at 
 
230 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 first assumed, eventually became natural ones. He 
 seemed to be the conventional old soldier irascible 
 and jovial at the same time; brusk and kind; at once 
 frank, sensible and brutal ; as simple as a child, and yet 
 as true as steel. He swore the most tremendous oaths 
 in a deep bass voice, and whenever he talked his arms 
 revolved like the sails of a windmill. However, Madame 
 de Fondege, who was a very angular lady, with a 
 sharp nose and very thin lips, assured people that her 
 husband was not so terrible as he appeared. He was 
 not considered very shrewd, and he pretended to have 
 an intense dislike for business matters. No one knew 
 anything precise about his fortune, but he had a great 
 many friends who invited him to dinner, and they all 
 declared that he was in very comfortable circum- 
 stances. 
 
 On entering the study this worthy man did not pay 
 the slightest attention to the Marquis de Valorsay, al- 
 though they were intimate friends. He walked straight 
 up to Mademoiselle Marguerite, caught her in his long 
 arms, and pressed her to his heart, brushing her face 
 with his huge mustaches as he pretended to kiss her. 
 " Courage, my dear," he growled; "courage. Don't 
 give way. Follow my example. Look at me ! " So 
 saying he stepped back, and it was really amusing to 
 see the extraordinary effort he made to combine a sol- 
 dier's stoicism with a friend's sorrow. "You must 
 wonder at my delay, my dear," he resumed, "but it 
 was not my fault. I was at Madame de Rochecote's 
 when I was informed that your messenger was at home 
 waiting for me. I returned, and heard the frightful 
 news. It was a thunderbolt. A friend of thirty years' 
 standing! A thousand thunderclaps! I acted as his 
 second when he fought his first duel. Poor Chalusse! 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 231 
 
 A man as sturdy as an oak, and who ought to have 
 outlived us all. But it is always so; the best soldiers 
 always file by first at dress-parade/' 
 
 The Marquis de Valorsay had beaten a retreat, the 
 magistrate was hidden in a dark corner,, and Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite, who was accustomed to the General's 
 manner, remained silent, being well aware that there 
 was no chance of putting in a word as long as he had 
 possession of the floor. " Fortunatelv, poor Chalusse 
 was a prudent man/' continued M. de i 7 ondege. " He 
 loved you devotedly, my dear, as his testamentary pro- 
 visions must have shown you." 
 
 " His provisions ? " 
 
 " Yes, most certainly. Surely you don't mean to try 
 and conceal anything from one who knows all. Ah! 
 you will be one of the greatest catches in Europe, and 
 you will have plenty of suitors." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite sadly shook her head. 
 "You are mistaken, General; the count left no will, 
 and has made no provision whatever for me." 
 
 M. de Fondege trembled, turned a trifle pale, and 
 in a faltering voice, exclaimed : " What ! You tell me 
 that ? Chalusse ! A thousand thunderclaps ! It isn't 
 possible." 
 
 "The count was stricken with apoplexy in a cab. 
 He went out about five o'clock, on foot, and a little 
 before seven he was brought home unconscious. Where 
 he had been we don't know." 
 
 " You don't know ? you don't know ? " 
 
 " Alas ! no ; and he was only able to utter a few in- 
 coherent words before he died." Thereupon the poor 
 girl began a brief account of what had taken place 
 during the last four-and-twenty hours. Had she been 
 less absorbed in her narrative she would have noticed 
 
232 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 that the General was not listening to her. He was sit- 
 ting at the count's desk and was toying with the letters 
 which Madame Leon had brought into the room a short 
 time previously. One of them especially seemed to at- 
 tract his attention, to exercise a sort of fascination over 
 him as it were. He looked at it with hungry eyes, and 
 whenever he touched it, his hand trembled, or involun- 
 tarily clinched. His face, moreover, had become livid ; 
 his eyes twitched nervously ; he seemed to have a diffi- 
 culty in breathing, and big drops of perspiration trickled 
 down his forehead. If the magistrate were able to see 
 the General's face, he must certainly have been of 
 opinion that a terrible conflict was raging in his mind. 
 The struggle lasted indeed for fully five minutes, and 
 then suddenly, certain that no one saw him, he caught 
 up the letter in question and slipped it into his pocket. 
 
 Poor Marguerite was now finishing her story : " You 
 see, monsieur, that, far from being an heiress, as you 
 suppose, I am homeless and penniless," she said. 
 
 The General had risen from his chair, and was strid- 
 ing up and down the room with every token of intense 
 agitation. " It's true," he said apparently unconscious 
 of his words. " She's ruined lost the misfortune is 
 complete ! " Then, suddenly pausing with folded arms 
 in front of Mademoiselle Marguerite : " What are you 
 going to do ? " he asked. 
 
 " God will not forsake me, General," she replied. 
 
 He turned on his heel and resumed his promenade, 
 wildly gesticulating and indulging in a furious mono- 
 logue which was certainly not very easy to follow. 
 " Frightful ! terrible ! " he growled. " The daughter of 
 an old comrade zounds ! of a friend of thirty years' 
 standing to be left in such a plight! Never, a thou- 
 sand thunderclaps ! never ! Poor child ! a heart of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 233 
 
 gold, and as pretty as an angel ! This horrible Paris 
 would devour her at a single mouthful ! It would be 
 a crime an abomination ! It sha'n't be ! the old vet- 
 erans are here, firm as rocks ! " 
 
 Thereupon, approaching the poor girl again, he ex- 
 claimed in a coarse but seemingly feeling voice : "Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite." 
 
 "General?" 
 
 " You are acquainted with my son, Gustave Fondege, 
 are you not ? " 
 
 " I think I have heard you speak of him to M. de 
 Chalusse several times." 
 
 The General tugged furiously at his mustaches as 
 was his wont whenever he was perplexed or embar- 
 rassed. " My son," he resumed, " is twenty-seven. He's 
 now a lieutenant of hussars, and will soon be promoted 
 to the rank of captain. He's a handsome fellow, sure 
 to make his way in the world, for he's not wanting in 
 spirit. As I never attempt to hide the truth, I must 
 confess that he's a trifle dissipated ; but his heart is all 
 right, and a charming little wife would soon turn him 
 from the error of his ways, and he'd become the pearl 
 of husbands." He paused, passed his forefinger three 
 or four times between his collar and his neck, and then, 
 in a half-strangled voice, he added : " Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite, I have the honor to ask for your hand in 
 marriage on behalf of Lieutenant Gustave de Fondege, 
 my son." 
 
 There was a dangerous gleam of anger in Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite's eyes, as she coldly replied: "I am 
 honored by your request, monsieur; but my future is 
 already decided." 
 
 Some seconds elapsed before M. de Fondege could 
 recover his powers of speech. " This is a piece of fool- 
 
234 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 ishness," he faltered, at last with singular agitation. 
 " Let me hope that you will reconsider the matter. And 
 if Gustave doesn't please you, we will find some one 
 better. But under no circumstances will Chalusse's old 
 comrade ever desert you. I shall send Madame de 
 Fondege to see you this evening. She's a good woman 
 and you will understand each other. Come,, answer me, 
 what do you say to it?" 
 
 His persistence irritated the poor girl beyond endur- 
 ance, and to put an end to the painful scene, she at last 
 asked : " Would you not like to look for the last time 
 at M. de Chalusse?" 
 
 " Ah ! yes, certainly an old friend of thirty years' 
 standing." So saying he advanced toward the door 
 leading into the death-room, but on reaching the 
 threshold, he cried in sudden terror : " Oh ! no, no, I 
 could not." And with these words he withdrew or 
 rather he fled from the room down the stairs. 
 
 As long as the General had been there, the magistrate 
 had given no sign of life. But seated beyond the circle 
 of light cast by the lamps, he had remained an atten- 
 tive spectator of the scene, and now that he found him- 
 self once more alone with Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 he came forward, and leaning against the mantelpiece 
 and looking her full in the face he exclaimed : " Well, 
 my child?" 
 
 The girl trembled like a culprit awaiting sentence of 
 death, and it was in a hollow voice that she replied: 
 " I understood " 
 
 "What?" insisted the pitiless magistrate. 
 
 She raised her beautiful eyes, in which angry tears 
 were still glittering, and then answered in a voice which 
 quivered with suppressed passion, " I have fathomed 
 the infamy of those two men who have just left the 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 235 
 
 house. I understood the insult their apparent gener- 
 osity conceals. They had questioned the servants, and 
 had ascertained that two millions were missing. Ah, 
 the scoundrels ! They believe that I have stolen those 
 millions; and they came to ask me to share the ill- 
 gotten wealth with them. What an insult ! and to think 
 that I am powerless to avenge it! Ah! the servants' 
 suspicions were nothing in comparison with this. At 
 least, they did not ask for a share of the booty as the 
 price of their silence ! " 
 
 The magistrate shook his head as if this explanation 
 scarcely satisfied him. " There is something else, there 
 is certainly something else," he repeated. But the doors 
 were still open, so he closed them carefully, and then 
 returned to the girl he was so desirous of advising. " I 
 wish to tell you," he said, " that you have mistaken the 
 motives which induced these gentlemen to ask for your 
 hand in marriage/' 
 
 " Do \ you believe, then, that you have fathomed 
 them?" 
 
 " I could almost swear that I had. Didn't you re- 
 mark a great difference in their manner? Didn't one 
 of them, the marquis, behave with all the calmness and 
 composure which are the result of reflection and cal- 
 culation? The other, on the contrary, acted most pre- 
 cipitately, as if he had suddenly come to a determina- 
 tion, and formed a plan on the impulse of the moment." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite reflected. 
 
 " That's true," she said, " that's indeed true. Now 
 I recollect the difference." 
 
 " And this is my explanation of it," resumed the 
 magistrate. "'The Marquis de Valorsay/ I said to 
 myself, ( must have proofs in his possession that Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite is the count's daughter written 
 
236 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and conclusive proofs, that is certain probably a vol- 
 untary admission of the fact from the father. Who can 
 prove that M. de Valorsay does not possess this ac- 
 knowledgment ? In fact, he must possess it. He hinted 
 it himself.' Accordingly on hearing of the count's sud- 
 den death, he said to himself, 'If Marguerite was my 
 wife, and if I could prove her to be M. de Chalusse's 
 daughter, I should obtain several millions.' Whereupon 
 he consulted his legal adviser who assured him that it 
 would be the best course he could pursue; and so he 
 came here. You repulsed him, but he will soon make 
 another assault, you may rest assured of that. And 
 some day or other he will come to you and say, 
 6 Whether we marry or not, let us divide.' '' 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was amazed. The magis- 
 trate's words seemed to dispel the mist which had 
 hitherto hidden the truth from view. " Yes," she ex- 
 claimed, "yes, you are right, monsieur." 
 
 He was silent for a moment, and then he resumed : 
 ee I understand M. de Fondege's motive less clearly ; 
 but still I have some clue. He had not questioned the 
 servants. That is evident from the fact that on his 
 arrival here he believed you to be the sole legatee. He 
 was also aware that M. de Chalusse had taken certain 
 precautions we are ignorant of, but which he is no 
 doubt fully acquainted with. What you told him about 
 your poverty amazed him, and he immediately evinced 
 a desire to atone for the count's neglect with as much 
 eagerness as if he were the cause of this negligence 
 himself. And, indeed, judging by the agitation he dis- 
 played when he was imploring you to become his son's 
 wife, one might almost imagine that the sight of your 
 misery awakened a remorse which he was endeavoring 
 to quiet. Now, draw your own conclusions." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 237 
 
 The wretched girl looked questioningly at the magis- 
 trate as if she hesitated to trust the thoughts which his 
 words had awakened in her mind. " Then you think, 
 monsieur/' she said, with evident reluctance, "you think, 
 you suppose, that the General is acquainted with the 
 whereabouts of the missing millions ? " 
 
 " Quite correct," answered the magistrate, and then 
 as if he feared that he had gone too far, he added : " but 
 draw your own conclusions respecting the matter. You 
 have the whole night before you. We will talk it over 
 again to-morrow, and if I can be of service to you in 
 any way, I shall be only too glad." 
 
 " But, monsieur " 
 
 " Oh to-morrow, to-morrow I must go to dinner 
 now; besides, my clerk must be getting terribly im- 
 patient." 
 
 The clerk was, indeed, out of temper. Not that he 
 had finished taking an inventory of the appurtenances 
 of this immense house, but because he considered that 
 he had done quite enough work for one day. And yet 
 his discontent was sensibly diminished when he cal- 
 culated the amount he would receive for his pains. 
 During the nine years he had held this office he had 
 never made such an extensive inventory before. He 
 seemed somewhat dazzled, and as he followed his 
 superior out of the house, he remarked : " Do you know, 
 monsieur, that as nearly as I can discover the de- 
 ceased's fortune must amount to more than twenty mil- 
 lions an income of a million a year ! And to think 
 that the poor young lady shouldn't have a penny of it. 
 I suspect she's crying her eyes out." 
 
 But the clerk was mistaken. Mademoiselle Margue- 
 rite was then questioning M. Casimir respecting the ar- 
 rangements which he had made for the funeral, and 
 
238 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 when this sad duty was concluded, she consented to 
 take a little food standing in front of the sideboard in 
 the dining-room. Then she went to kneel in the count's 
 room, where four members of the parochial clergy were 
 reciting the prayers for the dead. 
 
 She was so exhausted with fatigue that she could 
 scarcely speak, and her eyelids were heavy with sleep. 
 But she had another task to fulfil, a task which she 
 deemed a sacred duty. She sent a servant for a cab, 
 threw a shawl over her shoulders, and left the house 
 accompanied by Madame Leon. The cabman drove as 
 fast as possible to the house where Pascal and his 
 mother resided in the Rue d'Ulm; but on arriving 
 there, the front door was found to be closed, and the 
 light in the vestibule was extinguished. Marguerite 
 was obliged to ring five or six times before the con- 
 cierge made his appearance. 
 
 " I wish to see Monsieur Ferailleur," she quietly 
 said. 
 
 The man glanced at her scornfully, and then replied : 
 " He no longer lives here. The landlord doesn't want 
 any thieves in his house. He's sold his rubbish and 
 started for America, with his old witch of a mother." 
 
 So saying he closed the door again, and Marguerite 
 was so overwhelmed by this last and unexpected mis- 
 fortune, that she could hardly stagger back to the ve- 
 hicle. " Gone ! " she murmured ; " gone ! without a 
 thought of me! Or does he believe me to be like all 
 the rest? But I will find him again. That man For- 
 tunat, who ascertained addresses for M. de Ghalusse, 
 will find Pascal for me/' 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 239 
 
 XIII. 
 
 FEW people have any idea of the great number of es- 
 tates which, in default of heirs to claim them, annually 
 revert to the government. The treasury derives large 
 sums from this source every year. And this is easily 
 explained, for nowadays family ties are becoming less 
 and less binding. Brothers cease to meet; their chil- 
 dren no longer know each other; and the members of 
 the second generation are as perfect strangers as though 
 they were not united by a bond of consanguinity. The 
 young man whom love of adventure lures to a far-off 
 country, and the young girl who marries against her 
 parents' wishes, soon cease to exist for their relatives. 
 No one even inquires what has become of them. Those 
 who remain at home are afraid to ask whether they are 
 prosperous or unfortunate, lest they should be called 
 upon to assist the wanderers. Forgotten themselves, 
 the adventurers in their turn soon forget. If fortune 
 smiles upon them, they are careful not to inform their 
 relatives. Poor they have been cast off; wealthy 
 they themselves deny their kindred. Having become 
 rich unaided, they find an egotistical satisfaction in 
 spending their money alone in accordance with their 
 own fancies. Now when a man of this class dies what 
 happens? The servants and people around him profit 
 of his loneliness and isolation, and the justice of the 
 peace is only summoned to affix the seals, after they 
 have removed all the portable property. An inventory 
 is taken, and after a few formalities, as no heirs pre- 
 sent themselves, the court declares the inheritance to 
 be in abeyance, and appoints a trustee. 
 
240 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 This trustee's duties are very simple. He manages 
 the property and remits the income to the Treasury 
 until a legal judgment declares the estate the property 
 of the country, regardless of any heirs who may pre- 
 sent themselves in future. 
 
 " If I only had a twentieth part of the money that is 
 lost in this way, my fortune would be made," exclaimed 
 a shrewd man, some thirty years ago. 
 
 The person who spoke was Antoine Vaudore. For 
 six months he secretly nursed the idea, studying it, 
 examining it in all respects, weighing its advantages 
 and disadvantages, and at last he decided that it was 
 a good one. That same year, indeed, assisted by a 
 little capital which he had obtained no one knew how, 
 he created a new, strange, and untried profession to 
 supply a new demand. 
 
 Thus Vaudore was the first man who made heir- 
 hunting a profession. As will be generally admitted, 
 it is not a profession that can be successfully fol- 
 lowed by a craven. It requires the exercise of unusual 
 shrewdness, untiring activity, extraordinary energy and 
 courage, as well as great tact and varied knowledge. 
 The man who would follow it successfully must pos- 
 sess the boldness of a gambler, the sang-froid of a 
 duelist, the keen perceptive powers and patience of a 
 detective, and the resources and quick wit of the 
 shrewdest attorney. 
 
 It is easier to decry the profession than to exercise 
 it. To begin with, the heir-hunter must be posted up 
 with information respecting unclaimed inheritances, and 
 he must have sufficient acquaintance with the legal 
 world to be able to obtain information from the clerks 
 of the different courts, notaries, and so on. When he 
 learns that a man has died without any known heirs, 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 241 
 
 his first care is to ascertain the amount of unclaimed 
 property, to see if it will pay him to take up the case. 
 If he finds that the inheritance is a valuable one, he 
 begins operations without delay. He must first ascer- 
 tain the deceased's full name and age. It is easy to 
 ' procure this information ; but it is more difficult to 
 discover the name of the place where the deceased was 
 born, his profession, what countries he lived in, his 
 tastes and mode of life in a word, everything that 
 constitutes a complete biography. 
 
 However,, when he has armed himself with the more 
 indispensable facts, our agent opens the campaign with 
 extreme prudence, for it would be ruinous to awake 
 suspicion. It is curious to observe the incomparable 
 address which the agent displays in his efforts to learn 
 the particulars of the deceased's life, by consulting his 
 friends, his enemies, his debtors, and all who ever 
 knew him, until at last some one is found who says : 
 " Such and such a man why, he came from our part 
 of the country. I never knew him, but I am acquainted 
 with one of his brothers with one of his uncles or 
 with one of his nephews." 
 
 Very often years of constant research, a large outlay 
 of money, and costly and skilful advertising in all the 
 European journals, are necessary before this result is 
 reached. And it is only when it has been attained that 
 the agent can take time to breathe. But now the 
 chances are greatly in his favor. The worst is over. 
 The portion of his task which depended on chance alone 
 is concluded. The rest is a matter of skill, tact, and 
 shrewdness. The detective must give place to the 
 crafty lawyer. The agent must confer with this heir, 
 who has been discovered at the cost of so much time 
 and trouble, and induce him to bestow a portion of this 
 
242 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 prospective wealth on the person who is able to estab- 
 lish his claim. There must be an agreement in writ- 
 ing clearly stating what proportion a tenth, a third, 
 or a half the agent will be entitled to. The negotia- 
 tion is a very delicate and difficult one, requiring pro- 
 digious presence of mind, and an amount of duplicity 
 which would make the most astute diplomatist turn pale 
 with envy. Occasionally, the heir suspects the truth, 
 sneers at the proposition, and hurries off to claim the 
 whole of the inheritance that belongs to him. The 
 agent may then bid his hopes farewell. He has worked 
 and spent money for nothing. 
 
 However, such a misfortune is of rare occurrence. 
 On hearing of the unexpected good fortune that has 
 befallen him, the heir is generally unsuspicious, and 
 willingly promises to pay the amount demanded of him. 
 A contract is drawn up and signed; and then, but only 
 then, does the agent take his client into his confidence. 
 " You are the relative of such a person, are you not ? " 
 " Yes." " Very well. He is dead, and you are his 
 heir. Thank Providence, and make haste to claim 
 your money." 
 
 As a rule, the heir loyally fulfils his obligation. But 
 sometimes it happens that, when he has obtained undis- 
 puted possession of the property, he declares that he 
 has been swindled, and refuses to fulfil his part of the 
 contract. Then the case must go to the courts. It is 
 true, however, that the judgment of the tribunals gen- 
 erally recalls the refractory client to a sense of grati- 
 tude and humility. 
 
 Now our friend M. Isidore Fortunat was a hunter 
 of missing heirs. Undoubtedly he often engaged in 
 other business which was a trifle less respectable; but 
 heir-hunting was one of the best and most substantial 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 243 
 
 sources of his income. So we can readily understand 
 why he so quickly left off lamenting the loss of the 
 forty thousand francs lent to the Marquis de Valorsay. 
 
 Changing his tactics, he said to himself that, even if 
 he had lost this amount through M. de Chalusse's sud- 
 den death, it was much less than he might obtain if 
 he succeeded in discovering the unknown heirs to so 
 many millions. And he had some reason to hope that 
 he would be able to do so. Having been employed by 
 M. de Chalusse when the latter was seeking Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite, M. Fortunat had gained some val- 
 uable information respecting his client, and the addi- 
 tional particulars which he had obtained from Madame 
 Vantrasson elated him to such an extent that more than 
 once he exclaimed : " Ah, well ! it is, perhaps, a blessing 
 in disguise, after all/ 5 
 
 Still, M. Isidore Fortunat slept but little after his 
 stormy interview with the Marquis de Valorsay. A 
 loss of forty thousand francs is not likely to impart a 
 roseate hue to one's dreams and M. Fortunat prized 
 his money as if it had been the very marrow of his 
 bones. By way of consolation, he assured himself that 
 he would not merely regain the sum, but triple it ; and 
 yet this encouragement did not entirely restore his 
 peace of mind. The gain was only a possibility, and the 
 loss was a certainty. So he twisted, and turned, and 
 tossed on his bed as if it had been a hot gridiron, ex- 
 hausting himself in surmises, and preparing his mind 
 for the difficulties which he would be obliged to over- 
 come. 
 
 His plan was a simple one, but its execution was 
 fraught with difficulties. " I must discover M. de 
 Chalusse's sister, if she is still living I must discover 
 her children, if she is dead," he said to himself. It was 
 
244 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 easy to say this ; but how was he to do it ? How could 
 he hope to find this unfortunate girl, who had aban- 
 doned her home thirty years previously, to fly, no 
 one knew where, or with whom ? How was he to gain 
 any idea of the life she had lived, or the fate that had 
 befallen her? At what point on the social scale, and 
 in what country, should he begin his investigations? 
 These daughters of noble houses, who desert the 
 paternal roof in a moment of madness, generally die 
 most miserably after a wretched life. The girl of the 
 lower classes is armed against misfortune, and has been 
 trained for the conflict. She can measure and calculate 
 the force of her fall, and regulate and control it to a 
 certain extent. But the others cannot. They have 
 never known privation and hardship, and are, therefore, 
 defenceless. And for the very reason that they have 
 been hurled from a great height, they often fall down 
 into the lowest depths of infamy. 
 
 "If morning would only come," sighed M. Isidore 
 Fortunat, as he tossed restlessly to and fro. " As soon 
 as morning comes I will set to work ! " 
 
 But just before daybreak he fell asleep ; and at nine 
 o'clock he was still slumbering so soundly that Madame 
 Dodelin, his housekeeper, had considerable difficulty in 
 waking him. " Your clerks have come/' she exclaimed, 
 shaking him vigorously; "and two clients are waiting 
 for you in the reception-room." 
 
 He sprang up, hastily dressed himself, and went into 
 his office. It cost him no little effort to receive his 
 visitors that morning; but it would have been folly to 
 neglect all his other business for the uncertain Chalusse 
 affair. The first client who entered was a man still 
 young, of common, even vulgar appearance. Not being 
 acquainted with M. Fortunat, he deemed it proper to 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 245 
 
 introduce himself without delay. " My name is Le- 
 plaintre, and I am a coal merchant;" said he. " I was 
 recommended to call on you by my friend Bouscat, who 
 was formerly in the wine trade." 
 
 M. Fortunat bowed. " Pray be seated/' was his re- 
 ply. " I remember your friend very well. If I am not 
 mistaken I gave him some advice with reference to his 
 third failure." 
 
 " Precisely ; and it is because I find myself in the 
 same fix as Bouscat that I have called on you. Busi- 
 ness is very bad, and I have notes, to a large amount 
 overdue., so that " 
 
 "You will be obliged to go into bankruptcy." 
 
 "Alas! I fear so." 
 
 M. Fortunat already knew what his client desired, 
 but it was against his principles to meet these proposi- 
 tions more than half way. " Will you state your case ? " 
 said he. 
 
 The coal merchant blushed. It was hard to confess 
 the truth ; but the effort had to be made. " This is my 
 case," he replied, at last. " Among my creditors I 
 have several enemies, who will refuse me a release. 
 They would like to deprive me of everything I possess. 
 And in that case, what would become of me? Is it 
 right that I should be compelled to starve?" 
 
 " It is a bad outlook." 
 
 " It is, indeed, monsieur ; and for this reason, I de- 
 sire if possible, if I can do so without danger for I 
 am an honest man, monsieur I wish to retain a little 
 property secretly, of course, not for myself, by any 
 means, but I have a young wife and " 
 
 M. Fortunat took compassion on the man's embar- 
 rassment. " In short," he interrupted, " you wish to 
 conceal a part of your capital from your creditors ? " 
 
246 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 On hearing this precise and formal statement of his 
 honorable intentions, the coal-merchant trembled. His 
 feelings of integrity would not have been alarmed by a 
 periphrasis, but this plain speaking shocked him. " Oh, 
 monsieur ! " he protested, " I would rather blow my 
 brains out than defraud my creditors of a single penny 
 that was rightfully theirs. What I am doing is for 
 their interest, you understand. I shall begin business 
 again under my wife's name; and if I succeed, they 
 shall be paid yes, monsieur, every sou, with interest. 
 Ah! if I had only myself to think of, it would be 
 quite different ; but I have two children, two little girls, 
 so that " 
 
 " Very well/' replied M. Fortunat. " I should sug- 
 gest to you the same expedient as I suggested to your 
 friend Bouscat. But you must gather a little ready 
 money together before going into bankruptcy." 
 
 " I can do that by secretly disposing of a part of 
 my stock, so " 
 
 " In that case, you are saved. Sell it and put the 
 money beyond your creditors' reach." 
 
 The worthy merchant scratched his ear in evident 
 perplexity. " Excuse me," said he. " I had thought 
 of this plan ; but it seemed to me dishonorable and 
 also very dangerous. How could I explain this de- 
 crease in my stock? My creditors hate me. If they 
 suspected anything, they would accuse me of fraud, 
 and perhaps throw me into prison; and then " 
 
 M. Fortunat shrugged his shoulders. " When I give 
 advice," he roughly replied, " I furnish the means of 
 following it without danger. Listen to me attentively. 
 Let us suppose, for a moment, that some time ago you 
 purchased, at a very high figure, a quantity of stocks 
 and shares, which are to-day almost worthless, could 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 247 
 
 not this unfortunate investment account for the ab- 
 sence of the sum which you wish to set aside? Your 
 creditors would be obliged to value these securities, not 
 at their present, but at their former value." 
 
 " Evidently ; but, unfortunately, I do not possess any 
 such securities." 
 
 " You can purchase them." 
 
 The coal-merchant opened his eyes in astonishment. 
 " Excuse me/' he muttered, " I don't exactly under- 
 stand you." 
 
 He did not understand in the least; but M. Fortunat 
 enlightened him by opening his safe, and displaying an 
 enormous bundle of stocks and shares which had 
 flooded the country a few years previously, and ruined 
 a great many poor, ignorant fools which were hunger- 
 ing for wealth; among them were shares in the Tifila 
 Mining Company, the Berchem Coal Mines, the Green- 
 land Fisheries, the Mutual Trust and Loan Associa- 
 tion, and so on. There had been a time when each of 
 these securities would have fetched five hundred or a 
 thousand francs at the Bourse, but now they were not 
 worth the paper on which they were printed. 
 
 " Let us suppose, my dear sir," resumed M. For- 
 tunat, "that you had a drawer full of these securi- 
 ties " 
 
 But the other did not allow him to finish. " I see," 
 he exclaimed ; " I see I can sell my stock, and put 
 the proceeds in my pocket with perfect safety. There is 
 enough to represent my capital a thousand times over." 
 
 And, in a paroxysm of delight, he added : 
 
 " Give me enough of these shares to represent a cap- 
 ital of one hundred and twenty thousand francs; and 
 give me some of each kind. I should like my creditors 
 to have a variety." 
 
248 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 Thereupon M. Fortunat counted out a pile of these 
 worthless securities as carefully as if he had been 
 handling bank-notes; and his client at the same time 
 drew out his pocketbook. 
 
 " How much do I owe you ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Three thousand francs." 
 
 The honest merchant bounded from his chair. " Three 
 thousand francs ! " he repeated. " You must be jest- 
 ing. That trash is not worth a louis." 
 
 " I would not even give five francs for it/' rejoined 
 M. Fortunat, coldly; "but it is true that I don't desire 
 to purchase these shares in my creditors' interest. With 
 you it is quite a different matter this trash, as you 
 very justly call it, will save you at least a hundred 
 thousand francs. I ask only three per cent., which is 
 certainly not dear. Still, you know, I don't force any 
 one to purchase them." And, in a terribly significant 
 tone, he added : " You can undoubtedly buy similar se- 
 curities on better terms ; but take care you don't arouse 
 your creditors' suspicions by applying elsewhere." 
 
 " He would betray me, the scoundrel ! " thought the 
 merchant. And, realizing that he had fallen into a trap, 
 " Here are three thousand francs," he sighed ; " but at 
 least, my dear sir, give me good measure, and throw in 
 a few thousand francs more." 
 
 The coal-merchant smiled the ghastly smile of a man 
 who sees no way of escape from imposition, and has, 
 therefore, resolved to submit with the best grace possi- 
 ble. But M. Fortunat's gravity did not relax. He gave 
 what he had promised neither more nor less in ex- 
 change for the bank-notes, and even gravely exclaimed : 
 " See if the amount is correct." 
 
 His client pocketed the shares without counting 
 them ; but before leaving the room he made his estima- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 249 
 
 ble adviser promise to assist him at the decisive mo- 
 ment, and help him to prepare one of those clear finan- 
 cial statements which make creditors say : " This is an 
 honest man who has been extremely unfortunate." 
 
 M. Fortunat was admirably fitted to render this little 
 service; for he devoted such part of his time as was 
 not spent in hunting for missing heirs to difficult liqui- 
 dations, and he had indeed made bankruptcy a specialty 
 in which he was without a rival. The business was a 
 remunerative one, thanks to the expedient he had re- 
 vealed to the coal-merchant an expedient which is 
 common enough nowadays, but of which he might 
 almost be called the inventor. It consisted in com- 
 pelling the persons who asked for his advice to pur- 
 chase worthless shares at whatever price he chose to 
 set upon them, and they were forced to submit, under 
 penalty of denunciation and exposure. 
 
 The client who followed the coal-merchant proved 
 to be a simple creature, who had called to ask for some 
 advice respecting a slight difficulty between himself and 
 his landlord. M. Fortunat speedily disposed of him, 
 and then, opening the door leading into the outer office, 
 he called : " Cashier ! " 
 
 A shabbily-dressed man, some thirty-five years of 
 age, at once entered the private sanctum, carrying a 
 money-bag in one hand and a ledger in the other. 
 
 " How many debtors were visited yesterday ? " in- 
 quired M. Fortunat. 
 
 "Two hundred and thirty-seven." 
 
 "What was the amount collected?" 
 
 " Eighty-nine francs." 
 
 M. Isidore Fortunat's grimace was expressive 
 of satisfaction. "Not bad," said he, "not at all 
 bad." 
 
250 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 Then a singular performance began. M. Fortunat 
 called over the names of his debtors, one by one, and 
 the cashier answered each name by reading a memor- 
 andum written against it on the margin of a list he 
 held. " Such a one," said the agent, " and such a 
 
 one and such " Whereupon the cashier replied: 
 
 " Has paid two francs was not at home paid twenty 
 sous would not pay anything/' 
 
 How did it happen that M. Fortunat had so many 
 debtors? This question can be easily answered. In 
 settling bankrupts' estates it was easy for him to pur- 
 chase a large number of debts which were considered 
 worthless, at a trifling cost, and he reaped a bountiful 
 harvest on a field which would have yielded nothing to 
 another person. It was not because he was rigorous 
 in his demands; he conquered by patience, gentleness, ( 
 and politeness, but also by unwearying perseverance 
 and tenacity. When he decided that a debtor was to 
 pay him a certain sum, it was paid. He never relaxed 
 in his efforts. Every other day some one was sent 
 to visit the debtor, to follow him, and harass him; he 
 was surrounded by M. Fortunat's agents; they pur- 
 sued him to his office, shop, or cafe everywhere, con- 
 tinually, incessantly and always with the most perfect 
 urbanity. At last even the most determined suc- 
 cumbed; to escape this frightful persecution, they, 
 somehow or other, found the money to satisfy M. 
 Fortunat's claim. Besides Victor Chupin, he had five 
 other agents whose business it was to visit these poor 
 wretches. A list was assigned to each man every 
 morning; and when evening came, he made his 
 report to the cashier, who in turn reported 
 to his employer. This branch of industry added 
 considerably to the profits of M. Fortunat's 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 251 
 
 other business, and was the third and last string to 
 his bow. 
 
 The report proceeded as usual, but it was quite evi- 
 dent that M. Fortunat's thoughts were elsewhere. He 
 paused each moment to listen eagerly for the slightest 
 sound outside, for before receiving the coal-merchant 
 he had told Victor Chupin to run to the Rue de Cour- 
 celles and ask M. Casimir for news of the Count de 
 Chalusse. He had done this more than an hour before ; 
 and Victor Chupin, who was usually so prompt, had 
 not yet made his appearance. 
 
 At last, however, he returned, whereupon M. For- 
 tunat dismissed the cashier, and addressed his mes- 
 senger : Well ?" he asked. 
 
 " He is no longer living. They think he died without 
 a will, and that the pretty young lady will be turned 
 out of the house." 
 
 This information agreed so perfectly with M. For- 
 tunat's presentiments that he did not even wince, but 
 calmly asked: "Will Casimir keep his appointment?" 
 
 " He told me that he would endeavor to come, and 
 Fd wager a hundred to one that he will be there; he 
 would travel ten leagues to put something good into 
 his stomach." 
 
 M. Fortunat's opinion coincided with Chupin's. 
 "Very well," said he. "Only you were a long time 
 on the road, Victor." 
 
 "That's true, m'sieur; but I had a little matter of 
 my own to attend to a matter of a hundred francs, if 
 you please." 
 
 M. Fortunat knit his brows angrily. " It's only right 
 to attend to business," said he; "but you think too 
 much of money, Victor altogether too much. You 
 are insatiable." 
 
252 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 The young man proudly lifted his head, and with an 
 air of importance, replied : " I have so many responsi- 
 bilities 
 
 " Responsibilities ! you ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed, m'sieur. And why not? My poor, 
 good mother hasn't been able to work for a year, and 
 who would care for her if I didn't? Certainly not my 
 father, the good-for-nothing scamp, who squandered all 
 the Duke de Sairmeuse's money without giving us a 
 sou of it. Besides, I'm like other men, I'm anxious to 
 be rich, and enjoy myself. I should like to ride in my 
 carriage like other people do. And whenever a gamin, 
 such as I was once, opened the door for me, I should 
 put a five-franc piece in his hand " 
 
 He was interrupted by Madame Dodelin, the worthy 
 housekeeper, who rushed Into the room without knock- 
 ing, in a terrible state of excitement. " Monsieur ! " 
 she exclaimed, in the same tone as if she would 
 have called " Fire ! " " here is Monsieur de Val- 
 orsay." 
 
 M. Fortunat sprang up and turned extremely pale. 
 " What to the devil brings him here ? " he anxiously 
 stammered. " Tell him that I've gone out tell him " 
 
 But it was useless, for the marquis at that very mo- 
 ment entered the room, and the agent could only dis- 
 miss his housekeeper and Chupin. 
 
 M. de Valorsay seemed to be very angry, and it 
 looked as if he meant to give vent to his passion. In- 
 deed, as soon as he was alone with M. Fortunat, he 
 began : " So this is the way you betray your friends, 
 Master Twenty-per-Cent ! Why did you deceive me 
 last night about the ten thousand francs you had prom- 
 ised me? Why didn't you tell me the truth? You 
 knew of the misfortune that had befallen M. de Cha- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 253 
 
 lusse. I heard of it first scarcely an hour ago through 
 a letter from Madame Leon." 
 
 M. Fortunat hesitated somewhat. He was a quiet 
 man, opposed to violence of any kind ; and it seemed to 
 him that M. de Valorsay was twisting and turning his 
 cane in a most ominous manner. ^ I must confess, 
 Monsieur le Marquis/' he at last replied, "that I had 
 not the courage to tell you of the dreadful misfortune 
 which had befallen us." 
 
 How us? " 
 
 " Certainly. If you lose the hope of several millions, 
 I also lose the amount I advanced to you, forty thou- 
 sand francs my entire fortune. And yet, you see that 
 I don't complain. Do as I do confess that the game 
 is lost." 
 
 The marquis was listening with an air of suppressed 
 wrath; his face was crimson, there was a dark frown 
 on his brow, and his hands were clinched. He was ap- 
 parently furious with passion, but in reality he was 
 perfectly self-possessed. The best proof that can be 
 given of his coolness is that he was carefully studying 
 M. Fortunat's face, and trying to discover the agent's 
 real intentions under his meaningless words. He had 
 expected to find " his dear extortioner " exasperated 
 by his loss, cursing and swearing, and demanding his 
 money but not at all. He found him more gentle and 
 calm, colder and more reserved than ever; brimful of 
 resignation indeed, and preaching submission to the 
 inevitable. " What can this mean ? " he thought, with 
 an anxious heart. "What mischief is the scoundrel 
 plotting now? I'd wager a thousand to one that he's 
 forging some thunderbolt to crush me." And, in a 
 haughty tone, he said aloud: 
 
 " In a word, you desert me." 
 
254 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 With a deprecatory gesture, M. Fortunat exclaimed: 
 " I desert you, Monsieur le Marquis ! What have I 
 done that you should think so ill of me ? Alas ! cir- 
 cumstances are the only traitors. I shouldn't like to 
 deprive you of the courage you so much need, but, hon- 
 estly, it would be folly to struggle against destiny. How 
 can you hope to succeed in your plans ? Have you not 
 resorted to every possible expedient to prolong your 
 apparently brilliant existence until the present time? 
 Are you not at such a point that you must marry 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite in a month's time, or perish? 
 And now the count's millions are lost ! If I might be 
 allowed to give you some advice, I should say, f The 
 shipwreck is inevitable; think only of saving yourself.' 
 By tact and shrewdness, you might yet save something 
 from your creditors. Compromise with them. And 
 if you need my services, here I am. Go to Nice, and 
 give me a power of attorney to act for you. From the 
 debris of your fortune, I will undertake to guarantee 
 you a competence which would satisfy many an ambi- 
 tious man." 
 
 The marquis laughed sneeringly. " Excellent ! " he 
 exclaimed. "You would rid yourself of me and re- 
 cover your forty thousand francs at the same time. A 
 very clever arrangement." 
 
 M. Fortunat realized that his client understood him; 
 but what did it matter ? " I assure you " he began. 
 
 But the marquis silenced him with a contemptuous 
 gesture. " Let us stop this nonsense," said he. " We 
 understand each other better than that. I have never 
 made any attempt to deceive you, nor have I ever sup- 
 posed that I had succeeded in doing so, and pray do 
 me the honor to consider me as shrewd as yourself." 
 And still refusing to listen to the agent, he continued : 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 255 
 
 " If I have come to you,, it is only because the case is 
 not so desperate as you suppose. I still hold some val- 
 uable cards which you are ignorant of. In your opin- 
 ion, and every one else's, Mademoiselle Marguerite is 
 ruined. But I know that she is still worth three mil- 
 lions, at the very least." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Marguerite ? " 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur Twenty-per-Cent. Let her become 
 my wife, and the very next day I will place her in pos- 
 session of an income of a hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs. But she must marry me first ; and this scornful 
 maiden will not grant me her hand unless I can con- 
 vince her of my love and disinterestedness." 
 
 " But your rival ? " 
 
 M. de Valorsay gave a nervous start, but quickly 
 controlled himself. " He no longer exists. Read this 
 day's Figaro, and you will be edified. I have no rival 
 now. If I can only conceal my financial embarrass- 
 ment a little longer, she is mine. A friendless and 
 homeless girl cannot defend herself long in Paris 
 especially when she has an adviser like Madame Leon. 
 Oh ! I shall win her ! I shall have her ! she is a neces- 
 sity to me. Now you can judge if it would be wise on 
 your part to deprive me of your assistance. Would 
 you like to know what I want? Simply this the 
 means to sustain me two or three months longer some 
 thirty thousand francs. You can procure the money 
 will you? It would make, in all, seventy thousand 
 francs that I should owe you, and I will promise to 
 pay you two hundred and fifty thousand if I suc- 
 ceed and I shall succeed ! Such profit is worth 
 some risk. Reflect, and decide. But no more sub- 
 terfuges, if you please. Let your answer be plain yes 
 
256 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 Without a second's hesitation, M. Fortunat replied, 
 " No." 
 
 The flush on the marquis's face deepened, and his 
 voice became a trifle harsher ; but that was all. " Con- 
 fess, then, that you have resolved to ruin me," he said, 
 " You refuse before you have heard me to the end. 
 Wait, at least, until I have told you my plans, and 
 shown you the solid foundation which my hopes rest 
 upon." 
 
 But M. Fortunat had resolved to listen to nothing. 
 He wished for no explanations, so distrustful was he 
 of himself so much did he fear that his adventurous 
 nature would urge him to incur further risk. He was 
 positively afraid of the Marquis de Valorsay's elo- 
 quence; besides, he knew well enough that the person 
 who consents to listen is at least half convinced. " Tell 
 me nothing, monsieur," he hastily answered ; " it would 
 be useless. I haven't the money. If I had given you 
 ten thousand francs last night, I should have been 
 compelled to borrow them of M. Prosper Bertomy. 
 And even if I had the money, I should still say ' Im- 
 possible.' Every man has his system his theory, you 
 know. Mine is, never to run after my money. With 
 me, whatever I may lose, I regard it as finally lost; I 
 think no more about it, and turn to something else. 
 So your forty thousand francs have already been en- 
 tered on my profit and loss account. And yet it would 
 be easy enough for you to repay me, if you would fol- 
 low my advice and go quietly into bankruptcy." 
 
 " Never ! " interrupted M. de Valorsay ; " never ! I 
 do not wish to temporize," he continued. " I will save 
 all, or save nothing. If you refuse me your help, I 
 shall apply elsewhere. I will never give my good 
 friends, who detest me, and whom I cordially hate in 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 257 
 
 return, the delicious joy of seeing the Marquis de Val- 
 orsay fall step by step from the high position he has 
 occupied. I will never truckle to the men whom I have 
 eclipsed for fifteen years. No, never ! I would rather 
 die, or even commit the greatest crime ! " 
 
 He suddenly checked himself, a trifle astonished, per- 
 haps, by his own plain-speaking; and, for a moment, 
 he and M. Fortunat looked into each other's eyes, striv- 
 ing to divine their respective secret thoughts. 
 
 The marquis was the first to speak. " And so," said 
 he, in a tone which he strove to make persuasive, but 
 which was threatening instead, " it is settled your de- 
 cision is final?" 
 
 " Final." 
 
 " You will not even condescend to listen to my ex- 
 planation ? " 
 
 " It would be a loss of time/' 
 
 On receiving this cruel reply, M. de Valorsay struck 
 the desk such a formidable blow with his clenched fist 
 that several bundles of papers fell to the floor. His 
 anger was not feigned now. " What are you plotting, 
 then ? " he exclaimed ; " and what do you intend to do ? 
 What is your object in betraying me? Take care! It 
 is my life that I am going to defend, and as truly as 
 there is a God in heaven, I shall defend it well. A 
 man who is determined to blow his brains out if he is 
 defeated, is a terribly dangerous adversary. Woe to 
 you, if I ever find you standing between me and the 
 Count de Chalusse's millions ! " 
 
 Every drop of blood had fled from M. Fortunat's 
 face, still his mien was composed and dignified. " You 
 do wrong to threaten me," said he. " I don't fear you 
 in the least. If I were your enemy, I should bring 
 suit against you for the forty thousand francs you owe 
 
258 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 me. I should not obtain my money, of course, but I 
 could shatter the tottering edifice of your fortune by a 
 single blow. Besides, you forget that I possess a copy 
 of our agreement, signed by your own hand, and that I 
 have only to show it to Mademoiselle Marguerite to 
 give her a just opinion of your disinterestedness. Let 
 us sever our connection now, monsieur, and each go 
 his own way without reference to the other. If you 
 should succeed you will repay me." 
 
 Victory perched upon the agent's banner, and it was 
 with a feeling of pride that he saw his noble client 
 depart, white and speechless with rage. " What a ras- 
 cal that marquis is," he muttered. " I would certainly 
 warn Mademoiselle Marguerite, poor girl, if I were not 
 so much afraid of him/' 
 
 XIV, 
 
 M. CASIMIR, the deceased Count de Chalusse's valet, 
 was neither better nor worse than most of his fellows. 
 Old men tell us that there formerly existed a race of 
 faithful servants, who considered themselves a part 
 of the family that employed them, and who unhesi- 
 tatingly embraced its interests and its ideas. At the 
 same time their masters requited their devotion by 
 efficacious protection and provision for the future. But 
 such masters and such servants are nowadays only 
 found in the old melodramas performed at the Ambigu, 
 in " The Emigre/' for instance, or in " The Last of 
 the Chateauvieux." At present servants wander from 
 one house to another, looking on their abode as a mere 
 inn where they may find shelter till they are disposed 
 for another journey. And families receive them as 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 259 
 
 transient, and not unfrequently as dangerous, guests, 
 whom it is always wise to treat with distrust. The key 
 of the wine-cellar is not confided to these unreliable 
 inmates; they are intrusted with the charge of little 
 else than the children a practice which is often pro- 
 ductive of terrible results. 
 
 M. Casimir was no doubt honest, in the strict sense 
 of the word. He would have scorned to rob his master 
 of a ten-sous piece; and yet he would not have hesi- 
 tated in the least to defraud him of a hundred francs, 
 if an opportunity had presented itself. Vain and ra- 
 pacious in disposition, he consoled himself by refusing 
 to obey any one save his employer, by envying him with 
 his whole heart, and by cursing fate for not having 
 made him the Count de Chalusse instead of the Count 
 de Chalusse's servant. As he received high wages, he 
 served passably well ; but he employed the best part of 
 his energy in watching the count. He scented some 
 great family secret in the household, and he felt angry 
 and humiliated that this secret had not been intrusted 
 to his discretion. And if he had discovered nothing, it 
 was because M. de Chalusse had been caution personi- 
 fied, as Madame Leon had declared. 
 
 Thus it happened that when M. Casimir saw Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite and the count searching in the 
 garden for the fragments of a letter destroyed in a 
 paroxysm of rage which he had personally witnessed, 
 his natural curiosity was heightened to such a degree as 
 to become unendurable. He would have given a 
 month's wages, and something over, to have known the 
 contents of that letter, the fragments of which were 
 being so carefully collected by the count. And when he 
 heard M. de Chalusse tell Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 that the most important part of the letter was still lack- 
 
260 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 ing, and saw his master relinquish his fruitless search, 
 the worthy valet vowed that he would be more skilful 
 or more fortunate than his master ; and after diligent ef- 
 fort, he actually succeeded in recovering five tiny scraps 
 of paper, which had been blown into the shrubbery. 
 
 They were covered with delicate handwriting, a 
 lady's unquestionably; but he was utterly unable to 
 extract the slightest meaning from them. Neverthe- 
 less, he preserved them with jealous care, and was 
 careful not to say that he had found them. The inco- 
 herent words which he had deciphered on these scraps 
 of paper mixed strangely in his brain, and he grew 
 more and more anxious to learn what connection there 
 was between this letter and the count's attack. This 
 explains his extreme readiness to search the count's 
 clothes when Mademoiselle Marguerite told him to 
 look for the key of the escritoire. And fortune favored 
 him, for he not only found the key, but he also dis- 
 covered the torn fragments of the letter, and having 
 crumpled them up in the palm of his hand, he con- 
 trived to slip them into his pocket. Fruitless dexterity ! 
 M. Casimir had joined these scraps to the fragments he 
 had found himself, he had read and re-read the epistle, 
 but it told him nothing; or, at least, the information it 
 conveyed was so vague and incomplete that it height- 
 ened his curiosity all the more. Once he almost de- 
 cided to give the letter to Mademoiselle Marguerite, 
 but he resisted this impulse, saying to himself: "Ah, 
 no ; I'm not such a fool ! It might be of use to her." 
 
 And M. Casimir had no desire to be of service to this 
 unhappy girl, who had always treated him with kind- 
 ness. He hated her, under the pretence that she was 
 not in her proper place, that no one knew who or what 
 she was, and that it was absurd that he he, Casimir 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 261 
 
 should be compelled to receive orders from her. The 
 infamous slander which Mademoiselle Marguerite had 
 overheard on her way home from church, " There goes 
 the rich Count de Chalusse's mistress/' was M. Casi- 
 mir's work. He had sworn to be avenged on this 
 haughty creature; and no one can say what he might 
 have attempted, if it had not been for the intervention 
 of the magistrate. Imperatively called to order, M. 
 Casimir consoled himself by the thought that the mag- 
 istrate had intrusted him with eight thousand francs 
 and the charge of the establishment. Nothing could 
 have pleased him better. First and foremost, it 
 afforded him a magnificent opportunity to display his 
 authority and act the master, and it also enabled him 
 to carry out his compact with Victor Chupin, and repair 
 to the rendezvous which M. Isidore Fortunat had ap- 
 pointed. 
 
 Leaving his comrades to watch the magistrate's oper- 
 ations, he sent M. Bourigeau to report the count's death 
 at the district mayor's office, and then lighting a cigar 
 he walked out of the house, and strolled leisurely up 
 the Rue de Courcelles. The place appointed for his 
 meeting with M. Fortunat was on the Boulevard 
 Haussmann, almost opposite Binder's, the famous car- 
 riage builder. Although it was rather a wine-shop 
 than a restaurant, a capital breakfast could be obtained 
 there as M. Casimir had ascertained to his satisfaction 
 several times before. " Has no one called for me ? " 
 he asked, as he went in. 
 
 " No one." 
 
 He consulted his watch, and evinced considerable 
 surprise. " Not yet noon ! " he exclaimed. " I'm in ad- 
 vance; and as that is the case, give me a glass of 
 absinthe and a newspaper." 
 
262 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 He was obeyed with far more alacrity than his de- 
 ceased master had ever required him to show, and he 
 forthwith plunged into the report of the doings at the 
 Bourse, with the eagerness of a man who has an all- 
 sufficient reason for his anxiety in a drawer at home. 
 Having emptied one glass of absinthe, he was about to 
 order a second, when he felt a tap on the shoulder, and 
 on turning round he beheld M. Isidore Fortunat. 
 
 In accordance with his wont, the agent was attired 
 in a style of severe elegance with gloves and boots 
 fitting him to perfection but an unusually winning 
 smile played upon his lips. " You see I have been 
 waiting for you," exclaimed M. Casimir. 
 
 "I am late, it's true," replied M. Fortunat, "but 
 we will do our best to make up for lost time; for, I 
 trust, you will do me the honor of breakfasting with 
 me?" 
 
 " Really, I don't know that I ought." 
 
 "Yes, yes, you must. They will give us a private 
 room; we must have a talk." 
 
 It was certainly not for the pleasure of the thing that 
 M. Fortunat cultivated M. Casimir's acquaintance, and 
 entertained him at breakfast. M. Fortunat, who was 
 a very proud man, considered this connection somewhat 
 beneath his dignity; but at first, circumstances, and 
 afterward interest, had required him to overcome his 
 repugnance. It was through the Count de Chalusse 
 that he had made M. Casimir's acquaintance. While 
 the count was employing the agent he had frequently 
 sent his valet to him with messages and letters. Nat- 
 urally, M. Casimir had talked on these occasions, and 
 the agent had listened to him; hence this superficial 
 friendship. Subsequently when the marriage contem- 
 plated by the Marquis de Valorsay was in course of 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 263 
 
 preparation,, M. Fortunat had profited of the oppor- 
 tunity to make the count's servant his spy; and it had 
 been easy to find a pretext for continuing the acquaint- 
 ance, as M. Casimir was a speculator, or rather a 
 dabbler in stocks and shares. So, whenever he needed 
 information, M. Fortunat invited M. Casimir to break- 
 fast, knowing the potent influence of a good bottle of 
 wine offered at the right moment. It is needless to say 
 that he exercised uncommon care in the composition of 
 the menu on a day like this when his future course de- 
 pended, perhaps, on a word more or less. 
 
 M. Casimir's eye sparkled as he took his seat at the 
 table opposite his entertainer. The crafty agent had 
 chosen a little room looking out on to the boulevard. 
 Not that it was more spacious or elegant than the 
 others, but it was isolated, and this was a very great 
 advantage; for every one knows how unsafe and per- 
 fidious are those so-called private rooms which are 
 merely separated from each other by a thin partition, 
 scarcely thicker than a sheet of paper. It was not long 
 before M. Fortunat had reason to congratulate him- 
 self on his foresight, for the breakfast began with a 
 dish of shrimps, and M. Casimir had not finished his 
 twelfth, washed down by a glass of chablis, before he 
 declared that he could see no impropriety in confiding 
 certain things to a friend. 
 
 The events of the morning had completely turned his 
 head; and gratified vanity and good cheer excited him 
 to such a degree that he discoursed with unwonted 
 volubility. With total disregard of prudence, he talked 
 with inexcusable freedom of the Count de Chalusse, 
 and M. de Valorsay, and especially of his enemy, Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite. "For it is she," he exclaimed, 
 rapping on the table with his knife " it is she who has 
 
264 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 taken the missing millions ! How she did it, no one 
 will ever know, for she has not an equal in craftiness ; 
 but it's she who has stolen them, Tin sure of it! I 
 would have taken my oath to that effect before the 
 magistrate, and I would have proved it, too, if he 
 hadn't taken her part because she's pretty for she is 
 devilishly pretty." 
 
 Even if M. Fortunat had wished to put in a word or 
 two, he could have found no opportunity. But his 
 guest's loquacity did not displease him; it gave him 
 an opportunity for reflection. Strange thoughts arose 
 in his mind, and connecting M. Casimir's affirmations 
 with the assurances of the Marquis de Valorsay, he 
 was amazed at the coincidence. " It's very singular ! " 
 Tie thought. " Has this girl really stolen the money ? 
 and has the marquis discovered the fact through 
 Madame Leon, and determined to profit by the theft? 
 In that case, I may get my money back, after all! I 
 must look into the matter." 
 
 A partridge and a bottle of Pomard followed the 
 shrimps and chablis; and M. Casimir's loquacity in- 
 creased, and his voice rose higher and higher. He 
 wandered from one absurd story to another, and from 
 slander to slander, until suddenly, and without the 
 slightest warning, he began to speak of the mysterious 
 letter which he considered the undoubted cause of the 
 count's illness. 
 
 At the first word respecting this missive, M. For- 
 tunat started violently. " Nonsense ! " said he, with an 
 incredulous air. " Why the devil should this letter 
 have had such an influence?" 
 
 " I don't know. But it is certain it had." And, in 
 support of his assertion, he told M. Fortunat how the 
 count had destroyed the letter almost without reading 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 265 
 
 it, and how he had afterward searched for the frag- 
 ments, in order to find an address it had contained. 
 "And Fm quite sure/' said the valet, "that the count 
 intended to apply to you for the address of the person 
 who wrote the letter/' 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " 
 
 " As sure as I am of drinking Pomard ! " exclaimed 
 M. Casimir, draining his glass. 
 
 Rarely had the agent experienced such emotion. He 
 did not doubt but what this missive contained the solu- 
 tion of the mystery. "Were the scraps of this letter 
 found ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have them/' cried the valet, triumphantly. (C I 
 have them in my pocket, and, what's more, I have the 
 whole of them ! " 
 
 This declaration made M. Fortunat turn pale with 
 delight. " Indeed indeed ! " said he ; " it must be a 
 strange production." 
 
 His companion pursed up his lips disdainfully. " May 
 be so, may be not/' he retorted. " It's impossible to 
 understand a word of it. The only thing certain about 
 it is that it was written by a woman." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Yes, by a former mistress, undoubtedly. And, nat- 
 urally, she asks for money for a child. Women of that 
 class always do so. They've tried the game with me 
 more than a dozen times, but I'm not so easily caught." 
 And bursting with vanity, he related three or four love 
 affairs in which, according to his own account, he must 
 have played a most ignoble part. 
 
 If M. Fortunat's chair had been a gridiron, heated by 
 an excellent fire, he could not have felt more uncom- 
 fortable. After pouring out bumper after' bumper for 
 his guest, he perceived that he had gone too far, and 
 
266 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 that it would not be easy to check him. "And this 
 letter?" he interrupted, at last 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You promised to let me read it." 
 
 "That's true that's quite true; but it would be as 
 well to have some mocha first, would it not? What if 
 we ordered some mocha, eh?" 
 
 Coffee was served, and when the waiter had closed 
 the door, M. Casimir drew the letter, the scraps of 
 which were fixed together, from his pocket, and un- 
 folded it, saying : " Attention ; Pm going to read." 
 
 This did not suit M. Fortunat's fancy. He would 
 infinitely have preferred perusing it himself; but it is 
 impossible to argue with an intoxicated man, and so 
 M. Casimir with a more and more indistinct enuncia- 
 tion read as follows: "' Paris, October 14, 186.' So 
 the lady lives in Paris, as usual. After this she puts 
 neither ' monsieur/ nor ' my friend/ nor ' dear count/ 
 nothing at all. She begins abruptly : ( Once before, 
 many years ago, I came to you as a suppliant. You 
 were pitiless, and did not even deign to answer me. 
 And yet, as I told you, I was on the verge of a terrible 
 precipice ; my brain was reeling, vertigo had seized hold 
 of me. Deserted, I was wandering about Paris, home- 
 less and penniless, and my child was starving ! ' ; 
 
 M. Casimir paused to laugh. "That's like all the 
 rest of them," he exclaimed ; " that is exactly like all 
 the rest! I've ten such letters in my drawer, even 
 more imperative in their demands. If you'll come home 
 with me after breakfast, I'll show them to you. We'll 
 have a hearty laugh over them ! " 
 
 " Let us finish this first." 
 
 "Of course." And he resumed: " ' If I had been 
 alone, I should not have hesitated. I was so wretched 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 267 
 
 that death seemed a refuge to me. But what was to 
 become of my child? Should I kill him, and destroy 
 myself afterward ? I thought of doing so, but I lacked 
 the courage. And what I implored you in pity to give 
 me, was rightfully mine. I had only to present myself 
 at your house and demand it. Alas ! I did not know 
 that then. I believed myself bound by a solemn oath, 
 and you inspired me with inexpressible terror. And 
 still I could not see my child die of starvation before 
 my very eyes. So I abandoned myself to my fate, and 
 I have sunk so low that I have been obliged to separate 
 from my son. He must not know the shame to which 
 he owes his livelihood. And he is ignorant even of 
 my existence/ * 
 
 M. Fortunat was as motionless as if he had been 
 turned to stone. After the information he had obtained 
 respecting the count's past, and after the story told 
 him by Madame Vantrasson, he could scarcely doubt. 
 " This letter," he thought, " can only be from Mademoi- 
 selle Hermine de Chalusse." 
 
 However, M. Casimir resumed his reading: "'It 
 I apply to you again, if from the depth of infamy into 
 which I have fallen, I again call upon you for help, it 
 is because I am at the end of my resources because, 
 before I die, I must see my son's future assured. It 
 is not a fortune that I ask for him, but sufficient to live 
 upon, and I expect to receive it from you/ ' ; 
 
 Once more the valet paused in his perusal of the 
 letter to remark: "There it is again sufficient to live 
 upon, and I expect to receive it from you ! Excellent ! 
 Women are remarkable creatures, upon my word ! But 
 listen to the rest ! ' It is absolutely necessary that I 
 should see you as soon as possible. Oblige me, there- 
 fore, by calling to-morrow, October 15th, at the Hotel 
 
268 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 de Homburg, in the Rue du Helder. You will ask for 
 Madame Lucy Huntley, and they will conduct you to 
 me. I shall expect you from three o'clock to six. Come. 
 I implore you, come. It is painful to me to add that 
 if I do not hear from you, I am resolved to demand 
 and obtain no matter what may be the consequences 
 the means which I have, so far, asked of you on my 
 bended knees and with clasped hands.' '' 
 
 Having finished the letter, M. Casimir laid it on the 
 table, and poured out a glassful of brandy, which he 
 drained at a single draught. "And that's all," he re- 
 marked. " No signature not even an initial. It was 
 a so-called respectable woman who wrote that. They 
 never sign their notes, the hussies! for fear of com- 
 promising themselves, as I've reason to know." And 
 so saying, he laughed the idiotic laugh of a man who 
 has been drinking immoderately. " If I had time," he 
 resumed, " I should make some inquiries about this 
 Madame Lucy Huntley a feigned name, evidently. I 
 
 should like to know But what's the matter with 
 
 you, Monsieur Fortunat? You are as pale as death. 
 Are you ill?" 
 
 To tell the truth, the agent did look as if he were in- 
 disposed. " Thanks," he stammered. " I'm very well, 
 only I just remembered that some one is waiting for 
 me." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " A client." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " rejoined the valet ; " make some ex- 
 cuse; let him go about his business. Aren't you rich 
 enough? Pour us out another glass of wine; it will 
 make you all right again." 
 
 M. Fortunat complied, but he performed the task so 
 awkwardly, or, rather, so skilfully, that he drew toward 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 269 
 
 him, with his sleeve, the letter which was lying beside 
 M. Casimir' s plate. " To your health/' said the valet. 
 "To yours," replied M. Fortunat. And in drawing 
 back the arm he had extended to chink glasses with his 
 guest, he caused the letter to fall on his knees. 
 
 M. Casimir, who had not observed this successful 
 manoeuvre, was trying to light his cigar; and while 
 vainly consuming a large quantity of matches in the 
 attempt, he exclaimed : " What you just said, my 
 friend, means that you would like to desert me. That 
 won't do, my dear fellow ! You are going home with 
 me; and I will read you some love-letters from a 
 woman of the world. Then we will go to Mourloup's, 
 and play a game of billiards. That's the place to enjoy 
 one's self. You'll see Joseph, of the Commarin house- 
 hold, a splendid comedian." 
 
 " Very well ; but first I must settle the score here." 
 
 "Yes, pay." 
 
 M. Fortunat rang for his bill. He had obtained 
 more information than he expected; he had the letter 
 in his pocket, and he had now only one desire, to rid 
 himself of M. Casimir. But this was no easy task. 
 Drunken men cling tenaciously to their friends; and 
 M. Fortunat was asking himself what strategy he 
 could employ, when the waiter entered, and said: 
 " There's a very light-complexioned man here, who 
 looks as if he were a huissier's clerk. He wishes to 
 speak with you, gentlemen." 
 
 "Ah! it's Chupin!" exclaimed the valet. "He is 
 a friend. Let him come in, and bring us another glass. 
 ' The more the merrier,' as the saying goes." 
 
 What could Chupin want? M. Fortunat had no 
 idea, but he was none the less grateful for his coming, 
 being determined to hand this troublesome Casimir 
 
270 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 over to his keeping. On entering the room Chupin 
 realized the valet's condition at the first glance, and his 
 face clouded. He bowed politely to M. Fortunat, but 
 addressed Casimir in an extremely discontented tone. 
 "It's three o'clock/' said he, "and I've come, as 
 we agreed, to arrange with you about the count's 
 funeral." 
 
 These words had the effect of a cold shower-bath on 
 M. Casimir. "Upon my word, I had forgotten for- 
 gotten entirely, upon my word ! " And the thought of 
 his condition, and the responsibility he had accepted, 
 coming upon him at the same time, he continued: 
 " Good Heavens ! I'm in a nice state ! It is all I can 
 do to stand, What will they think at the house? 
 .What will they say?" 
 
 M. Fortunat had drawn his clerk a little on one side. 
 " Victor," said he, quickly and earnestly, " I must go 
 at once. Everything has been paid for; but in case 
 you need some money for a cab or anything of the 
 sort, here are ten francs. If there's any you don't use, 
 keep it for yourself. I leave this fool in your charge; 
 take care of him." 
 
 The sight of the ten-franc piece made Chupin's face 
 brighten a little. " Very well," he replied. " I under- 
 stand the business. I served my apprenticeship as a 
 ' guardian angel * when my grandmother kept the Poi- 
 vriere."* 
 
 " Above all, don't let him return home in his present 
 state." 
 
 " Have no fears, monsieur, I must talk business with 
 him, and so I shall have him all right in a jiffy." And 
 as M. Fortunat made his escape, Chupin beckoned to 
 the waiter, and said: 
 
 * See " Lecoq the Detective " by Emile Gaboriau. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 271 
 
 " Fetch me some very strong coffee, a handful of 
 salt, and a lemon. There's nothing better for bringing 
 a drunken man to his senses/ 5 
 
 XV. 
 
 M. FORTUNAT left the restaurant, almost on the run, 
 for he feared that he might be pursued and overtaken 
 by M. Casimir. But after he had gone a couple of 
 hundred paces, he paused, not so much to take breath, 
 as to collect his scattered wits ; and though the weather 
 was cold, he seated himself on a bench to reflect. 
 
 Never in all his changeful life had he known such 
 intense anxiety and torturing suspense as he had just 
 experienced in that little room in the restaurant. He 
 had longed for positive information and he had ob- 
 tained it; but it had upset all his plans and annihilated 
 all his hopes. Imagining that the count's heirs had 
 been lost sight of, he had determined to find them and 
 make a bargain with them, before they learned that 
 they were worth their millions. But on the contrary, 
 these heirs were close at hand, watching M. de Cha- 
 lusse, and knowing their rights so well that they were 
 ready to fight for them. " For it was certainly the 
 count's sister who wrote the letter which I have in 
 my pocket," he murmured. " Not wishing to receive 
 him at her own home, she prudently appointed a meet- 
 ing at a hotel. But what about this name of Huntley? 
 Is it really hers, or is it only assumed for the occasion ? 
 Is it the name of the man who enticed her from home, 
 or is it the name given to the son from whom she has 
 separated herself?" 
 
 But after all what was the use of all these conjee- 
 
272 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 tures? There was but one certain and positive thing, 
 and this was that the money he had counted upon had 
 escaped him; and he experienced as acute a pang as 
 if he had lost forty thousand francs a second time. 
 Perhaps, at that moment, he was sorry that he had 
 severed his connection with the marquis. Still, he was 
 not the man to despond, however desperate his plight 
 might appear, without an attempt to better his situa- 
 tion. He knew how many surprising and sudden 
 changes in fortune have been brought about by some 
 apparently trivial action. " I must discover this sis- 
 ter," he said to himself " I must ascertain her position 
 and her plans. If she has no one to advise her, I 
 will offer my services; and who knows " 
 
 A cab was passing; M. Fortunat hailed it, and or- 
 dered the Jehu to drive him to the Rue du Helder, 
 No. 43, Hotel de Homburg. 
 
 Was it by chance or premeditation that this estab- 
 lishment had received the name of one of the gambling 
 dens of Europe? Perhaps the following information 
 may serve to answer the question. The Hotel de Hom- 
 burg was one of those flash hostelries frequented by 
 adventurers of distinction, who are attracted to Paris 
 by the millions that are annually squandered there. 
 Spurious counts and questionable Russian princesses 
 were sure to find a cordial welcome there with princely 
 luxury, moderate prices, and but very little confidence. 
 Each person was called by the title which it pleased 
 him to give on his arrival Excellency or Prince, ac- 
 cording to his fancy. He could also find numerous ser- 
 vants carefully drilled to play the part of old family 
 retainers, and carriages upon which the most elaborate 
 coat-of-arms could be painted at an hour's notice. 
 Nor was there any difficulty whatever in immediately 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 273 
 
 procuring all the accessories of a life of grandeur all 
 that is needful to dazzle the unsuspecting, to throw 
 dust in people's eyes, and to dupe one's chance ac- 
 quaintances. All these things were provided without 
 delay, by the month, by the day or by the hour, just 
 as the applicant pleased. But there was no such thing 
 as credit there. Bills were presented every evening, 
 to those lodgers who did not pay in advance: and he 
 who could not, or would not, settle the score, even if 
 he were Excellency or Prince, was requested to depart 
 at once, and his trunks were held as security. 
 
 When M. Fortunat entered the office of the hotel, 
 a woman, with a crafty looking face, was holding a 
 conference with an elderly gentleman, who had a black 
 velvet skullcap on his head, and a magnifying glass in 
 his hand. They applied their eyes to the glass in turn, 
 and were engaged in examining some very handsome 
 diamonds, which had no doubt been offered in lieu of 
 money by some noble but impecunious foreigner. On 
 hearing M. Fortunat enter, the woman looked up. 
 
 (( What do you desire, monsieur ? " she inquired, 
 politely. 
 
 " I wish to see Madame Lucy Huntley." 
 
 The woman did not reply at first, but raised her eyes 
 to the ceiling, as if she were reading there the list of 
 all the foreigners of distinction who honored the Hotel 
 de Homburg by their presence at that moment. " Lucy 
 Huntley ! " she repeated. " I don't recollect that name ! 
 I don't think there's such a person in the house Lucy 
 Huntley! What kind of a person is she?" 
 
 For many reasons M. Fortunat could not answer. 
 First of all, he did not know. But he was not in the 
 least disconcerted, and he avoided the question without 
 the slightest embarrassment, at the same time trying to 
 
274 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 quicken the woman's faulty memory. "The person I 
 wished to see was here on Friday, between three and 
 six in the afternoon; and she was waiting for a visitor 
 with an anxiety which could not possibly have escaped 
 your notice," 
 
 This detail quickened the memory of the man with 
 the magnifying glass none other than the woman's 
 husband and landlord of the hotel. " Ah ! the gentle- 
 man is speaking of the lady of No. 2 you remember 
 the same who insisted upon having the large private 
 room." 
 
 " To be sure," replied the wife ; " where could my 
 wits have been ! " And turning to M. Fortunat : " Ex- 
 cuse my forgetfulness," she added. "The lady is no 
 longer in the house; she only remained here for a few 
 hours." 
 
 This reply did not surprise M. Fortunat he had ex- 
 pected it; and yet he assumed an air of the utmost 
 consternation. " Only a few hours ! " he repeated, like 
 a despairing echo. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur. She arrived here about eleven 
 o'clock in the morning, with only a large valise by way 
 of luggage, and she left that same evening at eight 
 o'clock." 
 
 " Alas ! and where was she going ? " 
 
 "She didn't tell me." 
 
 You might have sworn that M. Fortunat was about 
 to burst into tears. " Poor Lucy ! " said he, in a tragi- 
 cal tone ; " it was for me, madame, that she was wait- 
 ing. But it was only this morning that I received her 
 letter appointing a meeting here. She must have been 
 in despair. The post can't be depended on ! " 
 
 The husband and wife simultaneously shrugged their 
 shoulders, and the expression of their faces unmistak- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 275 
 
 ably implied: "What can we do about it? It is no 
 business of ours. Don't trouble us/' 
 
 But M. Fortunat was not the man to be dismayed 
 by such a trifle. 
 
 " She was taken to the railway station, no doubt/' 
 he insisted. 
 
 " Really, I know nothing about it." 
 
 " You told me just now that she had a large valise, 
 so she could not have left your hotel on foot. She 
 must have asked for a vehicle. Who was sent to fetch 
 it? One of your boys? If I could find the driver I 
 should, perhaps, be able to obtain some valuable in- 
 formation from him." 
 
 The husband and wife exchanged a whole volume of 
 suspicions in a single glance. M. Isidore Fortunat's 
 appearance was incontestably respectable, but they 
 were well aware that those strange men styled detec- 
 tives are perfectly conversant with the art of dressing- 
 to perfection. So the hotelkeeper quickly decided on- 
 his course. " Your idea is an excellent one," he said! 
 to M. Fortunat. " This lady must certainly have taken; 
 a vehicle on leaving; and what is more, it must have 
 been a vehicle belonging to the hotel. If you will fol- 
 low me, we will make some inquiries on the subject." 
 
 And rising with a willingness that augured well for 
 their success, he led the agent into the courtyard, where 
 five or six vehicles were stationed, while the drivers 
 lounged on a bench, chatting and smoking their pipes. 
 " Which of you was employed by a lady yesterday 
 evening at about eight o'clock?" 
 
 " What sort of a person was she ? " 
 
 " She was a handsome woman, between thirty and 
 forty years' old, very fair, rather stout, and dressed in 
 black. She had a large Russia-leather travelling-bag/* 
 
276 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 " I took her/' answered one of the drivers promptly. 
 
 M. Fortunat advanced toward the man with open 
 arms, and with such eagerness that it might have 
 been supposed he meant to embrace him. " Ah, my 
 worthy fellow ! " he exclaimed, " you can save my 
 life ! 
 
 The driver looked exceedingly pleased. He was 
 thinking that this gentleman would certainly requite his 
 salvation by a magnificent gratuity. " What do you 
 want of me ? " he asked. 
 
 " Tell me where you drove this lady ? " 
 
 " I took her to the Rue de Berry." 
 
 "To what number?" 
 
 " Ah, I can't tell. I've forgotten it." 
 
 But M. Fortunat no longer felt any anxiety. " Very 
 good," said he. " You've forgotten it that's not at 
 all strange. But you would know the house again, 
 wouldn't you ? " 
 
 "Undoubtedly I should." 
 
 "Will you take me there?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir. This is my vehicle." 
 
 The hunter of missing heirs at once climbed inside; 
 but it was not until the carriage had left the courtyard 
 that the landlord returned to his office. "That man 
 must be a detective," he remarked to his wife. 
 
 " So I fancy." 
 
 " It's strange we're not acquainted with him. He 
 must be a new member of the force." 
 
 But M. Fortunat was quite indifferent as to what 
 impression he had left behind him at the Hotel de 
 Homburg, for he never expected to set foot there 
 again. The one essential thing was that he had ob- 
 tained the information he wished for, and even a de- 
 scription of the lady, and he felt that he was now 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 277 
 
 really on the track. The vehicle soon reached the Rue 
 de Berry, and drew up in front of a charming little 
 private house. " Here we are, monsieur," said the 
 driver, bowing at the door. 
 
 M. Fortunat sprang nimbly on to the pavement, and 
 handed five francs to the coachman, who went off 
 growling and swearing, for he thought the reward a 
 contemptibly small one, coming as it did from a man 
 whose life had been saved, according to his own con- 
 fession. However, the person the Jehu anathematized 
 certainly did not hear him. Standing motionless where 
 he had alighted, M. Fortunat scrutinized the house in 
 front of him with close attention. " So she lives here/' 
 he muttered. " This is the place ; but I can't present 
 myself without knowing her name. I must make some 
 inquiries." 
 
 There was a wine-shop some fifty paces distant, and 
 thither M. Fortunat hastened, and ordered a glass of 
 currant syrup. As he slowly sipped the beverage, he 
 pointed to the house in question, with an air of well- 
 assumed indifference, and asked: "Whom does that 
 pretty dwelling belong to ? " 
 
 "To Madame Lia d'Argeles," answered the land- 
 lady. 
 
 M. Fortunat started. He well remembered that this 
 was the name the Marquis de Valorsay had mentioned 
 when speaking of the vile conspiracy he had planned. 
 It was at this woman's house that the man whom 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite loved had been disgraced! 
 Still he managed to master his surprise, and in a light, 
 frank tone he resumed : " What a pretty name ! And 
 what does this lady do?" 
 
 "What does she do? Why, she amuses herself." 
 
 M. Fortunat seemed astonished. " Dash it ! " said 
 
278 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 he. "She must amuse herself to good purpose to 
 have a house like that. Is she pretty?" 
 
 "That depends on taste. She's no longer young, at 
 any rate; but she has superb golden hair. And, oh! 
 how white she is as white as snow, monsieur as 
 white as snow! She has a fine figure as well, and a 
 most distinguished bearing pays cash, too, to the very 
 last farthing/' 
 
 There could no longer be any doubt. The portrait 
 sketched by the wine-vendor fully corresponded with 
 the description given by the hotelkeeper in the Rue 
 de Helder. Accordingly, M. Fortunat drained his 
 glass, and threw fifty centimes on the counter. Then, 
 crossing the street, he boldly rang at the door of 
 Madame d'Argeles's house. If any one had asked him 
 what he proposed doing and saying if he succeeded in 
 effecting an entrance, he might have replied with per- 
 fect sincerity, " I don't know." The fact is, he had 
 but one aim, one settled purpose in his mind. He was 
 obstinately, furiously resolved to derive some benefit, 
 small or great, from this mysterious affair. As for 
 the means of execution, he relied entirely on his au- 
 dacity and sang-froid, convinced that they would not 
 fail him when the decisive moment came. " First of 
 all, I must see this lady," he said to himself. "The 
 first words will depend solely upon my first impressions. 
 After that, I shall be guided by circumstances." 
 
 An old serving-man, in a quiet, tasteful livery, 
 opened the door, whereupon M. Fortunat, in a tone of 
 authority, asked: "Madame Lia d'Argeles?" 
 
 "Madame does not receive on Friday," was the 
 reply. 
 
 With a petulant gesture, M. Fortunat rejoined : " All 
 the same, I must speak with her to-day. It is on a 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 279 
 
 matter of the greatest importance. Give her my card.** 
 So saying, he held out a bit of pasteboard, on which, 
 below his name, were inscribed the words : " Liquida- 
 tions. Settlements effected for insolvent parties." 
 
 "Ah! that's a different thing/' said the servant 
 "Will monsieur take the trouble to follow me?" 
 
 M. Fortunat did take the trouble; and he was con- 
 ducted into a large drawing-room where he was re- 
 quested to sit down and await madame's coming. Left 
 to himself, he began an inventory of the apartment, as 
 a general studies the ground on which he is about to 
 give battle. No trace remained of the unfortunate 
 scene of the previous night, save a broken candelabrum 
 on the chimney-piece. It was the one which Pascal 
 Ferailleur had armed himself with, when they talked of 
 searching him, and which he had thrown down in the 
 courtyard, as he left the house. But this detail did not 
 attract M. Fortunat's attention. The only thing that 
 puzzled him was the large reflector placed above the 
 chandelier, and it took him some time to fathom with 
 what object it was placed there. Without precisely in- 
 timidating him, the luxurious appointments of the house 
 aroused his astonishment. " Everything here is in 
 princely style," he muttered, "and this shows that all 
 the lunatics are not at Charenton yet. If Madame 
 d'Argeles lacked bread in days gone by, she does so 
 no longer that's evident." 
 
 Naturally enough this reflection led him to wonder 
 why such a rich woman should become the Marquis de 
 Valorsay's accomplice, and lend a hand in so vile and 
 cowardly a plot, which horrified even him Fortunat. 
 " For she must be an accomplice," he thought. 
 
 And he marvelled at the freak of fate which had 
 connected the unfortunate man who had been sacrificed 
 
280 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 with the unacknowledged daughter, and the cast-off 
 sister, of the Count de Chalusse. A vague presenti- 
 ment, the mysterious voice of instinct, warned him, 
 moreover, that his profit in the affair would depend 
 upon the antagonism, or alliance, of Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite and Madame d'Argeles. But his meditations 
 were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a discussion 
 in an adjoining room. He stepped eagerly forward, 
 hoping to hear something, and he did hear a man 
 saying in a coarse voice : " What ! I leave an interesting 
 game, and lose precious time in coming ,to offer you 
 my services, and you receive me like this ! Zounds ! 
 madame, this will teach me not to meddle with what 
 doesn't concern me, in future. So, good-bye, my dear 
 lady. You'll learn some day, to your cost, the real 
 nature of this villain of a Coralth whom you now de- 
 fend so warmly." 
 
 This name of Coralth was also one of those which 
 were engraven upon M. Fortunat's memory; and yet 
 he did not notice it at the moment. His attention was 
 so absorbed by what he had just heard that he could not 
 fix his mind upon the object of his mission; and he 
 only abandoned his conjectures on hearing a rustling 
 of skirts against the panels of the door leading into the 
 hall. 
 
 The next moment Madame Lia d'Argeles entered 
 the room. She was arrayed in a very elegant dressing- 
 gown of gray cashmere, with blue satin trimmings, her 
 hair was beautifully arranged, and she had neglected 
 none of the usual artifices of the toilette-table ; still any 
 one would have considered her to be over forty years 
 of age. Her sad face wore an expression of melan- 
 choly resignation; and there were signs of recent tears 
 in her swollen eyes, surrounded by bluish circles. She 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 281 
 
 glanced at her visitor, and, in anything but an encour- 
 aging tone exclaimed : " You desired to speak with me, 
 I believe?" 
 
 M. Fortunat bowed, almost disconcerted. He had 
 expected to meet one of those stupid, ignorant young 
 women, who make themselves conspicuous at the after- 
 noon promenade in the Bois de Boulogne ; and he found 
 himself in the presence of an evidently cultivated and 
 imperious woman, who, even in her degradation, re- 
 tained all her pride of race, and awed him, despite all 
 his coolness and assurance. " I do, indeed, madame, 
 wish to confer with you respecting some important 
 interests," he answered. 
 
 She sank on to a chair ; and, without asking her vis- 
 itor to take a seat : " Explain yourself," she said, 
 briefly. 
 
 M. Fortunat's knowledge of the importance of the 
 game in which he had already risked so much had 
 already restored his presence of mind. He had only 
 needed a glance to form a true estimate of Madame 
 d'Argeles's character; and he realized that it would 
 require a sudden, powerful, and well-directed blow to 
 shatter her composure. " I have the unpleasant duty 
 of informing you of a great misfortune, madame," he 
 began. " A person who is very dear to you, and who 
 is nearly related to you, was a victim of a fright- 
 ful accident yesterday evening and died this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 This gloomy preamble did not seem to produce the 
 slightest effect on Madame d'Argeles. "Whom are 
 you speaking of?" she coldly asked. 
 
 M. Fortunat assumed his most solemn manner as he 
 replied : " Of your brother, madame of the Count de 
 Chalusse." 
 
282 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 She sprang up, and a convulsive shudder shook her 
 from head to foot. " Raymond is dead ! " she faltered. 
 
 " Alas ! yes, madame. Struck with death at the very 
 moment he was repairing to the appointment you had 
 given him at the Hotel de Homburg." 
 
 This clever falsehood, which was not entirely one, 
 would, so the agent thought, be of advantage to him, 
 since it would prove he was acquainted with previous 
 events. But Madame d'Argeles did not seem to notice, 
 or even to hear the remark. She had fallen back in 
 her arm-chair, paler than death. " How did he die ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " From an attack of apoplexy " 
 
 " My God ! " exclaimed the wretched woman, who 
 now suspected the truth; "my God, forgive me. It 
 was my letter that killed him ! " and she wept as if her 
 heart were breaking this woman who had suffered and 
 wept so much. 
 
 It is needless to say that M. Fortunat was moved 
 with sympathy; he always evinced a respectful sym- 
 pathy for the woes of others; but in the present in- 
 stance, his emotion was greatly mitigated by the satis- 
 faction he felt at having succeeded so quickly and so 
 completely. Madame d'Argeles had confessed every- 
 thing! This was indeed a victory, for it must be 
 .admitted that he had trembled lest she should deny all, 
 ;-and bid him leave the house. He still saw many diffi- 
 culties between his pocket and the Count de Chalusse's 
 /money ; but he did not despair of conquering them after 
 such a successful beginning. And he was muttering 
 some words of consolation, when Madame d'Argeles 
 suddenly looked up and said : " I must see him I will 
 see him once more ! Come, monsieur ! " But a terri- 
 ble memory rooted her to the spot and with a despair- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 283 
 
 ing gesture, and in a voice quivering with anguish she 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " No, no I cannot even do that." 
 
 M. Fortunat was not a little disturbed; and it was 
 with a look of something very like consternation that 
 he glanced at Madame d'Argeles, who had reseated her- 
 self and was now sobbing violently, with her face 
 hidden on the arm of her chair. " What prevents her ? " 
 he thought. " Why this sudden terror now that her 
 brother is dead? Is she unwilling to confess that she 
 is a Chalusse? She must make up her mind to it, 
 however, if she wishes to receive the count's property 
 and she must make up her mind to it, for my sake, 
 if not for her own." 
 
 He remained silent, until it seemed to him that 
 Madame d'Argeles was calmer, then : " Excuse me, 
 madame," he began, " for breaking in upon your very 
 natural grief, but duty requires me to remind you of 
 your interests." 
 
 With the passive docility of those who are wretched, 
 she wiped away her tears, and replied, gently : " I am 
 listening, monsieur." 
 
 He had had time to prepare his discourse. " First 
 of all, madame," he remarked, " I must tell you that I 
 was the count's confidential agent. In him I lose a 
 protector. Respect alone prevents me from saying a 
 friend. He had no secrets from me." M. Fortunat 
 saw so plainly that Madame d'Argeles did not under- 
 stand a word of this sentimental exordium that he 
 thought it necessary to add : " I tell you this, not so 
 much to gain your consideration and good-will, as to 
 explain to you how I became acquainted with these 
 matters relating to your family how I became aware 
 of your existence, for instance, which no one else sus- 
 
284 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 pected." He paused, hoping for some reply, a word, 
 a sign, but not receiving this encouragement, he con- 
 tinued : " I must, first of all, call your attention to the 
 peculiar situation of M. de Chalusse, and to the cir- 
 cumstances which immediately preceded and attended 
 his departure from life. His death was so unexpected 
 that he was unable to make any disposition of his 
 property by will, or even to indicate his last wishes. 
 This, madame, is fortunate for you. M. de Chalusse 
 had certain prejudices against you, as you are aware. 
 Poor count. He certainly had the best heart in the 
 world, and yet hatred with him was almost barbaric in 
 its intensity. There can be no doubt whatever, that 
 he had determined to deprive you of your inheritance. 
 With this intention he had already begun to convert 
 his estates into ready money, and had he lived six 
 months longer you would not have received a 
 penny." 
 
 With a gesture of indifference, which was difficult to 
 explain after the vehemence and the threatening tone 
 of her letter, Madame d'Argeles murmured : 
 
 "Ah, well! what does it matter?" 
 
 " What does it matter? " repeated M. Fortunat. " I 
 see, madame, that your grief prevents you from real- 
 izing the extent of the peril you have escaped. M. de 
 Chalusse had other, and more powerful reasons even 
 than his hatred for wishing to deprive you of your 
 share of his property. He had sworn that he would 
 give a princely fortune to his beloved daughter." 
 
 For the first time, Madame d'Argeles's features as- 
 sumed an expression of surprise. " What, my brother 
 had a child?" 
 
 " Yes, madame, an illegitimate daughter, Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite, a lovely and charming girl whom I 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 285 
 
 had the pleasure of restoring to his care some years 
 ago. She has been living with him for six months or 
 so; and he was about to marry her, with an enormous 
 dowry, to a nobleman bearing one of the proudest 
 names in France, the Marquis de Valorsay." 
 
 The name shook Madame d'Argeles as if she had 
 experienced the shock of an electric battery, and spring- 
 ing to her feet, with flashing eyes : " You say that my 
 brother's daughter was to marry M. de Valorsay ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " It was decided the marquis adored her." 
 
 " But she she did not love him confess that she 
 did not love him." 
 
 M. Fortunat did not know what to reply. The ques- 
 tion took him completely by surprise; and feeling that 
 his answer would have a very considerable influence 
 upon what might follow, he hesitated. 
 
 " Will you answer me ? " insisted Madame d'Argeles, 
 imperiously. u She loved another, did she not ? " 
 
 "To tell the truth, I believe she did/' the agent 
 stammered. "But I have no proof of it, madame." 
 
 " Ah ! the wretch ! " she exclaimed with a threaten- 
 ing gesture; "the traitor! the infamous scoundrel! 
 Now I understand it all. And to think that it occurred 
 in my house. But no ; it was best so, I can still repair 
 everything." And darting to the bell-rope, she pulled 
 it violently. 
 
 A servant at once appeared. "Job," she said, 
 " hasten after Baron Trigault he left the house a mo- 
 ment ago and bring him back. I must speak with 
 him. If you do not overtake him, go to his club, to 
 his house, to the houses of his friends, go to every 
 place where there is any chance of finding him. Make 
 haste, and do not return without him." 
 
286 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 And as the man turned to obey, she added : " My 
 carriage must be in the courtyard. Take it." 
 
 Meanwhile M. Fortunat's expression of countenance 
 had undergone a marked change. " Well ! " thought 
 he, "I have just made a mess of it! M. Valorsay is 
 unmasked ; and now, may I be hung, if he ever marries 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite. Certainly, I do not owe 
 much to the scoundrel, for he has defrauded me of 
 forty thousand francs, but what will he say when he 
 discovers what I've done? He will never believe me 
 if I tell him that it was an involuntary blunder, and 
 Heaven only knows what revenge he will plan! A 
 man of his disposition, knowing that he is ruined, is 
 capable of anything! So much the worse for me. 
 Before night I shall warn the commissary of police in 
 my district, and I shall not go out unarmed ! " 
 
 The servant went off, and Madame d'Argeles then 
 turned to her visitor again. But she seemed literally 
 transfigured by the storm of passion which was raging 
 in her heart and mind; her cheeks were crimson, and 
 an unwonted energy sparkled in her eyes. " Let us 
 finish this business," she said, curtly ; " I am expecting 
 some one." 
 
 M. Fortunat bowed with a rather pompous, but at 
 the same time obsequious air. " I have only a few 
 more words to say/' he declared. " M. de Chalusse 
 having no other heir, I have come to acquaint you with 
 your rights." 
 
 "Very good; continue, if you please." 
 
 "You have only to present yourself, and establish 
 your identity, to be put in possession of your brother's 
 property." 
 
 Madame d'Argeles gave the agent a look of mingled 
 irony and distrust ; and after a moment's reflection, she 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 287; 
 
 replied : " I am very grateful for your interest, mon- 
 sieur; but if I have any rights, it is not my intention 
 to urge them/' 
 
 It seemed to M. Fortunat as if he were suddenly fall- 
 ing from some immense height. " You are not in 
 earnest," he exclaimed, "or you are ignorant of the 
 fact that M. de Chalusse leaves perhaps twenty millions 
 behind him." 
 
 " My course is decided on, monsieur ; irrevocably de- 
 cided on/' 
 
 "Very well, madame; but it often happens that the 
 court institutes inquiries for the heirs of large for- 
 tunes, and this may happen in your case." 
 
 " I should reply that I was not a member of the 
 Chalusse family, and that would end it. Startled by 
 the news of my brother's death, I allowed my secret 
 to escape me. I shall know how to keep it in future." 
 
 Anger succeeded astonishment in M. Fortunat's 
 mind. " Madame, madame, what can you be thinking 
 of ? " he cried, impetuously. " Accept in Heaven's 
 name accept this inheritance; if not for yourself, for 
 the sake of " 
 
 In his excitement, he was about to commit a terrible 
 blunder. He saw it in time, and checked himself. 
 
 " For the sake of whom ? " asked Madame d'Argeles, 
 in an altered voice. 
 
 " For the sake of Mademoiselle Marguerite, madame ; 
 for the sake of this poor child, who is your niece. The 
 count never having acknowledged her^as his daughter, 
 she will be left actually without bread, while her 
 father's millions go to enrich the state." 
 
 " That will suffice, monsieur ; I will think of it. And 
 now, enough ! " 
 
 The dismissal was so imperious that M. Fortunat 
 
288 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 bowed and went off,, completely bewildered by this 
 denouement. " She's crazy ! " he said to himself. 
 "Crazy in the fullest sense of the word. She refuses 
 the count's millions from a silly fear of telling people 
 that she belongs to the Chalusse family. She threat- 
 ened her brother, but she would never have carried her 
 threats into execution. And she prefers her present 
 position to such a fortune. What lunacy ! " But, al- 
 though he was disappointed and angry, he did not by 
 any means despair. " Fortunately for me/' he thought, 
 " this proud and haughty lady has a son somewhere 
 in the world. And she'll do for him what she would 
 not consent to do for herself. Through her, with a 
 little patience and Victor Chupin's aid, I shall succeed 
 in discovering this boy. He must be an intelligent 
 youth and we'll see if he surrenders his millions as 
 easily as his mamma does." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 IT is a terrible task to break suddenly with one's past, 
 without even having had time for preparation; to re- 
 nounce the life one has so far lived, to return to the 
 starting point, and begin existence anew; to abandon 
 everything the position one has gained, the work one 
 has become familiar with, every fondly cherished hope, 
 and friend, and habit; to forsake the known to plunge 
 into the unknown, to leave the certain for the uncertain, 
 and desert light for darkness ; to cast one's identity 
 aside, assume a strange individuality, become a living 
 lie, change name, position, face, and clothes in one 
 phrase, to cease to be one's self, in order to become 
 some one else. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 289 
 
 This is indeed,, a terrible ordeal, and requires an 
 amount of resolution and energy which few human 
 beings possess. The boldest hesitate before such a 
 sacrifice, and many a man has surrendered himself to 
 justice rather than resort to this last extremity. And 
 yet this was what Pascal Ferailleur had the courage 
 to do, on the morrow of the shameful conspiracy that 
 had deprived him of his good name. When his mother's 
 exhortations and Baron Trigault' s encouraging words 
 had restored his wonted clearness of perception, the 
 only course he felt disposed to pursue was to disappear 
 and fly from the storm of slander and contempt; and 
 then, in a secure hiding-place, to watch for the time 
 and opportunity of rehabilitation and revenge. 
 
 Madame Ferailleur and her son made all needful 
 arrangements. " I shall start out at once/' said Pascal, 
 " and before two hours have elapsed I shall have found 
 a modest lodging, where we must conceal ourselves for 
 the present. I know a locality that will suit us, and 
 where no one will certainly ever think of looking for 
 us." 
 
 " And I," asked Madame Ferailleur, " what shall I 
 do in the meantime ? " 
 
 "You, mother; you must, at once, sell all that we 
 possess here everything even my books. You will 
 only keep such of our linen and clothes as you can pack 
 in three or four trunks. We are undoubtedly watched ; 
 and so it is of the utmost importance that every one 
 should imagine I have left Paris, and that you are going 
 to join me." 
 
 "And when everything is sold, and my trunks are 
 ready?" 
 
 'Then, mother, you must send some one for a cab, 
 and order the driver to take you to the Western Rail- 
 
290 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 way Station, where you will have the trunks removed 
 from the cab and placed in the baggage-room,, as if you 
 did not intend to leave Paris till the next day." 
 
 " Very good, I will do so ; even if any one is watch- 
 ing us, he won't be likely to suspect this ruse. But 
 afterward?" 
 
 "Afterward, mother,, you must go to the waiting- 
 room upstairs, and you will find me there. I will then 
 take you to the rooms I shall have rented, and to- 
 morrow we'll send a messenger with the receipt the 
 railway people will give you, to fetch our luggage for 
 us." 
 
 Madame Ferailleur approved of this plan, deeming 
 herself fortunate in this great calamity that despair had 
 not destroyed her son's energy and resources of mind. 
 " Shall we retain our name, Pascal ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. That would be an unpardonable impru- 
 dence/' 
 
 "What name shall we take, then? I must know, for 
 they may ask me at the station." 
 
 He reflected for a moment and then said : " We'll 
 take your maiden name, mother. It will bring us good 
 luck. Our new lodgings shall be hired in the name of 
 the Widow Maumejan." 
 
 They talked for some time longer, anxious to take 
 every precaution that prudence could suggest. And 
 when they were convinced that they had forgotten 
 nothing, Madame Ferailleur suggested that Pascal 
 should start off. But before doing so he had a sacred 
 duty to perform. " I must warn Marguerite," he mut- 
 tered. And seating himself at his desk, he wrote his 
 beloved a concise and exact account of the events which 
 had taken place. He told her of the course he intended 
 to pursue; and promised her that she should know his 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 291 
 
 new abode as soon as he knew it himself. In conclu- 
 sion, he entreated her to grant him an interview, in 
 which he could give her the full particulars of the 
 affair and acquaint her with his hopes. As for excul- 
 pating himself, even by so much as a single word as 
 for explaining the snare he had been the victim of, the 
 idea never once occurred to him. He was worthy of 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite; he knew that not a doubt 
 would disturb the perfect faith she had in his honor. 
 
 Leaning over her son's shoulder, Madame Ferailleur 
 read what he had written. " Do you intend to trust 
 this letter to the post?" she inquired. "Are you sure, 
 perfectly sure, that it will reach Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite, and not some one else who might use it 
 against you ? " 
 
 Pascal shook his head. " I know how to insure its 
 safe receipt," he replied. " Some time ago, Marguerite 
 told me that if ever any great peril threatened us, I 
 might call for the housekeeper at the Chalusse mansion 
 and intrust my message to her. The danger is suffi- 
 ciently great to justify such a course in the present 
 instance. So I shall pass down the Rue de Courcelles, 
 ask to see Madame Leon, and give her this letter. 
 Have no fear, my dear mother/' 
 
 As he spoke, he began to pack all the legal docu- 
 ments which had been confided to him into a large box, 
 which was to be carried to one of his former friends, 
 who would distribute the papers among the people they 
 belonged to. He next made a small bundle of the few 
 important private papers and valuables he possessed; 
 and then, ready for the sacrifice, he took a last survey 
 of the pleasant home where success had smiled so 
 favorably upon his efforts, where he had been so happy, 
 and where he had cherished such bright dreams of the 
 
292 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 future. Overcome by a flood of recollections, the tears 
 sprang to his eyes. He embraced his mother, and fled 
 precipitately from the house. 
 
 " Poor child ! " murmured Madame Ferailleur ; "poor 
 Pascal ! 
 
 Was she not also to be pitied ? This was the second 
 time within twenty years that a thunderbolt had fallen 
 on her in the full sunlight of happiness. And yet now, 
 as on the day following her husband's death, she found 
 in her heart the robust energy and heroic maternal 
 constancy which enable one to rise above every mis- 
 fortune. It was in a firm voice that she ordered her 
 servant to go in search of the nearest furniture dealer, 
 no matter which, provided he would pay cash. And 
 when the man arrived she showed him through the 
 rooms with stoical calmness. God alone knew how 
 intensely she was suffering. And yet while she was 
 waiting for the dealer, each piece of furniture had ac- 
 quired an extraordinary value in her eyes. It seemed 
 to her as if each object were a part of herself, and 
 when the man turned and twisted a chair or a table she 
 almost considered it a personal affront. 
 
 The rich, who are accustomed from birth to the lux- 
 ury that surrounds them, are ignorant of the terrible 
 sufferings which attend such cases as these. The per- 
 sons who do suffer are those of the middle classes, not 
 the parvenus, but those who bid fair to become parvenus 
 when misfortune overtook them. Their hearts bleed 
 when inexorable necessity deprives them of all the little 
 comforts with which they had gradually surrounded 
 themselves, for there is not an object that does not 
 recall a long ungratified desire, and the almost infantile 
 joy of possession. What happiness they felt on the 
 day when they purchased that large arm-chair ! How 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 293 
 
 many times they had gone to admire those velvet cur- 
 tains in the shop windows before buying them ! Those 
 carpets represented months of self-denial. And that 
 pretty clock ah ! they had fancied it would only herald 
 the flight of prosperous and pleasant hours. And all 
 these things the dealer handles, and shakes, and jeers 
 at, and depreciates. He will scarcely condescend to 
 purchase. Who would care to buy such trash? He 
 knows that the owner is in need of money, and he 
 profits by this knowledge. It is his business. " How 
 much did this cost you?" he asks, as he inspects one 
 piece of furniture after another. 
 
 " So much." 
 
 " Well, you must have been terribly cheated." 
 
 You know very well that if there is a cheat in the 
 world, it is this same man; but what can you say? 
 Any other dealer you might send for would act in the 
 same way. Now, Madame Ferailleur's furniture had 
 cost some ten thousand francs ; and, although it was no 
 longer new, it was worth at least a third of that sum. 
 But she obtained only seven hundred and sixty francs 
 for it. It is true, however, that she was in haste, and 
 that she was paid cash. 
 
 Nine o'clock was striking when her trunks were at 
 last piled on a cab, and she called out to the driver: 
 " Take me to the Place du Havre to the railway sta- 
 tion." Once before, when defrauded by a scoundrel, 
 she had been obliged to part with all her household 
 treasures. Once before she had left her home, taking 
 merely the wreck of her fortune with her. But what 
 a difference between then and now! 
 
 Then, the esteem and sympathy of all who knew her 
 was hers, and the admiring praise she received divested 
 the sacrifice of much of its bitterness, and increased 
 
294 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 her courage two-fold. Now, she was flying secretly, 
 and alone, under an assumed name, trembling at the 
 thought of pursuit or recognition flying as a criminal 
 flies at thought of his crime, and fear of punishment. 
 She had far less suffered on the day, when, with her 
 son upon her knees, she journeyed to the cemetery, fol- 
 lowing all that was mortal of the man who had been 
 her only thought, her love, her pride, her happiness, 
 and hope. Though crushed by the sense of her irre- 
 parable loss, she had not rebelled against the hand that 
 struck her; but now it was human wickedness that 
 assailed her through her son, and her suffering was 
 like that of the innocent man who perishes for want of 
 power to prove his innocence. Her husband's death 
 had not caused her such bitter tears as her son's dis- 
 honor. She who was so proud, and who had such 
 good reason to be proud, she could note the glances of 
 scorn she was favored with as she left her home. She 
 heard the insulting remarks made by some of her 
 neighbors, who, like so many folks, found their chief 
 delight in other people's misfortunes. 
 
 " Crocodile tears," some had exclaimed. " She is 
 going to meet her son; and with what he has stolen 
 they will live like princes in America." Rumor, which 
 enlarges and misrepresents everything, had, indeed, ab- 
 surdly exaggerated the affair at Madame d'Argeles's 
 house. It was reported in the Rue d'Ulm that Pascal 
 had spent every night at the gaming table for more 
 than five years ; and that, being an incomparable trick- 
 ster, he had stolen millions. 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame Ferailleur was approaching the 
 station. The cab horse soon slackened its pace to climb 
 the acclivity of the Rue d' Amsterdam; and shortly 
 afterward the vehicle drew up in the courtyard of the 
 
 K 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 295 
 
 railway station. Faithfully observing the directions 
 which had been given her, the worthy woman had her 
 trunks taken to the baggage-room,, declaring that she 
 should not leave Paris until the next day, whereupon 
 she received a receipt from the man in charge of the 
 room. She was oppressed by vague apprehensions, and 
 looked closely at every one who passed her; fearing 
 the presence of spies, and knowing full well that the 
 most profound secrecy could alone insure the success 
 of Pascal's plans. However, she did not see a single 
 suspicious looking person. Some Englishmen those 
 strange travellers, who are at the same time so foolishly 
 prodigal and so ridiculously miserly were making a 
 great hue and cry over the four sous gratuity claimed 
 by a poor commissionaire; but these were the only 
 persons in sight. 
 
 Partially reassured, Madame Ferailleur hastily as- 
 cended the staircase, and entered the large waiting- 
 room. It was here that Pascal had promised to meet 
 her; but, though she looked round on all sides, she did 
 not perceive him. Still, this delay did not alarm her 
 much; nor was it at all strange, since Pascal had 
 scarcely known what he would have to do when he left 
 the house. She seated herself on a bench, as far back 
 in the shade as possible and gazed sadly at the ever- 
 changing throng, when all of a sudden she was startled 
 by a man, who abruptly paused in front of her. This 
 man proved to be Pascal. But his hair had been 
 closely cut, and he had shaved off his beard. And 
 thus shorn, with his smooth face, and with a brown 
 silk neckerchief in lieu of the white muslin tie he 
 usually wore, he was so greatly changed that for an 
 instant his own mother did not recognize him. " Well ? " 
 asked Madame Ferailleur, as she realized his identity. 
 
296 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 " I have succeeded. We have secured such rooms 
 as I wished for." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Ah ! a long way off, my poor mother many a 
 league from those we have known and loved in a 
 thinly populated part of the suburbs, on the Route 
 de la Revolte, just outside the fortifications, and almost 
 at the point where it intersects the Asnieres road. You 
 will not be very comfortable there, but you will have 
 the pleasure of a little garden." 
 
 She rose, summoning all her energy. "What does 
 it matter where or what our abode is ? " she interrupted, 
 with forced gayety. " I am confident that we shall not 
 remain there long." 
 
 But it seemed as if her son did not share her hopes, 
 for he remained silent and dejected; and as his mother 
 observed him closely, she fancied by the expression of 
 his eyes, that some new anxiety had been added to all 
 his other troubles. 
 
 "What is the matter?" she inquired, unable to mas- 
 ter her alarm "what has happened?" 
 
 " Ah ! a great misfortune ! " 
 
 "My God! still another?" 
 
 " I have been to the Rue de Courcelles ; and I have 
 spoken to Madame Leon." 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
 "The Count de Chalusse died this morning." 
 
 Madame Ferailleur drew a long breath, as if greatly 
 relieved. She was certainly expecting to hear some- 
 thing very different, and she did not understand why 
 this death should be a great misfortune to them per- 
 sonally. One point, however, she did realize, that it 
 was imprudent, and even dangerous, to carry on this 
 conversation in a hall where a hundred persons were 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 297 
 
 passing and repassing every minute. So she took her 
 son's arm, and led him away, saying : " Come, let us 
 go." 
 
 Pascal had kept the cab which he had been using 
 during the afternoon; and having installed his mother 
 inside, he got in himself,, and gave his new address to 
 the driver. " Now tell me all," said Madame Ferail- 
 leur. 
 
 Poor Pascal was in that state of mind in which It 
 costs one actual suffering to talk; but he wished to 
 mitigate his mother's anxiety as much as possible ; and 
 moreover, he did not like her to suppose him wanting 
 in endurance. So, with a powerful effort, he shook 
 off the lethargy that was creeping over him, and in 
 a voice loud enough to be heard above the noise of 
 the carriage wheels, he began : " This is what I have 
 done, mother, since I left you. I remembered that 
 some time ago, while I was appraising some property, 
 I had seen three or four houses on the Route de la 
 Revoke, admirably suited to our present wants. Nat- 
 urally I went there first. A suite of rooms was vacant 
 in one of these houses. I have taken it; and in order 
 that nothing may interfere with the liberty of my 
 movements, I have paid six months' rent in advance. 
 Here is the receipt, drawn up in the name we shall 
 henceforth bear." So saying, he showed his mother a 
 document in which the landlord declared that he had 
 received from M. Maumejan the sum of three hundred 
 and fifty francs for two quarters' rent, eta " My bar- 
 gain concluded," he resumed, "I returned into Paris, 
 and entered the first furniture shop I saw. I meant to 
 hire the necessary things to furnish our little home, but 
 the dealer made all sorts of objections. He trembled 
 for his furniture, he wanted a sum of money to be 
 
298 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 deposited as security, or the guarantee of three re- 
 sponsible business men. Seeing this, and knowing that 
 I had no time to lose, I preferred to purchase such 
 articles as were absolutely necessary. One of the con- 
 ditions of the purchase was that everything should be 
 in the house and in its place by eleven o'clock to-night 
 As I stipulated in writing that the dealer should forfeit 
 three hundred francs in case he failed to fulfil his 
 agreement, I can rely upon his punctuality; I confided 
 the key of our lodgings to him,, and he must now be 
 there waiting for us." 
 
 So, before thinking of his love, and Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite, Pascal had taken the necessary measures 
 for the execution of his plan to regain his lost honor. 
 Madame Ferailleur had scarcely supposed him capable 
 of so much courage and firmness, and she rewarded 
 him with a warm pressure of the hand. Then, as he 
 was silent : " When did you see Madame Leon, then ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " When all the household arrangements were com- 
 pleted, mother. On leaving the furniture-shop, I found 
 that I had still an hour and a quarter before me. I 
 could defer no longer, and at the risk o l obliging you 
 to wait for me, I hastened to the Rue de Courcelles." 
 
 It was evident that Pascal felt extreme embarrass- 
 ment in speaking of Mademoiselle Marguerite. There 
 is an instinctive delicacy and dislike of publicity in all 
 deep passion, and true and chaste love is ever averse 
 to laying aside the veil with which it conceals itself 
 from the inquisitive. Madame Ferailleur understood 
 this feeling; but she was a mother, and as such, jealous 
 of her son's tenderness, and anxious for particulars 
 concerning this rival who had suddenly usurped her 
 place in the heart where she had long reigned supreme. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 299 
 
 She was also a woman that is to say, distrustful and 
 suspicious in reference to all other women. So, with- 
 out taking pity on Pascal's embarrassment, she urged 
 him to continue. 
 
 " I gave the driver five francs on condition that he 
 would hurry his horses," he resumed, " and we were 
 rattling along at a rapid rate, when, suddenly, near the 
 Hotel de Chalusse, I noticed a change in the motion 
 of the vehicle. I looked out and saw that we were 
 driving over a thick layer of straw which had been 
 spread across the street. I can scarcely describe my 
 feelings on seeing this. A cold perspiration came over 
 me I fancied I saw Marguerite in agony, dying far 
 from me, and calling me in vain. Without waiting for 
 the vehicle to stop, I sprang to the ground, and was 
 obliged to exercise all my self-control to prevent myself 
 from rushing into the concierge's lodge, and wildly 
 asking : 6 Who is dying here ? ' But an unforeseen diffi- 
 culty presented itself. It was evident that I ought not 
 to go in person to inquire for Madame Leon. Whom 
 could I send? There were no commissionaires at the 
 street corners, and nothing would have induced me to 
 confide the message to any of the lads in the neighbor- 
 ing wine-shops. Fortunately, my driver the same 
 who is driving us now is an obliging fellow, and I 
 intrusted him with the commission, while I stood guard 
 over his horses. Ten minutes later, Madame Leon left 
 the house and came to meet me. I knew her at once, 
 for I had seen her a hundred times with Marguerite 
 when they lived near the Luxembourg; and having 
 seen me pass and repass so often, she recognized me in 
 spite of my changed appearance. Her first words, ' M. 
 de Chalusse is dead,' relieved my heart of a terrible 
 weight. I could breathe again. But she was in such 
 
300 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 haste that she could not stop to tell me any particulars. 
 Still I gave her my letter, and she promised me a 
 prompt reply from Marguerite. Everybody will be up 
 and moving about the house to-night, and she said she 
 could easily make her escape for a few moments. So, 
 at half-past twelve to-night she will be at the little 
 garden gate, and if I am promptly at hand, I shall 
 have a reply from Marguerite." 
 
 Madame Ferailleur seemed to be expecting some- 
 thing more, and as Pascal remained silent, she re- 
 marked : " You spoke of a great misfortune. In what 
 does it consist? I do not perceive it." 
 
 With an almost threatening gesture, and in a gloomy 
 voice, he answered : " The misfortune is this : if it had 
 not been for this abominable conspiracy, which has 
 dishonored me, Marguerite would have been my wife 
 before a month had elapsed, for now she is free, abso- 
 lutely free to obey the dictates of her own will and 
 heart." 
 
 " Then why do you complain ? " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! don't you understand ? How can I 
 marry her ? Would it be right for me to think of offer- 
 ing her a dishonored name? It seems to me that I 
 should be guilty of a most contemptible act of some- 
 thing even worse than a crime if I dared speak to 
 her of my love and our future before I have crushed 
 the villains who have ruined me." 
 
 Regret, anger, and the consciousness of his present 
 powerlessness drew from him tears which fell upon 
 Madame Ferailleur's heart like molten lead; but she 
 succeeded in concealing her agony. " All the more 
 reason," she answered, almost coldly, " why you should 
 not lose a second, but devote all your energy and in- 
 telligence to the work of justification." 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 301 
 
 " Oh, I shall have my revenge, never fear. But in 
 the meantime, what is to become of her? Think, 
 mother, she is alone in the world, without a single 
 friend. It is enough to drive one mad ! " 
 
 " She loves you, you tell me. What have you to 
 fear? Now she will be freed from the persecutions 
 of the suitor they intended to force upon her, whom she 
 has spoken to you about the Marquis de Valorsay, is 
 it not?" 
 
 This name sent Pascal's blood to his brain. " Ah, 
 the scoundrel ! " he exclaimed. " If there was a God 
 in heaven " 
 
 " Wretched boy ! " interrupted Madame Ferailleur ; 
 "you blaspheme when Providence has already inter- 
 posed on your behalf. And who suffers most at this 
 moment, do you think ? you, strong in your innocence, 
 or the marquis, who realizes that he has committed an 
 infamous crime in vain?" 
 
 The sudden stopping of the cab put an end to their 
 conversation. Leaving the Route d'Asnieres, the driver 
 had turned into the Route de la Revolte, and had drawn 
 up in front of an unpretentious two-storied house 
 which stood entirely alone. " We have arrived, 
 mother," said Pascal. 
 
 A man, who was standing on the threshold, stepped 
 forward to open the cab door. It was the furniture- 
 dealer. " Here you are at last, M. Maumejan," said 
 he. " Come in, and you'll see that I've strictly fulfilled 
 the conditions of our contract." His words proved 
 true. He was paid the sum stipulated, and went away 
 satisfied. 
 
 " Now, my dear mother," said Pascal, " allow me to- 
 do the honors of the poor abode I have selected." 
 
 He had taken only the ground floor of this humble 
 
302 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 dwelling. The story above,, which had an independenl 
 entrance and staircase, was occupied by the quiet fam- 
 ily of the owner. Although the space was small, the archi- 
 tect had made the most of it. He had divided it intc 
 four small rooms, separated by a corridor; and the 
 kitchen looked out upon a little garden about four 
 times as large as an ordinary sheet. The furniture 
 which Pascal had purchased was more than plain; but 
 it was well suited to this humble abode. It had just 
 been brought in_, but any one would have supposed it 
 had been in its place for a couple of years. 
 
 " We shall be very comfortable here/' declared 
 Madame Ferailleur. " Yes, very comfortable. By to- 
 morrow evening you won't recognize the place. I have 
 saved a few trifles from the wreck some curtains, a 
 couple of lamps, a clock you'll see. It's wonderful 
 how much four trunks can be made to hold." 
 
 When his mother set him such a noble example 
 Pascal would have blushed to allow himself to be out- 
 done. He very quietly explained the reasons which 
 had influenced him in choosing these rooms, the princi- 
 pal one being that there was no concierge, and he was 
 therefore assured absolute liberty in his movements, as 
 well as entire immunity from indiscreet gossip. " Cer- 
 tainly, my dear mother," he added, " it is a lonely and 
 unattractive neighborhood; but you will find all the 
 necessaries of life near at hand. The owner of the 
 house lives on the floor above. I have talked with the 
 wife they seem to be honest, quiet people and she 
 will pilot you about. I inquired for some one to do 
 the heavy work, and she mentioned a poor woman 
 named Vantrasson, who lives in the neighborhood, and 
 who is anxious to obtain employment. They were to 
 inform her this evening, and you will see her to-mor- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 303 
 
 row. And above all, don't forget that you are hence- 
 forth Madame Maumejan." . 
 
 Occupied with these arrangements for the future, he 
 was still talking, when Madame Ferailleur, drawing out 
 her watch, gently remarked : " And your appointment ? 
 You forget that the cab is waiting at the door." 
 
 It was true; he had forgotten it. He caught up his 
 hat, hastily embraced his mother, and sprang into the 
 vehicle. The horses were almost exhausted, but the 
 driver was so willing that he found a means of making 
 them trot as far as the Rue de Courcelles. However, 
 on arriving there, he declared that his animals and 
 himself could endure no more, and after receiving the 
 amount due to him, he departed. 
 
 The air was chilly, the night dark, and the street 
 deserted. The gloomy silence was only disturbed at 
 long intervals by the opening or shutting of a door, or 
 by the distant tread of some belated pedestrian. Hav- 
 ing at least twenty minutes to wait, Pascal sat down 
 on the curbstone opposite the Hotel de Chalusse, and 
 fixed his eyes upon the building as if he were striving 
 to penetrate the massive walls, and see what was pass- 
 ing within. Only one window that of the room where 
 the dead man was lying was lighted up, and he could 
 vaguely distinguish the motionless form of a woman 
 standing with her forehead pressed against the pane of 
 glass. A prey to the indescribable agony which seizes 
 a man when he feels that his life is at stake that his 
 future is about to be irrevocably decided Pascal 
 counted the seconds as they passed by. He found it 
 impossible to reflect, to deliberate, to decide on any 
 plan of action. He forgot the tortures he had endured 
 during the last twenty-four hours; Coralth, Valorsay, 
 Madame d'Argeles, the baron, no longer existed for 
 
304 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 liim. He forgot his loss of honor and position, and the 
 disgrace attached to his name. The past was anni- 
 hilated, as it were,, and he could think of no future 
 beyond the next few moments. His physical condition 
 undoubtedly contributed to his mental weakness. He 
 had taken no food that day, and he was faint from 
 want of nourishment. He had come without an over- 
 coat, moreover, and the cold night air chilled him to 
 the bone. There was a strange ringing in his ears, 
 and a mist swam before his eyes. At last the bell at 
 the Beaujon Hospital tolled the appointed hour, and 
 roused him from his lethargy. He seemed to hear a 
 voice crying to him in the darkness, " Up ! the hour has 
 come ! " 
 
 Trembling, and with tottering limbs, he dragged him- 
 self to the little gate opening into the gardens of the 
 Chalusse mansion. Soon it softly opened, and Madame 
 Leon appeared. Ah! it was not she that Pascal had 
 hoped to see. Unfortunate man ! He had been listen- 
 ing to that mysterious echo of our own desires which 
 we so often mistake for a presentiment; and it had 
 whispered in his heart : " Marguerite herself will 
 come ! " 
 
 With the candor of wretchedness, he could not refrain 
 from telling Madame Leon the hope he had entertained. 
 But, on hearing him, the housekeeper recoiled with a 
 gesture of outraged propriety, and reproachfully ex- 
 claimed : " What are you thinking of, monsieur ? What ! 
 could you suppose that Mademoiselle Marguerite would 
 abandon her place by her dead father's bedside to come 
 to a rendezvous ? Ah ! you should think better of her 
 than that, the dear child ! " 
 
 He sighed deeply, and in a scarcely audible voice, he 
 asked : " Hasn't she even sent me a reply ? " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 305 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, she has ; and although it is a great 
 indiscretion on my part, I bring you the letter. Here 
 it is. Now, good-evening. I must go at once. What 
 would become of me if the servants discovered my 
 absence, and found that I had gone out alone " 
 
 She was hurrying away, but Pascal detained her. 
 " Pray wait until I see what she has written/' he said, 
 imploringly. "I shall perhaps be obliged to send her 
 some message in reply." 
 
 Madame Leon obeyed, though with rather bad grace, 
 and not without several times repeating : " Make 
 haste ! " while Pascal ran to a street lamp near by. 
 It was not a letter that Marguerite had sent him, but a 
 short note, written on a scrap of crumpled paper, 
 folded, and not sealed. It was written in pencil; and 
 the handwriting was irregular and indistinct. Still, 
 by the flickering light of the gas, Pascal deciphered the 
 word "Monsieur." It made him shudder. "Mon- 
 sieur ! " What did this mean ? In writing to him of 
 recent times, Marguerite had always said, " My dear 
 Pascal," or, "My friend." 
 
 Nevertheless, he continued : " I have not had the 
 courage to resist the entreaties made to me by the Count 
 de Chalusse, my father, in his last agony. I have sol- 
 emnly pledged myself to become the wife of the Mar- 
 quis de Valorsay. 
 
 " One cannot break a promise made to the dying. I 
 shall keep mine, even though my heart break. I shall 
 do my duty. God will give me strength and courage. 
 Forget her whom you loved. She is now the betrothed 
 of another, and honor commands her to forget your 
 very name. Once more, and for the last time, farewell ! 
 If you love me, you will not try to see me again. It 
 would only add to my misery. 
 
306 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 "Think as though she were dead she who signs 
 herself MARGUERITE/' 
 
 The commonplace wording of this letter, and the 
 mistakes in spelling that marred it, entirely escaped 
 Pascal's notice. He only understood one thing, that 
 Marguerite was lost to him, and that she was on the 
 point of becoming the wife of the vile scoundrel who 
 had planned the snare which had ruined him at the 
 Hotel d'Argeles. Breathless, despairing, and half 
 crazed with rage, he sprang toward Madame Leon. 
 " Marguerite, where is she ? " he demanded, in a hoarse, 
 unnatural voice ; " I must see her ! " 
 
 " Oh ! monsieur, what do you ask ? Is it possible ? 
 
 Allow me to explain to you " But the housekeeper 
 
 was unable to finish her sentence, for Pascal had caught 
 her by the hands, and holding them in a vicelike grip, 
 he repeated : " I must see Marguerite, and speak to 
 her. I must tell her that she has been deceived ; I will 
 unmask the scoundrel who " 
 
 The frightened housekeeper struggled with all her 
 might, trying her best to reach the little gate which was 
 standing open. " You hurt me ! " she cried. " Are you 
 mad ? Let me go or I shall call for help ? " And twice 
 indeed she shouted in a loud voice, " Help ! murder !" " 
 
 But her cries were lost in the stillness of the night. 
 If any one heard them, no one came ; still they recalled 
 Pascal to a sense of the situation, and he was ashamed 
 of his violence. He released Madame Leon, and his 
 manner suddenly became as humble as it had been 
 threatening. " Excuse me," he said, entreatingly. " I 
 am suffering so much that I don't know what I'm 
 doing. I beseech you to take me to Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite, or else run and beg her to come here. I ask 
 but a moment." 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 307 
 
 Madame Leon pretended to be listening attentively; 
 but, in reality, she was quietly manoeuvring to gain 
 the garden gate. Soon she succeeded in doing so, 
 whereupon, with marvellous strength and agility, she 
 pushed Pascal away, and sprang inside the garden, clos- 
 ing the gate after her, and saying as she did so, " Be- 
 gone, you scoundrel ! " 
 
 This was the final blow ; and for more than a minute 
 Pascal stood motionless in front of the gate, stupefied 
 with mingled rage and sorrow. His condition was not 
 unlike that of a man who, after falling to the bottom 
 of a precipice, is dragging himself up, all mangled and 
 bleeding, swearing that he will yet save himself, when 
 suddenly a heavy stone which he had loosened in his 
 descent, falls forward and crushes him. All that he 
 had so far endured was nothing in comparison with 
 the thought that Valorsay would wed Marguerite. Was 
 such a thing possible ? Would God permit such a mon- 
 strous iniquity? " No, that shall never be," he mut- 
 tered. " I will murder the scoundrel rather ; and after- 
 ward justice may do whatever it likes with me." 
 
 He experienced that implacable, merciless thirsting 
 for vengeance which does not even recoil before the 
 commission of a crime to secure satisfaction, and this 
 longing inflamed him with such energy that, although 
 he had been so utterly exhausted a few moments before 
 he was not half an hour in making his way back to 
 his new home. His mother, who was waiting for him 
 with an anxious heart, was surprised by the flush on 
 his cheeks, and the light glittering in his eyes. "Ah, 
 you bring good news," she exclaimed. 
 
 His only answer was to hand her the letter which 
 Madame Leon had given him, saying as he did so, 
 " Read." 
 
308 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 Madame Ferailleur's eyes fell upon the words : "Once 
 more, and for the last time, farewell ! " She under- 
 stood everything, turned very pale, and in a trembling 
 voice exclaimed: "Don't grieve, my son; the girl did 
 not love you." 
 
 " Oh, mother ! if you knew " 
 
 But she checked him with a gesture, and lifting her 
 head proudly, she said : " I know what it is to love, 
 Pascal it is to have perfect faith. If the whole world 
 had accused your father of a crime, would a single 
 doubt of his innocence have ever entered my mind? 
 This girl has doubted you. They have told her that 
 you cheated at cards and she has believed it. You 
 have failed to see that this oath at the bedside of the 
 dying count is only an excuse/' 
 
 It was true; the thought had not occurred to Pascal. 
 " My God ! " he cried in agony ; " are you the only one 
 who believes in my innocence?" 
 
 " Without proofs yes. It must be your task to 
 obtain these proofs." 
 
 "And I shall obtain them," he rejoined, in a tone 
 of determination. " I am strong now that I have Mar- 
 guerite's life to defend for they have deceived her, 
 mother, or she would never have given me up. Oh ! 
 don't shake your head. I love her, and so I trust her." 
 
 XVII. 
 
 M. ISIDORE FORTUNAT was not the man to go to sleep 
 over a plan when it was once formed. Whenever he 
 said to himself, " I'll do this, or that," he did it as soon 
 as possible that very evening, rather than the next 
 day. Having sworn that he would find out Madame 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 309 
 
 d'Argeles's son, the heir to the Count de Chalusse's 
 millions, it did not take him long to decide which of 
 his agents he would select to assist him in this difficult 
 task. Thus his first care, on returning home, was to 
 ask his bookkeeper for Victor Chupin's address. 
 
 " He lives in the Faubourg Saint-Denis/' replied the 
 bookkeeper, "at No. ." 
 
 "Very well/ 7 muttered M. Fortunat; "I'll go there 
 as soon as I have eaten my dinner/' And, indeed, as 
 soon as he had swallowed his coffee, he requested 
 Madame Dodelin to bring him his overcoat, and half 
 an hour later he reached the door of the house where 
 his clerk resided. 
 
 The house was one of those huge, ungainly struc- 
 tures, large enough to shelter the population of a small 
 village, with three or four courtyards, as many stair- 
 cases as there are letters in the alphabet, and a con- 
 cierge who seldom remembers the names of the tenants 
 except on quarter-days when he goes to collect the rent, 
 and at New Year, when he expects a gratuity. But, by 
 one of those lucky chances ( made expressly for M. 
 Fortunat, the porter did recollect Chupin, knew him 
 and was kindly disposed toward him, and so he told the 
 visitor exactly how and where to find him. It was very 
 simple. He had only to cross the first courtyard, take 
 staircase D, on the left-hand side, ascend to the sixth 
 floor, go straight ahead, etc., etc. 
 
 Thanks to this unusual civility, M. Fortunat did not 
 lose his way more than five times before reaching the 
 door upon which was fastened a bit of pasteboard 
 bearing Victor Chupin's name. Noticing that a bell- 
 rope hung beside the door, M. Fortunat pulled it, 
 whereupon there was a tinkling, and a voice called out, 
 " Come in ! " He complied, and found himself in a 
 
310 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 small and cheaply furnished room,, which was, how- 
 ever, radiant with the cleanliness which is in itself a 
 luxury. The waxed floor shone like a mirror ; the fur- 
 niture was brilliantly polished, and the counterpane and 
 curtains of the bed were as white as snow. What first 
 attracted the agent's attention was the number of super- 
 fluous articles scattered about the apartment some 
 plaster statuettes on either side of a gilt clock, an 
 etagere crowded with knickknacks, and five or six pass- 
 able engravings. When he entered, Victor Chupin 
 was sitting, in his shirt-sleeves, at a little table, where, 
 by the light of a small lamp, and with a zeal that 
 brought a flush to his cheeks, he was copying, in a 
 very fair hand a page from a French dictionary. Near 
 the bed, in the shade, sat a poorly but neatly clad 
 woman about forty years of age, who was knitting in- 
 dustriously with some long wooden needles. 
 
 "M. Victor Chupin?" inquired M. Fortunat. 
 
 The sound of his voice made the young man spring 
 to his feet. He quickly lifted the shade from his 
 lamp, and, without attempting to conceal his astonish- 
 ment, exclaimed: "M'sieur Fortunat! at this hour! 
 Where's the fire ? " Then, in a grave manner that con- 
 trasted strangely with his accustomed levity : " Mother/'" 
 said he, " this is one of my patrons, M ? sieur Fortunat 
 you know the gentleman whom I collect for/' 
 
 The knitter rose, bowed respectfully, and said : " I 
 hope, sir, that you are pleased with my son, and that 
 he's honest." 
 
 " Certainly, madame," replied the agent ; " certainly. 
 Victor is one of my best and most reliable clerks." 
 
 "Then I'm content," said the woman, reseating her- 
 self. 
 
 Chupin also seemed delighted. "This is my good 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 311 
 
 mother, sir/' said he. " She's almost blind now ; but, 
 in less than six months she will be able to stand at her 
 window and see a pin in the middle of the street, so 
 the physician who is treating her eyes promised me; 
 then we shall be all right again. But take a seat, sir. 
 May we venture to offer you anything? 5 ' 
 
 Although his clerk had more than once alluded to his 
 responsibilities, M. Fortunat was amazed. He mar- 
 velled at the perfume of honesty which exhaled from 
 these poor people, at the dignity of this humble woman, 
 and at the protecting and respectful affection evinced 
 by her son a young man, whose usual tone of voice 
 and general behavior had seemed to indicate that he 
 was decidedly a scapegrace, " Thanks, Victor," he re- 
 plied, " I won't take any refreshment. I've just left 
 the dinner-table. I've come to give you my instruc- 
 tions respecting a very important and very urgent mat- 
 ter/' 
 
 Chupin at once understood that his employer wished 
 for a private interview. Accordingly, he took up the 
 lamp, opened a door, and, in the pompous tone of a rich 
 banker who is inviting some important personage to 
 enter his private room, he said: "Will you be kind 
 enough to step into my chamber, m'sieur?" 
 
 The room which Chupin . so emphatically denomi- 
 nated his " chamber " was a tiny nook, extraordinarily 
 clean, it is true, but scantily furnished with a small iron 
 bedstead, a trunk, and a chair. He offered the chair 
 to his visitor, placed the lamp on the trunk, and seated 
 himself on the bed, saying as he did so: "This is 
 scarcely on so grand a scale as your establishment, 
 m'sieur; but I am going to ask the landlord to gild 
 the window of my snuff-box." 
 
 M. Fortunat was positively touched. He held out his 
 
312 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 hand to his clerk and exclaimed: "You're a worthy 
 fellow, Chupin." 
 
 " Nonsense, m'sieur, one does what one can ; but, 
 zounds ! how hard it is to make money honestly ! If 
 my good mother could only see, she would help me 
 famously, for there is no one like her for work! 
 But you see one can't become a millionaire by knit- 
 ting!" 
 
 " Doesn't your father live with you ? " 
 Chupin's eyes gleamed angrily. " Ah ! don't speak 
 of that man to me, m'sieur ! " he exclaimed, " or I 
 shall hurt somebody." And then, as if he felt it neces- 
 sary to explain and excuse his vindictive exclamation, 
 he added: "My father, Polyte Chupin, is a good-for- 
 nothing scamp. And yet he's had his opportunities. 
 First, he was fortunate enough to find a wife like my 
 mother, who is honesty itself so much so that she 
 was called Toinon the Virtuous when she was young. 
 She idolized him, and nearly killed herself by working 
 to earn money for him. And yet he abused her so 
 much, and made her weep so much, that she has be- 
 come blind. But that's not all. One morning there 
 came to him I don't know whence or how enough 
 money for him to have lived like a gentleman. I be- 
 lieve it was a munificent reward for some service he 
 had rendered a great nobleman at the time when my 
 grandmother, who is now dead, kept a dramshop called 
 the Poivriere. Any other man would have treasured 
 that money, but not he. What he did was to carouse 
 day and night, and all the while my poor mother was 
 working her fingers to the bone to earn food for me. 
 She never saw a penny of all his money; and, indeed, 
 once when she asked him to pay the rent, he beat her 
 so cruelly that she was laid up in bed for a week. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 313 
 
 However, monsieur, you can very readily understand 
 that when a man leads that kind of life, he speedily 
 comes to the end of his banking account. So my 
 father was soon without a penny in his purse, and then 
 he was obliged to work in order to get something to 
 eat, and this didn't suit him at all. But when he didn't 
 know where to find a crust he remembered us; he 
 sought us out, and found us. Once I lent him a hun- 
 dred sous; the next day he came for forty more, and 
 the next for three francs; then for five francs again. 
 And so it was every day : e Give me this, or give me 
 that!' At last I said, 'Enough of this, the bank's 
 closed!' Then, what do you think he did? He 
 watched the house until he saw me go out; then he 
 came in with a second-hand furniture-dealer, and tried 
 to sell everything, pretending that he was the master. 
 And my poor, dear mother would have allowed him to 
 do it. Fortunately, I happened to come in again. Let 
 him sell my furniture? Not I. I would sooner have 
 been chopped in pieces ! I went and complained to 
 the commissary of police, who made my father leave 
 the house, and since then we've lived in peace." 
 
 Certainly this was more than sufficient to explain and 
 excuse Victor Chupin's indignation. And yet he had 
 prudently withheld the most serious and important 
 cause of his dislike. What he refrained from telling 
 was that years before, when he was still a mere child, 
 without will or discernment, his father had taken him 
 from his mother, and had started him down that terri- 
 ble descent, which inevitably leads one to prison or the 
 gallows, unless there be an almost miraculous inter- 
 position on one's behalf. This miracle had occurred in 
 Chupin's case ; but he did not boast of it. 
 
 " Come, come ! " said M. Fortunat, " don't worry 
 
314 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 too much about it. A father's a father after all, and 
 yours will undoubtedly reform by and by." 
 
 He said this as he would have said anything else, 
 out of politeness and for the sake of testifying a 
 friendly interest; but he really cared no more for this 
 information concerning the Chupin family than the 
 grand Turk. His first emotion had quickly vanished; 
 and he was beginning to find these confidential dis- 
 closures rather wearisome. " Let us get back to busi- 
 ness/' he remarked ; " that is to say, to Casimir. What 
 did you do with the fool after my departure ? " 
 
 " First, monsieur, I sobered him ; which was no easy 
 task. The greedy idiot had converted himself into a 
 wine-cask! At last, however, when he could talk as 
 well as you and I, and walk straight, I took him back 
 to the Hotel de Chalusse." 
 
 " That was right. But didn't you have some business 
 to transact with him?" 
 
 " That's been arranged, monsieur ; the agreement has 
 been signed. The count will have the best of funerals 
 the finest hearse out, with six horses, twenty-four 
 mourning coaches a grand display, in fact. It will be 
 worth seeing." 
 
 M. Fortunat smiled graciously. cf That ought to 
 bring you a handsome commission," he said, benignly. 
 
 Employed by the job, Chupin was the master of his 
 own time, free to utilize his intelligence and industry as 
 he chose, but M. Fortunat did not like his subordinates 
 to make any money except through him. Hence his 
 approval, in the present instance, was so remarkable 
 that it awakened Chupin's suspicions. " I shall make 
 a few sous, probably," he modestly replied, " a trifle 
 to aid my good mother in keeping the pot boiling." 
 
 " So much the better, my boy," said M. Fortunat. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 315 
 
 " I like to see money gained by those who make a good 
 use of it. And to prove this, I'm about to employ you 
 in an affair which will pay you handsomely if you 
 prosecute it successfully." 
 
 Chupin's eyes brightened at first but grew dark a 
 moment afterward, for delight had been quickly fol- 
 lowed by a feeling of distrust. He thought it exceed- 
 ingly strange that an employer should take the trouble 
 to climb to a sixth floor merely for the purpose of 
 conferring a favor on his clerk. There must be some- 
 thing behind all this; and so it behove him to keep 
 his eyes open. However, he knew how to conceal his 
 real feelings; and it was with a joyous air that he 
 exclaimed: "Eh! What? Money? Now? What 
 must I do to earn it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! a mere trifle/' replied the agent ; " almost 
 nothing, indeed."* And drawing his chair nearer to the 
 bed on which his employee was seated, he added : " But 
 first, one question, Victor. By the way in which a 
 woman looks at a young man in the street, at the the- 
 atre or anywhere would you know if she were watch- 
 ing her son ? " 
 
 Chupin shrugged his shoulders. " What a question ! " 
 he retorted. " Nonsense ! monsieur, it would be im- 
 possible to deceive me. I should only have to remem- 
 ber my mother's eyes when I return home in the even- 
 ing. Poor woman ! although she's half blind, she sees 
 me and if you wish to make her happy, you've only to 
 tell her I'm the handsomest and most amiable youth in 
 Paris." 
 
 M. Fortunat could not refrain from rubbing his 
 hands, so delighted was he to see his idea so perfectly 
 understood and so admirably expressed. " Good ! " he 
 declared ; " very good ! That's intelligence, if I am 
 
316 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 any judge. I have not been deceived in you, Vic- 
 tor." 
 
 Victor was on fire with curiosity. "What am I to 
 do, monsieur?" he asked eagerly. 
 
 " This : you must follow a woman whom I shall point 
 out to you, follow her everywhere without once losing 
 sight of her,, and so skilfully as not to let her suspect 
 it. You must watch her every glance, and when her 
 eyes tell you that she is looking at her son, your task 
 will be nearly over. You will then only have to follow 
 this son, and find out his name and address, what he 
 does, and how he lives. I don't know if I explain 
 what I mean very clearly." 
 
 This doubt was awakened in M. Fortunat's mind by 
 Chupin's features, which were expressive of lively 
 astonishment and discontent. " Excuse me, monsieur," 
 he said, at last, " I do not understand at all." 
 
 " It's very simple, however. The lady in question 
 has a son about twenty. I know it Pm sure of it. 
 But she denies it; she conceals the fact, and he doesn't 
 even know her. She secretly watches over him, how- 
 ever she provides him with money, and every day she 
 finds some way of seeing him. Now, it is to my inter- 
 est to find this son." 
 
 Chupin's mobile face became actually threatening in 
 its expression; he frowned darkly, and his lips quiv- 
 ered. Still this did not prevent M. Fortunat from 
 adding, with the assurance of a man who does not even 
 suspect the possibility of a refusal : " Now, when shall 
 we set about our task ? " 
 
 " Never ! " cried Chupin, violently ; and, rising, he 
 continued : " No ! I wouldn't let my good mother eat 
 bread earned in that way it would strangle her ! Turn 
 spy ! I ? Thanks some one else may have the job ! " 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 317 
 
 He had become as red as a turkey-cock, and such was 
 his indignation that he forgot his accustomed reserve 
 and the caution with which he had so far concealed his 
 antecedents. "I know this game Pve tried it!" he 
 went on,, vehemently. " One might as well take one's 
 ticket to prison by a direct road. I should be there 
 now if it hadn't been for Monsieur Andre. I was 
 thirsting for gold, and, like the brigand that I was, I 
 should have killed the man ; but in revenge he drew me 
 from the mire and placed my feet on solid ground once 
 more. And now, shall I go back to my vile tricks 
 again ? Why, I'd rather cut my leg off ! I'm to hunt 
 down this poor woman I'm to discover her secret so 
 that you may extort money from her,, am I? No, not 
 I ! I should like to be rich, and I shall be rich ; but 
 I'll make my money honestly. I hope to touch my 
 hundred- franc pieces without being obliged to wash my 
 hands afterward. So, a very good evening to your 
 establishment." 
 
 M. Fortunat was amazed, and at the same time much 
 annoyed, to find himself forsaken on account of such a 
 trifle. He feared, too, that Chupin might let his tongue 
 wag if he left his employment. So, since he had con- 
 fided this project to Chupin, he was determined that 
 Chupin alone should carry it into execution. Assum- 
 ing his most severe and injured manner, he sternly 
 exclaimed : " I think you have lost your senses." His 
 demeanor and intonation were so perfectly cool that 
 Chupin seemed slightly abashed. " It seems that you 
 think me capable of urging you to commit some dan- 
 gerous and dishonorable act," continued M. Fortunat. 
 
 "Why no m'sieur I assure you " 
 
 There was such evident hesitation in the utterance 
 of this " no " that the agent at once resumed : " Come, 
 
318 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 you are not ignorant of the fact that in addition to my 
 business as a collector, I give my attention to the dis- 
 covery of the heirs of unclaimed estates? You are 
 aware of this ? Very well then : pray tell me how I am 
 to find them without searching for them? If I wish 
 this lady to be watched, it is only in view of reaching a 
 poor lad who is likely to be defrauded of the wealth 
 that rightfully belongs to him. And when I give you 
 a chance to make forty or fifty francs in a couple of 
 days, you receive my proposition in this style! You 
 are an ingrate and a fool, Victor ! " 
 
 Chupin's nature combined, in a remarkable degree, 
 the vices and peculiarities of the dweller in the Paris 
 faubourgs, who is born old, but who, when aged in 
 years, still remains a gamin. In his youth he had seen 
 many strange things, and acquired a knowledge of life 
 that would have put the experience of a philosopher to 
 shame. But he was not fit to cope with M. Fortunat, 
 who had an immense advantage over him, by reason of 
 his position of employer, as well as by his fortune and 
 education. So Chupin was both bewildered and dis- 
 concerted by the cool arguments his patron brought 
 forward; and what most effectually allayed his suspi- 
 cions was the small compensation offered for the work 
 merely forty or fifty francs. " Small potatoes, upon 
 my word ! " he thought. " Just the price of an honest 
 service; he would have offered more for a piece of 
 rascality/' So, after considering a moment, he said, 
 aloud : " Very well ; I'm your man, m'sieur." 
 
 M. Fortunat was secretly laughing at the success of 
 his ruse. Having come with the intention of offering 
 his agent a handsome sum, he was agreeably surprised 
 to find that Chupin's scruples would enable him to save 
 his money. " If I hadn't found you engaged in study, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 319 
 
 Victor," he said, " I should have thought you had been 
 drinking. What venomous insect stung you so sud- 
 denly? Haven't I confided similar undertakings to you 
 twenty times since you have been in my employment? 
 Who ransacked Paris to find certain debtors who were 
 concealing themselves? Who discovered the Vantras- 
 sons for me ? Victor Chupin. Very well. Then allow 
 me to say that I see nothing in this case in any way 
 differing from the others, nor can I understand why 
 this should be wrong., if the others were not/' 
 
 Chupin could only have answered this remark by 
 saying that there had been no mystery about the pre- 
 vious affairs, that they had not been proposed to him 
 late at night at his own home, and that he had acted 
 openly, as a person who represents a creditor has a 
 recognized right to act. But, though he felt that there 
 was a difference in the present case, it would have 
 been very difficult for him to explain in what this 
 difference consisted. Hence, in his most resolute tone : 
 " Pm only a fool, m'sieur," he declared ; " but I shall 
 know how to make amends for my folly." 
 
 " That means you have recovered your senses," said 
 M. Fortunat, ironically. " Really, that's fortunate. But 
 let me give you one bit of advice : watch yourself, and 
 learn to bridle your tongue. You won't always find me 
 in such a good humor as I am this evening." 
 
 So saying,, he rose, passed out into the adjoining 
 room, bowed civilly to his clerk's mother, and went off. 
 His last words, as he crossed the threshold, were, " So 
 I shall rely upon you. Be at the office to-morrow a 
 little before noon." 
 
 " It's agreed m'sieur." 
 
 The blind woman had risen, and had bowed respect- 
 fully; but, as soon as she was alone with her son, she 
 
320 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 asked: "What is this business he bids you undertake 
 in such a high and mighty tone ? " 
 
 " Oh ! an every-day matter, mother/ 5 
 
 The old woman shook her head. "Why were you 
 talking so loud then?" she inquired. "Weren't you 
 quarrelling? It must be something very grave when 
 if s necessary to conceal it from me. I couldn't see 
 your employer's face, my son; but I heard his voice, 
 and it didn't please me. It isn't the voice of an honest, 
 straightforward man. Take care, Toto, and don't allow 
 yourself to be cajoled be prudent.' 5 
 
 However, it was quite unnecessary to recommend 
 prudence to Victor Chupin. He had promised his as- 
 sistance, but not without a mental reservation. " No 
 need to see danger till it comes," he had said to him- 
 self. " If the thing proves to be of questionable pro- 
 priety after all, then good-evening; I desert." 
 
 It remains to know what he meant by questionable 
 propriety; the meaning of the expression is rather 
 vague. He had returned in all honesty and sincerity of 
 purpose to an honest life, and nothing in the world 
 would have induced him, avaricious though he was, to 
 commit an act that was positively wrong. Only the line 
 that separates good from evil was not very clearly de- 
 fined in his mind. This was due in a great measure to 
 his education, and to the fact that it had been long 
 before he realized that police regulations do not con- 
 stitute the highest moral law. It was due also to 
 chance, and, since he had no decided calling, to the 
 necessity of depending for a livelihood upon the many 
 strange professions which impecunious and untrained 
 individuals, both of the higher and lower classes, adopt 
 in Paris. 
 
 However, on the following morning he arrayed him- 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 321 
 
 self in his best apparel, and at exactly half-past eleven 
 o'clock he rang at his employer's door. M. Fortunat 
 had made quick work with his clients that morning, 
 and was ready, dressed to go out. He took up his hat 
 and said only the one word, " Come." The place where 
 the agent conducted his clerk was the wine-shop in the 
 Rue de Berry, where he had made inquiries respecting 
 Madame d'Argeles the evening before ; and on arriving 
 there, he generously offered him a breakfast. Before 
 entering, however, he pointed out Madame d'Argeles's 
 pretty house on the opposite side of the street, and said 
 to him: "The woman whom you are to follow, and 
 whose son you are to discover, will emerge from that 
 house/' 
 
 At that moment, after a night passed in meditating 
 upon his mother's prophetic warnings, Chupin was 
 again beset by the same scruples which had so greatly 
 disturbed him on the previous evening. However, they 
 soon vanished when he heard the wine-vendor, in reply 
 to M. Fortunat's skilful questions, begin to relate all 
 he knew concerning Madame Lia d'Argeles, and the 
 scandalous doings at her house. The seeker after lost 
 heirs and his clerk were served at a little table near 
 the door; and while they partook of the classical beef- 
 steak and potatoes M. Fortunat eating daintily, and 
 Chupin bolting his food with the appetite of a ship- 
 wrecked mariner they watched the house opposite. 
 
 Madame d'Argeles received on Saturdays, and, as 
 Chupin remarked, " there was a regular procession of 
 visitors." 
 
 Standing beside M. Fortunat, and flattered by the at- 
 tention which such a well-dressed gentleman paid to 
 his chatter, the landlord of the house mentioned the 
 names of all the visitors he knew. And he knew a good 
 
322 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 number of them, for the coachmen came to his shop 
 for refreshments when their masters were spending the 
 night in play at Madame d'Argeles's house. So he 
 was able to name the Viscount de Coralth, who dashed 
 up to the door in a two-horse phaeton, as well as Baron 
 Trigault, who came on foot, for exercise, puffing and 
 blowing like a seal. The wine-vendor, moreover, told 
 his customers that Madame d'Argeles never went out 
 before half-past two or three o'clock, and then always 
 in a carriage a piece of information which must have 
 troubled Chupin; for, as soon as the landlord had left 
 them to serve some other customers, he leant forward 
 and said to M. Fortunat: " Did you hear that? How is 
 it possible to track a person who's in a carriage ? " 
 
 " By following in another vehicle, of course." 
 
 " Certainly, m'sieur ; that's as clear as daylight. But 
 that isn't the question. The point is this : How can 
 one watch the face of a person who turns her back to 
 you ? I must see this woman's face to know whom she 
 looks at, and how." 
 
 This objection, grave as it appeared, did not seem to 
 disturb M. Fortunat. " Don't worry about that, Vic- 
 tor," he replied. " Under such circumstances, a mother 
 wouldn't try to see her son from a rapidly moving car- 
 riage. She will undoubtedly alight, and contrive some 
 means of passing and repassing him of touching him, 
 if possible. Your task will only consist in following 
 her closely enough to be on the ground as soon as she 
 is. Confine your efforts to that ; and if you fail to-day, 
 you'll succeed to-morrow or the day after the essen- 
 tial thing is to be patient." 
 
 He did better than to preach patience he practised 
 it. The hours wore away, and yet he did not stir from 
 his post, though nothing could have been more dis- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 323 
 
 agreeable to him than to remain on exhibition, as it 
 were, at the door of a wine-shop. At last, at a little 
 before three o'clock, the gates over the way turned 
 upon their hinges, and a dark-blue victoria, in which a 
 woman was seated, rolled forth into the street. " Look I" 
 said M. Fortunat, eagerly. " There she is ! " 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 THE woman in the carriage was none other than 
 Madame Lia d'Argeles. She was attired in one of 
 those startling costumes which are the rage nowadays, 
 and which impart the same bold and brazen appearance 
 to all who wear them: so much so, that the most ex- 
 perienced observers are no longer able to distinguish 
 the honest mother of a family from a notorious char- 
 acter. A Dutchman, named Van Klopen, who was 
 originally a tailor at Rotterdam, rightfully ascribes the 
 honor of this progress to himself. One can scarcely 
 explain how it happens that this individual, who calls 
 himself " the dressmaker of the queens of Europe," 
 has become the arbiter of Parisian elegance; but it is 
 an undeniable fact that he does reign over fashion. 
 He decrees the colors that shall be worn, decides 
 whether dresses shall be short or long, whether paniers 
 shall be adopted or discarded, whether ruches and puffs 
 and flowers shall be allowed, and in what form; and 
 his subjects, the so-called elegant women of Paris, obey 
 him implicitly. 
 
 Madame d'Argeles would personally have preferred 
 less finery, perhaps, but it would not have done for her 
 to be out of the fashion. She wore an imperceptible 
 hat, balanced on an immense pyramidal chignon, from 
 
324 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 which escaped a torrent of wavy hair. " What a beau- 
 tiful woman ! " exclaimed the dazzled Chupin, and in- 
 deed, seen from this distance, she did not look a day 
 more than thirty-five an age when beauty possesses 
 all the alluring charm of the luscious fruit of autumn. 
 She was giving orders for the drive, and her coachman, 
 with a rose in his buttonhole, listened while he reined 
 in the spirited horse. "The weather's superb," added 
 Chupin. " She'll no doubt drive round the lakes in 
 the Bois de Boulogne " 
 
 " Ah, she's off ! " interrupted M. Fortunat. " Run, 
 Victor, run! and don't be miserly as regards carriage 
 hire; all your expenses shall be liberally refunded you." 
 
 Chupin was already far away. Madame d'Argeles's 
 horse went swiftly enough, but the agent's emissary 
 had the limbs and the endurance of a stag, and he kept 
 pace with the victoria without much difficulty. And as 
 he ran along, his brain was busy. " If I don't take a 
 cab," he said to himself, " if I follow the woman on 
 foot, I shall have a perfect right to pocket the forty- 
 five sous an hour fifty, counting the gratuity that a 
 cab would cost/' 
 
 But on reaching the Champ Elysees, he discovered, 
 to his regret, that this plan was impracticable, for on 
 running down the Avenue de 1'Imperatrice after the 
 rapidly driven carriage, he could not fail to attract 
 attention. Stifling a sigh of regret, and seeing a cab 
 at a stand near by, he hastily hailed it. "Where do 
 you want to go, sir?" inquired the driver. 
 
 " Just follow that blue victoria, in which a handsome 
 lady is seated, my good fellow." 
 
 The order did not surprise the cabman, but rather the 
 person who gave it ; for in spite of his fine apparel, 
 Chupin did not seem quite the man for such an ad- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 325 
 
 venture. " Excuse me," said the Jehu, in a slightly 
 ironical tone, " I " 
 
 " I said exactly what I mean," retorted Chupin, 
 whose pride was severely wounded. " And no more 
 talk hurry on, or we shall miss the track." 
 
 This last remark was correct, for if Madame d'Ar- 
 geles's coachman had not slackened his horse's speed 
 on passing round the Arc de Triomphe, the woman 
 would have escaped Chupin, for that day at least. 
 However, this circumstance gave the cabman an oppor- 
 tunity to overtake the victoria; and after that the two 
 vehicles kept close together as they proceeded down the 
 Avenue de i'lmperatrice. But at the entrance of the 
 Bois de Boulogne Chupin ordered his driver to stop. 
 "Halt!" he exclaimed; "I shall get out. Pay the 
 extra cab charges for passing beyond the limits of 
 Paris ! never ! I'll crawl on my hands and knees first. 
 Here are forty sous for your fare and good-evening 
 to you." 
 
 And, as the blue victoria was already some distance 
 in advance, he started off at the top of his speed to 
 overtake it. This manoeuvre was the result of his 
 meditations while riding along. " What will this fine 
 lady do when she gets to the Bois ? " he asked himself. 
 "Why, her coachman will take his place in the pro- 
 cession, and drive her slowly round and round the 
 lakes. Meantime I can trot along beside her without 
 attracting attention and it will be good for my health." 
 
 His expectations were realized in every respect. The 
 victoria soon turned to the left, and took its place in 
 the long line of equipages which were slowly winding 
 round the lake. Having gained the foot-path which 
 borders the sheet of water, Chupin followed the car- 
 riage easily enough, with his hands in his pockets, and 
 
326 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 his heart jubilant at the thought that he would gain 
 the sum supposed to have been spent in cab hire, in 
 addition to the compensation which had been promised 
 him. "This is a strange way of enjoying one's self/' 
 he muttered, as he trotted along. " There can't be 
 much pleasure in going round and round this lake. If 
 ever Fm rich, I'll find some other way of amusing 
 myself." 
 
 Poor Chupin did not know that people do not go to 
 the Bois to enjoy themselves,, but rather to torment 
 others. This broad drive is in reality only a field for 
 the airing of vanity a sort of open-air bazaar for the 
 display of dresses and equipages. People come here to 
 see and to be seen; and, moreover, this is neutral 
 ground, where so-called honest women can meet those 
 notorious characters from whom they are elsewhere 
 separated by an impassable abyss. What exquisite 
 pleasure it must be to the dames of society to find them- 
 selves beside Jenny Fancy or Ninette Simplon, or any 
 other of those young ladies whom they habitually call 
 " creatures," but whom they are continually talking of, 
 and whose toilettes, make-up, and jargon, they assidu- 
 ously copy! 
 
 However, Chupin indulged in none of these reflec- 
 tions. He was engaged in noting Madame d'Argeles's 
 evident anxiety and restlessness. She looked eagerly on 
 all sides, sometimes half leaning out of her carriage, 
 and immediately turning her head whenever she heard 
 the gallop of a horseman behind her. She was evi- 
 dently looking or waiting for some one, but the person 
 did not make his appearance, and so, growing weary 
 of waiting, after driving three times round the lake, she 
 made a sign to her coachman, who at once drew out of 
 line, and turned his horse into a side-path. Chupin 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 327 
 
 hastened after the victoria, keeping it in sight until he 
 was fortunate enough to meet an empty cab, which he 
 at once hired. Madame d'Argeles's coachman., who had 
 received his orders, now drove down the Champs 
 Elysees, again crossed the Place de la Concorde, turned 
 into the boulevards, and stopped short at the corner of 
 the Chaussee d'Antin, where, having tied a thick veil 
 over her face, Madame Lia abruptly alighted and 
 walked away. 
 
 This was done so quickly that Chupin barely had time 
 to fling two francs to his driver and rush after her. 
 She had already turned round the corner of the Rue du 
 Helder, and was walking rapidly up the street. It was 
 a little after five o'clock, and dusk was setting in. 
 Madame d'Argeles had taken the side of the street al- 
 lotted to the uneven numbers. After she had passed 
 the Hotel de Homburg, she slackened her pace, and 
 eagerly scrutinized one of the houses opposite No. 48. 
 Her examination lasted but a moment, and seemed to 
 be satisfactory. She then turned, and rapidly retraced 
 her steps as far as the boulevard, when, crossing the 
 street to the side of the even numbers, she walked up 
 it again very slowly, stopping before every shop- 
 window. 
 
 Convinced that he had almost reached the goal, 
 Chupin also crossed, and followed closely at her heels. 
 He soon saw her start and resume her rapid gait. A 
 young man was coming toward her so quickly indeed 
 that she had not time to avoid him, and a collision en- 
 sued, whereupon the young man gave vent to an oath, 
 and hurling an opprobrious epithet in her face, passed 
 on. 
 
 Chupin shuddered. "What if that should be her 
 son ? " he thought. And while he pretended to be gaz- 
 
328 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 ing into a shop window, he stealthily watched the poor 
 woman. She had paused, and he was so near that he 
 could almost have touched her. He saw her raise her 
 veil and follow her insulter with a look which it was 
 impossible to misunderstand. " Oh ! oh ! It was her 
 
 son that called her that " said Chupin to himself. 
 
 quite horrified. And without more ado, he hastened 
 after the young man. 
 
 He was between two and four-and-twenty years of 
 age, rather above the medium height, with very light 
 hair and an extremely pale complexion. His slight 
 mustache would have been almost imperceptible if it 
 had not been dyed several shades darker than his hair. 
 He was attired with that studied carelessness which 
 many consider to be the height of elegance, but which 
 is just the reverse. And his bearing, his mustache, and 
 his low hat, tipped rakishly over one ear, gave him an 
 arrogant, pretentious, rowdyish appearance. " Zounds ! 
 that fellow doesn't suit my fancy/' growled Chupin, as 
 he trotted along. For he was almost running in his 
 efforts to keep pace with Madame d'Argeles's insulter. 
 The latter's haste was soon explained. He was carry- 
 ing a letter which he wished to have delivered, and no 
 doubt he feared he would not be able to find a com- 
 missionaire. Having discovered one at last, he called 
 him, gave him the missive, and then pursued his way 
 more leisurely. 
 
 He had reached the boulevard, when a florid-faced 
 youth, remarkably short and stout, rushed toward him 
 with both hands amicably extended, at the same time 
 crying, loud enough to attract the attention of the 
 passers-by : " Is it possible that this is my dear 
 Wilkie?" 
 
 " Yes alive and in the flesh," replied the young man. 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 329 
 
 " Well, and what the devil have you been doing with 
 yourself? Last Sunday, at the races, I looked for you 
 everywhere, and not a vestige of Wilkie was to be 
 found. However, you were wise not to go. I am three 
 hundred louis out of pocket. I staked everything on 
 Domingo, the Marquis de Valorsay's horse. I thought 
 I was sure to win yes, sure. Well, Domingo came in 
 third. Can you understand that? If every one didn't 
 know that Valorsay was a millionaire, it might be 
 supposed there had been some foul play yes, upon my 
 word that he had bet against his own horse, and for- 
 bidden his jockey to win the race/' But the speaker 
 did not really believe this, so he continued, more gayly : 
 " Fortunately, I shall retrieve my losses to-morrow, at 
 Vincennes. Shall we see you there ?" 
 
 " Probably." 
 
 " Then good-by, until to-morrow." 
 
 "Until to-morrow." 
 
 Thereupon they shook hands, and each departed on 
 his way. 
 
 Chupin had not lost a word of this conversation. 
 " Valorsay a millionaire ! " he said to himself. " That's 
 good! Ah, well! now I know my little gamecock's 
 name, and I also know that he goes to the races. Wilkie 
 that must be an English name; I like the name of 
 d'Argeles better. But where the devil is he going 
 now?" 
 
 M. Wilkie had simply paused to replenish his cigar- 
 case at the tobacco office of the Grand Hotel ; and, after 
 lighting a cigar, he came out again, and walked up the 
 boulevard in the direction of the Faubourg Montmartre. 
 He was no longer in a hurry now; he strolled along 
 in view of killing time, displaying his charms, and 
 staring impudently at every woman who passed. With 
 
330 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 his shoulders drawn up on a level with his ears, and 
 his chest thrown back, he dragged his feet after him 
 as if his limbs were half paralyzed ; he was indeed doing 
 his best to create the impression that he was used up, 
 exhausted, broken down by excesses and dissipation. 
 For that is the fashion the latest fancy chic! 
 
 " Will you never have done ? " growled Chupin. 
 
 " You shall pay for this, you little wretch ! " He was 
 so indignant that the gamin element in his nature stirred 
 again under his fine broadcloth, and he had a wild long- 
 ing to throw stones at M. Wilkie. He would certainly 
 have trodden on his heels, and have picked a quarrel 
 with him, had it not been for a fear of failing in his 
 mission, and thereby losing his promised reward. 
 
 He followed his man closely, for the crowd was very 
 great. Night was coming on, and the gas was lit on 
 all sides. The weather was very mild, and there was 
 not an unoccupied table in front of the cafes, for it was 
 now the absinthe hour. How does it happen that every 
 evening, between five and seven o'clock, every one in 
 Paris who is known who is somebody or something 
 can be found between the Passage de 1'Opera and the 
 Passage Jouffroy? Hereabout you may hear all. the 
 latest news and gossip of the fashionable world, the 
 last political canards all the incidents of Parisian 
 life which will be recorded by the papers on the fol- 
 lowing morning. You may learn the price of stocks, 
 and obtain tips for to-morrow's Bourse; ascertain how 
 much Mademoiselle A's necklace cost, and who gave 
 it to her; with the latest news from Prussia; and the 
 name of the bank chairman or cashier who has ab- 
 sconded during the day, and the amount he has taken 
 with him. 
 
 The crowd became more dense as the Faubourg 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 331 
 
 Montmartre was approached, but Wilkie made his way 
 through the throng with the ease of an old boulevardier. 
 He must have had a large circle of acquaintances, for 
 he distributed bows right and left, and was spoken to 
 by five or six promenaders. He did not pass the Ter- 
 rasse Jouffroy, but, pausing there, he purchased an 
 evening paper, retraced his steps, and about seven 
 o'clock reached the Cafe Riche, which he entered tri- 
 umphantly. He did not even touch the rim of his hat 
 on going in that would have been excessively bad 
 form ; but he called a waiter, in a very loud voice, and 
 imperiously ordered him to serve dinner on a table near 
 the window, where he could see the boulevard and be 
 seen. 
 
 " And now my little fighting-cock is going to feed," 
 thought Chupin. He, too, was hungry; and he was 
 trying to think of some modest restaurant in the neigh- 
 borhood, when two young men passed near him and 
 glanced into the cafe. 
 
 " Look, there's Wilkie ! " observed one of them. 
 
 " That's so, upon my word ! " responded the other. 
 "And he has money, too; fortune has smiled upon 
 him." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " Why, by watching the fellow ; one can tell the con- 
 dition of his purse as correctly as he could himself. If 
 his funds are low, he has his meals brought to his 
 room from a cook-shop where he has credit; his mus- 
 tache droops despondingly ; he is humble even to ser- 
 vility with his friends, and he brushes his hair over his 
 forehead. When he is in average circumstances, he 
 dines at Launay's, waxes his mustache, and brushes his 
 hair back from his face. But when he dines at the Cafe 
 Riche, my boy, when he has dyed his mustache, and tips 
 
332 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 his hat over his ear, and deports himself in that arro- 
 gant fashion, why, he has at least five or six thousand 
 francs in his pocket, and all is well with him. 33 
 
 " Where does he get his money from ? " 
 
 "Who can tell?" 
 
 "Is he rich?" 
 
 " He must have plenty of money I lent him ten 
 louis once, and he paid me back." 
 
 " Zounds ! He's a very honorable fellow, then." 
 Thereupon the two young men laughed, and passed on. 
 
 Chupin had been greatly edified. " Now I know you 
 as well as if I were your concierge," he muttered, ad- 
 dressing the unconscious Wilkie; "and when I've fol- 
 lowed you home,, and learned your number, I shall have 
 richly earned the fifty francs M. Fortunat promised 
 me." As well as he could judge through the window- 
 pane, M. Wilkie was eating his dinner with an ex- 
 cellent appetite. " Ah ! " he exclaimed, not without 
 envy, " these fighting-cocks take good care of their 
 stomachs. He's there for an hour at least, and I shall 
 have time to run and swallow a mouthful myself." 
 
 So saying, Chupin hastened to a small restaurant in 
 a neighboring street, and magnificently disbursed the 
 sum of thirty-nine sous. Such extravagance was un- 
 usual on his part, for he had lived very frugally since 
 he had taken a vow to become rich. Formerly, when 
 he lived from hand to mouth to use his own expres- 
 sion he indulged in cigars and in absinthe; but now 
 he contented himself with the fare of an anchorite, 
 drank nothing but water, and only smoked when some 
 one gave him a cigar. Nor was this any great priva- 
 tion to him, since he gained a penny by it and a penny 
 was another grain of sand added to the foundation of 
 his future wealth. However, this evening he indulged 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 333 
 
 in the extravagance of a glass of wine, deciding in his 
 own mind that he had fairly earned it. 
 
 When he returned to his post in front of the Cafe 
 Riche, M. Wilkie was no longer alone at his table. 
 He was finishing his coffee in the company of a man 
 of his own age, who was remarkably good-looking 
 almost too good-looking, in fact and a glance at 
 whom caused Chupin to exclaim : " What ! what ! I've 
 
 seen that face somewhere before ". But he racked 
 
 his brain in vain in trying to remember who this new- 
 comer was, in trying to set a name on this face, which 
 was positively annoying in its classical beauty, and 
 which he felt convinced had occupied a place among the 
 phantoms of his past. Irritated beyond endurance by 
 what he termed his stupidity, he was trying to decide 
 whether he should enter the cafe or not, when he saw 
 M. Wilkie take his bill from the hands of a waiter, 
 glance at it, and throw a louis on the table. His com- 
 panion had drawn out his pocketbook for the ostensible 
 purpose of paying for the coffee he had taken; but 
 Wilkie, with a cordial gesture, forbade it, and made that 
 magnificent, imperious sign to the waiter, which so 
 clearly implies : " Take nothing ! All is paid ! Keep 
 the change." Thereupon the servant gravely retired, 
 more than ever convinced of the fact that vanity in- 
 creases the fabulous total of Parisian gratuities by more 
 than a million francs a year. 
 
 " My gallant youths are coming out," thought 
 Chupin. " I must keep my ears open." And approach- 
 ing the door, he dropped on one knee, and pretended to 
 be engaged in tying his shoestrings. This is one of the 
 thousand expedients adopted by spies and inquisitive 
 people. And when a man is foolish enough to tell his 
 secrets in the street, he should at least be wise enough 
 
hat over 
 
 " 
 
 
 f an anc: 
 
 iked when 
 
 jiy great ; 
 
 itand a pei ; 
 to the foundation of 
 evening he indulged 
 
 j 
 

 open." And ap 
 e kiKv. and prete 
 
 '? and inq 
 -h enough to 
 
 at least be wise 
 
 ach- 
 d to 
 
 the 
 tive 
 
 his 
 ugh 
 
334 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 to distrust the people near him who pretend to be ab- 
 sorbed in something else; for in nine cases out of ten 
 these persons are listening to him, possibly for pay, or 
 possibly from curiosity. 
 
 However, the young men whom Chupin was watch- 
 ing were far from suspecting that they were under sur- 
 veillance. M. Wilkie came out first, talking very loud, 
 as often happens when a man has just partaken of a 
 good dinner, and is blessed with an excellent digestion. 
 " Come, Coralth, my good fellow, you won't desert me 
 in this way? I have a box for the Varictes, and you 
 must go with me. We'll see if Silly imitates Theresa as 
 perfectly as they say." 
 
 " But I have an appointment." 
 
 " Oh, well, let it wait. Come, viscount, is it agreed ? " 
 
 " Ah, you do with me just as you like.'' 
 
 " Good ! But, first of all let us take a glass of beer 
 to finish our cigars. And do you know whom you will 
 find in my box ? " 
 
 At this moment they passed, and Chupin rose to his 
 feet. " Coralth," he muttered, " Viscount de Coralth. 
 He's not one of our clients. Let me see, Coralth. This 
 is certainly the first time I have ever heard the name. 
 Can it be that I'm mistaken ? Impossible ! " 
 
 The more he reflected, the more thoroughly he be- 
 came convinced of the accuracy of his first impression, 
 consoling himself with the thought that a name has 
 but a slight significance after all. His preoccupation 
 had at least the advantage of shortening the time which 
 he spent in promenading to and fro, while the friends 
 sat outside a cafe smoking and drinking. It was still 
 M. Wilkie who monopolized the conversation, while his 
 companion listened with his elbow resting on the table, 
 occasionally nodding his head in token of approbation. 
 
THE YOUNG MEN WHOM CHUPIN WAS WATCHING WERE FAR FROM SUS- 
 PECTING THAT THEY WERE UNDER SURVEILLANCE 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 335 
 
 One thing that incensed Chupin was that they loitered 
 there, when one of them had a ticket for a box at the 
 theatre in his pocket. 
 
 " Idiots ! " he growled ; " they'll wait till the play's 
 half over before they go in. And then they'll let the 
 doors slam behind them for the express purpose of dis- 
 turbing everybody. Fools, go ! " 
 
 As if they had heard the command., they rose sud- 
 denly, and an instant after they entered the Varietes. 
 They entered, but Chupin remained on the pavement, 
 scratching his head furiously, in accordance with his 
 habit whenever he wished to develop his powers of 
 imagination. He was trying to think how he might 
 procure admission to the theatre without paying for it. 
 For several years he had seen every play put upon 
 the stage in Paris, without spending a sou, and he felt 
 that it would be actually degrading to purchase a ticket 
 at the office now. " Pay to see a farce ! " he thought. 
 " Not I. I must know some one here I'll wait for 
 the entr'acte." 
 
 The wisdom of this course became apparent when 
 among those who left the theatre at the close of the 
 first act he recognized an old acquaintance, who was 
 now working on the claque* and who at once procured 
 him a ticket of admission for nothing. " Well, it is a 
 good thing to have friends everywhere," he muttered, 
 as he took the seat assigned him. 
 
 It was a very good place they had given him a seat 
 in the second gallery commanding an excellent view of 
 the house. The first glance around told him that his 
 " customers/' as he styled them, were in a box exactly 
 
 * The body of hired applauders who are employed at 
 most Parisian theatres to stimulate the enthusiasm of the 
 audience. [Trans.] 
 
336 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 opposite. They were now in the company of two 
 damsels in startling toilettes, with exceedingly dishev- 
 elled yellow hair, who moved restlessly about, and 
 giggled and stared, and tried in every possible way to 
 attract attention. And their stratagem succeeded. 
 However, this did not seem to please the Viscount de 
 Coralth, who kept himself as far back in the shade 
 as he possibly could. But young Wilkie was evidently 
 delighted, and seemed manifestly proud of the atten- 
 tion which the public was compelled to bestow upon 
 his box. He offered himself as much as possible to 
 the gaze of the audience ; moved about, leaned forward, 
 and made himself fully as conspicuous as his fair com- 
 panions. Less than ever did Chupin now forgive 
 Wilkie for the insult he had cast in the face of Madame 
 Lia d'Argeles,, who was probably his mother. 
 
 As for the play, M. Fortunat's emissary did not hear 
 twenty words of it. He was so overcome with fatigue 
 that he soon fell asleep. The noise and bustle of each 
 entr'acte aroused him a little, but he did not thoroughly 
 wake up until the close of the performance. His " cus- 
 tomers " were still in their box, and M. Wilkie was 
 gallantly wrapping the ladies in their cloaks and shawls. 
 In the vestibule, he and M. de Coralth were joined by 
 several other young men, and the whole party ad- 
 journed to a neighboring cafe. " These people are 
 certainly afflicted with an unquenchable thirst/' 
 growled Chupin. " I wonder if this is their everyday 
 life?" 
 
 He, too, was thirsty after his hastily eaten dinner; 
 and necessity prevailing over economy, he seated him- 
 self at a table outside the cafe, and called for a glass 
 of beer, in which he moistened his parched lips with a 
 sigh of intense satisfaction. He sipped the beverage 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 337 
 
 slowly, in order to make it last the longer, but this 
 did not prevent his glass from becoming dry long 
 before M. Wilkie and his friends were ready to leave. 
 " It seems to me we are going to stay here all night/' 
 he thought, angrily. 
 
 His ill-humor was not strange under the circum- 
 stances, for it was one o'clock in the morning; and 
 after carrying all the tables and chairs round about, 
 inside, a waiter came to ask Chupin to go away. All 
 the other cafes were closing too, and the fastening of 
 bolts or the clanking of shutter chains could be heard 
 on every side. On the pavement stood groups of wait- 
 ers in their shirt-sleeves, stretching and yawning, and 
 inhaling the fresh night air with delight. The boule- 
 vard was fast becoming deserted the men were 
 going off in little groups, and female forms could be 
 seen gliding along in the dark shadow cast by the 
 houses. The police were watching everywhere, with 
 a word of menace ever ready on their lips ; and soon 
 the only means of egress from the cafes were the nar- 
 row, low doorways cut in the shutters through which 
 the last customers the insatiable, who are always 
 ordering one thimbleful more to finish passed out. 
 
 It was through a portal of this sort that M. Wilkie 
 and his companions at last emerged, and on perceiving 
 them, Chupin gave a grunt of satisfaction. ee At last," 
 he thought, " I can follow the man to his door, take 
 his number, and go home.'' 
 
 But his joy was short-lived, for M. Wilkie proposed 
 that the whole party should go and take supper. M. 
 de Coralth demurred to the idea, but the others over- 
 ruled his objections., and dragged him away with them. 
 
338 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " AH ! this is a bad job ! " growled Chupin. " Go, go, 
 and never stop ! " 
 
 What exasperated him even more than his want of 
 sleep was the thought that his good mother must be 
 waiting for him at home in an agony of anxiety; for 
 since his reformation he had become remarkably reg- 
 ular in his habits. What should he do ? " Go home/' 
 said Reason ; " it will be easy enough to find this Wilkie 
 again. There can be little doubt that he lives at No. 
 48, in the Rue du Helder." "Remain," whispered 
 Avarice ; " and, since you have accomplished so much, 
 finish your work. M. Fortunat won't pay for conjec- 
 tures, but for a certainty." 
 
 Love of money carried the day; so, weaving an in- 
 terminable chaplet of oaths, he followed the party until 
 they entered Brebant's restaurant, one of the best 
 known establishments which remain open at night- 
 time. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning now; 
 the boulevard was silent and deserted, and yet this 
 restaurant was brilliantly lighted from top to bottom, 
 and snatches of song and shouts of laughter, with the 
 clatter of knives and forks and the clink of glasses, 
 could be heard through the half opened windows. 
 
 "Eight dozen Marennes for No. 6," shouted a 
 waiter to the man who opened oysters near the res- 
 taurant door. 
 
 On hearing this order, Chupin shook his clenched 
 fist at the stars. "The wretches!" he muttered 
 through his set teeth; "bad luck to them! Those 
 oysters are for their mouths, plainly enough, for there 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 339 
 
 are eight of them in all, counting those yellow-haired 
 women. They will, no doubt., remain at table until 
 six o'clock in the morning. And they call this enjoy- 
 ing themselves. And meanwhile, poor little Chupin 
 must wear out his shoe-leather on the pavement. Ah ! 
 they shall pay for this ! " 
 
 It ought to have been some consolation to him to 
 see that he was not alone in his misery, for in front 
 of the restaurant stood a dozen cabs with sleepy driv- 
 ers, who were waiting for chance to send them one 
 of those half-intoxicated passengers who refuse to pay 
 more than fifteen sous for their fare, but give their 
 Jehu a gratuity of a louis. All these vehicles belonged 
 to the peculiar category known as " night cabs " 
 dilapidated conveyances with soiled, ragged linings, and 
 drawn by half-starved, jaded horses. 
 
 However, Chupin neither thought of these vehicles, 
 nor of the poor horses, nor, indeed, of the drivers 
 themselves. His wrath had been succeeded by philo- 
 sophical resignation ; he accepted with good grace what 
 he could not avoid. As the night air had become very 
 cool, he turned up the collar of his overcoat, and be- 
 gan to pace to and fro on the pavement in front of 
 the restaurant. He had made a hundred turns per- 
 haps, passing the events of the day in review, when 
 suddenly such a strange and startling idea flashed 
 across his mind that he stood motionless, lost in aston- 
 ishment. Reflecting on the manner in which M. Wilkie 
 and the Viscount de Coralth had behaved during the 
 evening, a singular suspicion assailed him. While M. 
 Wilkie gradually lost his wits, M. de Coralth had be- 
 come remarkably cold and reserved. He had seemed 
 to oppose all M. Wilkie's propositions; but he had 
 agreed to them at last, so that his objections had pro- 
 
340 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 duced much the same effect as a stimulant. It seemed 
 then as if M. de Coralth had some strange interest in 
 wishing to gain ascendency over his friend. At least 
 such was Chupin's opinion. " Oh, oh ! " he murmured. 
 e< What if he should be working up the same little 
 scheme? What if he were acquainted with Madame 
 Lia d' Argeles ? What if he knew that there's a fortune 
 waiting for a claimant? I shouldn't at all be surprised 
 if I found that he wanted to cook his bread in our 
 oven. But father Fortunat wouldn't be pleased with 
 the news. Ah ! no he wouldn't even smile " 
 
 While carrying on this little conversation with him- 
 self, he stood just in front of the restaurant, looking 
 up into the air, when all of a sudden a window was 
 thrown noisily open, and the figures of two men be- 
 came plainly visible. They were engaged in a friendly 
 struggle ; one of them seemed to be trying to seize hold 
 of something which the other had in his hand, and 
 which he refused to part with. One of these men was 
 M. Wilkie as Chupin at once perceived. " Good ! " he 
 said to himself ; " this is the beginning of the end ! " 
 
 As he spoke, M. Wilkie's hat fell on the window-sill, 
 slipped off, and dropped on to the pavement below. 
 With a natural impulse Chupin picked it up, and he 
 was turning it over and over in his hands, when M. 
 Wilkie leant out of the window and shouted in a voice 
 that was thick with wine : " Halloo ! Eh, there ! Who 
 picked up my hat? Honesty shall be rewarded. A 
 glass of champagne and a cigar for the fellow who'll 
 bring it me in room No. 6." 
 
 Chupin hesitated. By going up, he might, perhaps, 
 compromise the success of his mission. But on the 
 other hand his curiosity was aroused, and he very much 
 wished to see, with his own eyes, how these young men 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 341 
 
 were amusing themselves. Besides, he would have an 
 opportunity of examining this handsome viscount, 
 whom he was certain he had met before, though he 
 could not tell when or where. In the meantime, M, 
 Wilkie had perceived him. 
 
 " Come, you simpleton ! " he cried ; " make haste. 
 You can't be very thirsty." 
 
 The thought of the viscount decided Chupin. Enter- 
 ing the restaurant and climbing the staircase, he had 
 just reached the landing when a pale-looking man, 
 who had a smoothly-shaven face and was dressed in 
 black, barred his way and asked: "What do you 
 want?" 
 
 " M'sieur, here's a hat which fell from one of your 
 windows and " 
 
 " All right, hand it here." 
 
 But Chupin did not seem to hear this order. He was 
 beginning a long explanation, when a curtain near by 
 was pushed aside, and M. Wilkie called out : " Philippe ! 
 eh, Philippe ! bring me the man who picked up my 
 hat." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Chupin, " you see, m'sieur, that he asks 
 for me." 
 
 "Very well," said Philippe. "Go on, then." And 
 raising the portiere he pushed Chupin into room No. 6. 
 
 It was a small, square apartment, with a very low 
 ceiling. The temperature was like that of a furnace, 
 and the glare of the gaslights almost blinded one. The 
 supper was over, but the table had not yet been cleared, 
 and plates full of leavings showed that the guests had 
 fairly exhausted their appetites. Still, with the excep- 
 tion of M. Wilkie 3 every one present seemed to be 
 terribly bored. In one corner, with her head resting 
 on a piano, sat one of the yellow-haired damsels, fast 
 
342 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 asleep, while, beside the window, M. de Coralth was 
 smoking with his elbows propped upon the table. The 
 four other young men were looking on phlegmatically. 
 " Ah ! here's my hat/' exclaimed M. Wilkie, as soon 
 as Chupin appeared. " Wait and receive your prom- 
 ised reward." And thereupon he rang the bell, crying 
 at the top of his voice : " Henry, you sleepy-head a 
 clean glass and some more of the widow Cliquot's 
 champagne ! " 
 
 Several bottles were standing upon the table, only 
 half empty, and one of M. Wilkie's friends called his 
 attention to this fact, but he shrugged his shoulders 
 disdainfully. " You must take me for a fool," he said, 
 contemptuously. " A man doesn't drink stale wine 
 when he has the prospect of such an inheritance as is 
 coming to me " 
 
 "Wilkie!" interrupted M. de Coralth, quickly; 
 " Wilkie ! " 
 
 But he was too late; Chupin had heard and under- 
 stood everything. His conjectures had proved correct. 
 M. Wilkie knew his right to the estate; M. Fortunat 
 had been forestalled by the viscount, and would merely 
 have his labor for his pains. "No chance for the 
 guv'nor ! " thought the agent's emissary. " And what 
 a blow after the De Valorsay affair! It's enough to 
 give him the jaundice ! " 
 
 For a youth of his age, Chupin controlled his feelings 
 admirably; but the revelation came so suddenly that 
 he had started despite himself, and changed color a 
 trifle. M. de Coralth saw this ; and, though he was far 
 from suspecting the truth, his long repressed anger 
 burst forth. He rose abruptly, took up a bottle, and 
 rilling the nearest glass, he rudely exclaimed : " Come, 
 drink that make haste and clear out ! " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 343 
 
 Victor Chupin must have become very sensitive since 
 his conversion. In former times he was not wont to 
 be so susceptible as to lose his temper when some one 
 chanced to address him in a rather peremptory manner, 
 or to offer him wine out of the first available glass. 
 But M. de Coralth inspired him with one of those in- 
 explicable aversions which cannot be restrained. " Eh ! 
 tell me if it's because we've drank champagne to- 
 gether before that you talk to me like that? " the young 
 fellow retorted, savagely. 
 
 It was only a random shot, but it reached home. The 
 viscount seemed touched to the quick. " You hear that, 
 Wilkie," said he. " This will teach you that the time 
 of your compatriot, Lord Seymour^ has passed by. 
 The good-humored race of plebeians who respectfully 
 submitted to the blows with which noblemen honored 
 them after drinking, has died out. This ought to cure 
 you of your unfortunate habit of placing yourself on 
 terms of equality with all the vagabonds you meet." 
 
 Chupin's hair fairly bristled with anger. " What ! 
 what ! " he exclaimed ; " I'll teach you to call me a 
 vagabond, you scoundrel ! " 
 
 His gesture, his attitude, and his eyes were so ex- 
 pressive of defiance and menace that two of the guests 
 sprang up and caught him by the arm. " Go, go," they 
 said. 
 
 But he freed himself from their grasp. " Go ! " he 
 replied. "Never! He called me a vagabond. Am I 
 to pocket the insult quietly and walk off with it ? You 
 can scarcely expect that. First, I demand an apology." 
 
 This was asking too much of the Viscount de Co- 
 ralth. " Let the fool alone," he remarked, with affected 
 coolness, "and ring for the waiters to kick him out." 
 
344 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 It did not require this new insult to put Chupin in a 
 furious passion. " Come on ! " he exclaimed. " Ah, 
 ha ! Where's the fellow who'll turn me out ? Let him 
 come. I'll teach him a lesson ! " And as he spoke he 
 squared his shoulders, inflated his chest, and threw the 
 weight of his entire body on his left leg, after the 
 most approved method of sparring-masters. 
 
 " Go, go ! " insisted Wilkie's friends. 
 
 " Yes, I'll go with pleasure, but your friend must go, 
 too. Is he a man ? Then let him come, and we'll settle 
 this outside." And seeing that they were again trying 
 to seize him: "Hands off!" he thundered, "or I'll 
 strike. You were not obliged to invite me here. It 
 isn't my business to furnish amusement to parties 
 who've drunk too much wine. And why should you 
 despise me? It's true I haven't any money while you 
 have plenty that I work and you carouse. Still that's 
 no reason why you should scorn me. Besides, those 
 who are poor in the morning are sometimes rich in the 
 evening. Every dog has his day. I have an idea that 
 I shall have some coin when yours is all gone. Then 
 it will be my turn to laugh ; and as I'm a good-natured 
 fellow, I will give you my half-smoked cigars." 
 
 M. Wilkie seemed delighted. He had climbed on to 
 the piano and seated himself, with his feet on the key- 
 board; and there, as on a judgment seat, he listened 
 and applauded, alternately taking Chupin's part, and 
 then the viscount's. "Bravo, gamin!" or, "Give it to 
 him, Coralth ! " he shouted in turn. 
 
 This irritated the viscount exceedingly. " I see that 
 we shall be obliged to call in the police to settle the 
 affair," he said, sneeringly. 
 
 "The police!" roared Chupin. "Ah! that won't 
 do, you scamp " But his voice died away in his 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 345 
 
 throat, and he stood motionless, speechless, with his 
 arm raised as if he were about to strike, and his eyes 
 dilated with astonishment. 
 
 For a change of expression in M. de Coralth's face 
 had enlightened him ; and he suddenly recollected when 
 and under what circumstances he had known this so- 
 called viscount. He remembered, too, the name he had 
 borne when he first met him. " Oh ! " he stammered ; 
 " oh ! oh ! 
 
 However, the effect of this discovery was to dispel 
 his anger, or rather to restore his calmness, and, ad- 
 dressing M. de Coralth, he exclaimed : " Don't be angry 
 at what I've said, m'sieur; it was only a jest I know 
 that there's a wide difference between a poor devil 
 like me and a viscount like you I haven't a sou, you 
 see, and that maddens me. But I'm not so very bad- 
 looking,, fortunately, and I'm always hoping that the 
 daughter of some rich banker will fall in love with me 
 and marry me. Some people have such luck, you 
 know. If I meet with any you may be sure I shall pass 
 myself off as the lost child of some great personage 
 of a duke, for instance and if the real son exists, and 
 troubles me, why I'll quietly put him out of the way, 
 if possible." 
 
 With but one exception the persons present did not 
 understand a single word of this apparent nonsense; 
 and indeed the yellow-haired damsels stared at the 
 speaker in amazement. Still it was evident that each 
 of these words had a meaning, and a terrible meaning 
 for M. de Coralth. Accustomed for years to control 
 his features, he remained apparently unmoved he even 
 smiled; but a close observer could have detected an- 
 guish in his eyes, and he had become very pale. At 
 last, unable to endure the scene any longer, he drew a 
 
346 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 hundred-franc bank-note from his pocketbook, crumpled 
 it in his hand and threw it at Chupin, saying : " That's 
 a very pretty story you are telling, my boy; but we've 
 had enough of it. Take your pay and leave us." 
 
 Unfortunately, the note struck Chupin full in the 
 face. He uttered a hoarse cry of rage, and, by the 
 way in which he seized and brandished an empty bottle, 
 it might have been imagined that M. de Coralth was 
 about to have his head broken. But no. Thanks to a 
 supreme effort of will, Chupin conquered this mad 
 fury; and, dropping the bottle, he remarked to the 
 young women who were uttering panic-stricken shrieks : 
 " Be quiet ; don't you see that I was only in fun." 
 
 But even M. Wilkie had found the fun a little rough, 
 and even dangerous. Several of the young fellows 
 present sprang up, with the evident intention of push- 
 ing Chupin out of the room, but he checked them with 
 a gesture. " Don't disturb yourselves, gentlemen/' he 
 said. " I'm going, only let me find the bank-note 
 which this gentleman threw at me." 
 
 " That's quite proper," replied M. Wilkie, approv- 
 ingly ; " look for it." 
 
 Chupin did so, and at last found it lying almost under 
 the piano. " Now," he remarked, " I should like a 
 cigar." 
 
 A score or so were lying in a dish. He gravely 
 selected one of them and coolly cut off the end of it 
 before placing it in his mouth. Those around watched 
 him with an air of profound astonishment, not under- 
 standing this ironical calmness following so closely 
 upon such a storm of passion. Then he, Victor Chupin, 
 who had, it seems to me, but one aim in life to be- 
 come rich Victor Chupin, who loved money above 
 anything else, and had stifled all other passions in his 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 347 
 
 soul he who often worked two whole days to earn 
 five francs he who did not disdain to claim his five 
 sous when he went to hire a cab for his employer he, 
 Chupin, twisted the bank-note in his fingers,, lit it at 
 the gas, and used it to light his cigar. 
 
 " Ah ! he's crazy ! " murmured the yellow-haired 
 damsels, with despair in their voices. 
 
 But M. Wilkie was enthusiastic. " There's form ! " 
 said he. " Fine form and no mistake ! " 
 
 But Chupin did not even deign to turn his head. He 
 opened the door, and standing on the threshold, he 
 bowed to M. de Coralth with an ironical smile. " Un- 
 til we meet again, Monsieur Paul/' said he. " And 
 kindly remember me to Madame Paul, if you please/* 
 
 If the others had been less astonished, they would 
 have no doubt have remarked the prodigious effect of 
 this name upon their brilliant friend. He became 
 ghastly pale and fell back in his chair. Then, sud- 
 denly, he bounded up as if he wished to attack his 
 enemy. But pursuit seemed likely to yield no result, 
 for Chupin was already on the boulevard. 
 
 It was daybreak. Paris was waking up; the bakers 
 were standing at their doors, and boys in their shirt- 
 sleeves', with their eyes swollen with sleep, were taking 
 down the shutters of the wine-shops. A cloud of 
 dust, raised by the street-sweepers, hung in the dis- 
 tance; the rag-pickers wandered about, peering among 
 the rubbish; the noisy milk-carts jolted along at a 
 gallop, and workmen were proceeding to their daily 
 toil, with hunches of bread in their hands. The morn- 
 ing air was very chilly; nevertheless, Chupin seated 
 himself on a bench across the boulevard, at a spot 
 where he could watch the entrance of the restaurant 
 without being seen. He had just experienced one of 
 
348 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 those sudden shocks which so disturb the mind, that 
 one becomes insensible to outward circumstances, what- 
 ever they may be. He had recognized in the so-called 
 Viscount de Coralth, the man whom he had hated above 
 all others in the world, or, rather, the only man whom 
 he hated, for his was not a bad heart Impressionable 
 to excess like a true child of the faubourgs,, he had 
 the Parisian's strange mobility of feeling. If his anger 
 was kindled by a trifle, the merest nothing usually suf- 
 ficed to extinguish it. But matters were different re- 
 specting this handsome viscount ! " God ! how I hate 
 him ! " he hissed through his set teeth. " God ! how I 
 hate him!" 
 
 For once, years before, as he had confessed to M. 
 Fortunat, Chupin had been guilty of a cowardly and 
 abominable act, which had nearly cost a man his life. 
 And this crime, if it had been successful, would have 
 benefited the very fellow who concealed his sinful, 
 shameful past under the high-sounding name of Co- 
 ralth. How was it that Chupin had not recognized him 
 at once? Because he had worked for this fellow with- 
 out knowing him, receiving his orders through the mis- 
 erable wretches who pandered to his vices. He had 
 only seen him personally once or twice, and had never 
 spoken to him. Later too late he discovered what 
 vile intrigue it was that he had served. And when he 
 became sincerely repentant he loathed this Coralth who 
 had caused his crime. 
 
 Nor was this all. The recognition of Coralth had 
 inspired him with remorse. It had aroused in the 
 recesses of his conscience a threatening voice which 
 cried : " What are you doing here ? You are acting as 
 a spy for a man you distrust, and whose real designs 
 you are ignorant of. It was in this way you began 
 
THE COUNTS MILLIONS 349 
 
 before. Have you forgotten what it led to ? Have you 
 not sin enough already upon your conscience? Blood 
 enough upon your hands? It is folly to pretend that 
 one may serve as a tool for villains, and still remain 
 an honest man ! " 
 
 It was this voice which had given Chupin the cour- 
 age to light his cigar with the bank-note. And this 
 voice still tortured him, as seated on the bench he now 
 tried to review the situation. Where, indeed, was he? 
 With rare good luck he had discovered the son whom 
 Madame Lia d'Argeles had so long and successfully 
 concealed. But contrary to all expectations, this young 
 fellow already knew of the inheritance which he was 
 entitled to. M. de Coralth had already achieved what 
 M. Fortunat had meant to do; and so the plan was a 
 failure, and it was useless to persist in it. 
 
 This would have ended the matter if Chupin had not 
 chanced to know the Viscount de Coralth's shameful 
 past. And this knowledge changed everything, for it 
 gave him the power to interfere in a most effectual 
 manner. Armed with this secret, he could bestow the 
 victory on M. Fortunat, and force M. de Coralth to 
 capitulate. And he could do this all the more easily, as 
 he was sure that Coralth had not recognized him, and 
 that he was perhaps ignorant of his very existence. 
 Chupin had allowed himself to be carried away by a 
 sudden impulse of anger which he regretted; he had 
 made an ironical illusion to his enemy's past life, but 
 after all this had done no particular harm. So nothing 
 prevented him from lending M. Fortunat his assist- 
 ance, and thus killing two birds with one stone. He 
 could have his revenge on Coralth, and at the same 
 time insure his patron a large fee, of which he could 
 claim a considerable share for himself. But no ! The 
 
350 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 idea of deriving any profit whatever from this affair 
 inspired him with a feeling of disgust honor tri- 
 umphed over his naturally crafty and avaricious nature. 
 It seemed to him that any money made in this way 
 would soil his fingers: for he realized there must be 
 some deep villainy under all this plotting and planning ; 
 he was sure of it, since Coralth was mixed up in 
 the affair. " I will serve my guv'nor for nothing," 
 he decided. " When a man is avenged, he's well 
 paid." 
 
 Chupin decided upon this course because he could 
 think of no better plan. Still, if he had been master 
 of events he would have acted otherwise. He would 
 have quietly presented the government with this in- 
 heritance which he found M. Wilkie so unworthy of. 
 "The devil only knows what he'll do with it," he 
 thought. " He'll squander it as my father squandered 
 the fortune that w r as given him. It is only fools who 
 meet with such luck as that." 
 
 However, his meditations did not prevent him from 
 keeping a close watch over the restaurant, for it was 
 of the utmost importance that M. Wilkie should not 
 escape him. It was now broad daylight, and customers 
 were leaving the establishment ; for, after passing what 
 is generally conceded to be a joyous night, they felt the 
 need of returning home to rest and sleep. Chupin 
 watched them as they emerged. There were some who 
 came out with drooping heads, mumbling incoherent 
 phrases ; while others who were equally intoxicated, but 
 more nervous, evinced considerable animation, and sang 
 snatches of songs, or jested loudly with the street- 
 sweepers as they passed on. The more sober, sur- 
 prised by the sunlight, and blushing at themselves, 
 slunk hastily and quietly away. There was one man, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 351 
 
 moreover., whom the waiters were obliged to carry to 
 his cab, for he could no longer stand on his feet. 
 
 At last Chupin saw the individual clad in black whom 
 Wilkie had addressed as Philippe, and who had en- 
 deavored to prevent him from entering the restaurant, 
 come out, and walk rapidly away. He was warmly clad 
 in a thick overcoat,, but he shivered, and his pale, wan 
 face betrayed the man who is a martyr to the pleasures 
 of others the man who is condemned to be up all night 
 and sleep only in the daytime the man who can tell 
 you how much folly and beastliness lurk in the depths 
 of the wine-cup, and who knows exactly how many 
 yawns are expressed by the verb " to amuse one's self." 
 Chupin was beginning to feel uneasy. " Can M. Wilkie 
 and his friends have made their escape ? " he wondered. 
 
 But at that very moment they made their appear- 
 ance. They lingered awhile on the pavement to chat, 
 and Chupin had an opportunity of observing the effect 
 of their night's dissipation on their faces. The brilliant 
 sunlight made their eyes blink, and the cold sent purple 
 blotches to their bloated cheeks. As for the young 
 women with yellow hair, they appeared as they really 
 were hideous. They entered the only cab that re- 
 mained, the most dilapidated one of all, and the driver 
 of which had no little difficulty in setting his horse in 
 motion; whereupon the gentlemen went off on foot. 
 
 Many persons would have been vexed and even hu- 
 miliated by the necessity of appearing at this hour on 
 the boulevard in disorderly attire, which plainly indi- 
 cated that they had spent the night in debauchery. But 
 with the exception of the Viscount de Coralth, who was 
 evidently out of humor, the party seemed delighted with 
 themselves, as it was easy to see by the way they met 
 the glances of the passers-by. They considered them- 
 
352 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 selves first-class form they were producing an effect 
 they were astonishing people. And what more could 
 they desire? 
 
 One thing is certain they were irritating Chupin 
 terribly. He was following them on the opposite side 
 of the boulevard, at some little distance in the rear, for 
 he was afraid of being recognized. " The wretches ! " 
 he growled. " One couldn't draw a pint of manly blood 
 from the veins of all six of them. Ah, if they knew 
 how I hate them ! " 
 
 But he had not long to nurse his wrath. On reach- 
 ing the Rue Drouot, two of the gentlemen left the 
 party, and two more went down the Rue Lepelletier. 
 M. Wilkie and the viscount were left to walk down the 
 boulevard alone. They linked their arms and carried 
 on an animated conversation until they reached the 
 Rue du Helder, where they shook hands and separated. 
 What had they said at parting? What agreement had 
 been made between them? Chupin would willingly 
 have given a hundred sous from his private purse to 
 have known. He would have given as much more to 
 have been able to double himself, in order to pursue the 
 viscount, who had started off in the direction of the 
 Madeleine, without having to give up watching and 
 following his friend. But the days of miracles are 
 over. So Chupin sighed, and, following Wilkie, he 
 soon saw him enter No. 48 of the Rue du Helder. The 
 concierge, who was at the door busily engaged in pol- 
 ishing the bell-handle, bowed respectfully. " So there 
 it is ! " grumbled Chupin. " I knew he lived there 
 I knew it by the way that Madame d'Argeles looked at 
 the windows yesterday evening. Poor woman ! Ah ! 
 her son's a fine fellow and no mistake ! " 
 
 His compassion for the unhappy mother seemed to 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 353 
 
 recall him to a sense of duty. " Scoundrel that I am ! " 
 he exclaimed, striking his forehead with his clenched 
 fist. " Why, Fm forgetting my own good mother ! " 
 And as his task was now ended, he started off on the 
 run, taking the shortest cut to the Faubourg Saint- 
 Denis. " Poor mother ! " he said to himself as he tore 
 along, " what a night she must have had ! She must 
 have cried her eyes out ! " 
 
 He spoke the truth. The poor woman had passed a 
 night of agony counting the hours, and trembling 
 each time the door of the house opened, announcing 
 some tenant's return. And as morning approached, her 
 anxiety increased. <e For her son would not have al- 
 lowed her to remain in such suspense/' she said to 
 herself, " unless he had met with some accident or en- 
 countered some of his former friends those detestable 
 scamps who had tried to make him as vile as them- 
 selves." Perhaps he had met his father, Polyte 
 Chupin, the man whom she still loved in spite of 
 everything, because he was her husband, but whom she 
 judged, and whom indeed she knew, to be capable of 
 any crime. And of all misfortunes, it was an accident, 
 even a fatal accident, that she dreaded least. In her 
 heroic soul the voice of honor spoke even more loudly 
 than the imperious instinct of maternity ; and she would 
 rather have found her son lying dead on the marble 
 slabs of the Morgue than seated in the dock at the 
 Assize Court. 
 
 Her poor eyes were weary of weeping when she at 
 last recognized Victor's familiar step approaching down 
 the passage. She hastily opened the door, and as soon 
 as she felt that he was near her, for she could not see 
 him, she asked: "Where have you spent the night? 
 Where have you come from? What has happened?" 
 
354 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 His only answer was to fling his arms round her 
 neck, following alike the impulse of his heart and the 
 advice of experience, which told him that this would 
 be the best explanation he could give. Still it did not 
 prevent him from trying to justify himself, although 
 he was careful not to confess the truth, for he 
 dreaded his mother's censure, knowing well enough 
 that she would be less indulgent than his own con- 
 science. 
 
 " I believe you, my son/' said the good woman, 
 gravely; "you wouldn't deceive me, I'm sure." And 
 she added : " What reassured me, when you kissed me, 
 was that you hadn't been drinking." 
 
 Chupin did not speak a word; this confidence made 
 him strangely uneasy. " May I be hung/' he thought, 
 "if after this I ever do anything that I can't confess 
 to this poor good woman ! " 
 
 But he hadn't time for sentimental reflections. He 
 had gone too far to draw back, and it was necessary 
 for him to report the result of his researches as soon 
 as possible. Accordingly, he hastily ate a morsel, for 
 he was faint with hunger, and started out again, prom- 
 ising to return to dinner. He was in all the greater 
 haste as it was Sunday. M. Fortunat was in the habit 
 of passing these days in the country, and Chupin feared 
 he might fail to see him if he was not expeditious in 
 his movements. And while running to the Place de 
 la Bourse, he carefully prepared the story he meant to 
 relate, deeply impressed by the wisdom of the popular 
 maxim which says : " It is not always well to tell the 
 whole truth." Ought he to describe the scene at the 
 restaurant, mention Coralth, and say that there was 
 nothing more to be done respecting M. Wilkie? After 
 mature deliberation he decided in the negative. If he 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 355 
 
 revealed everything, M. Fortunat might become dis- 
 couraged and abandon the affair. It would be better 
 to let him discover the truth himself, and profit by his 
 anger to indicate a means of vengeance. 
 
 It happened that M. Fortunat had decided not to 
 go to the country that Sunday. He had slept later than 
 usual, and was still in his dressing-gown when Chupin 
 made his appearance. He uttered a joyful cry on see- 
 ing his emissary, feeling assured that he must be the 
 bearer of good news, since he came so early. ee You 
 have succeeded, then ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " You have discovered Madame d'Argeles's son ? " 
 
 " I have him." 
 
 " Ah ! I knew that you were a clever fellow. Quick, 
 tell me everything. But no, wait a moment." 
 
 He rang the bell, and Madame Dodelin at once made 
 her appearance. " Put another plate on the table," 
 said the agent. " M. Chupin will breakfast with me 
 and serve' us at once. You agree, don't you, Victor ? 
 It's ten o'clock; I'm hungry; and we can talk better 
 over a bottle of wine." 
 
 This was a great honor ; and it gave Chupin a fitting 
 idea of the value of the service he had rendered. He 
 was not too much elated, however ; though he felt very 
 sorry that he had eaten before he came. On his side, 
 M. Fortunat by no means regretted having conferred 
 this favor on his clerk, for the story which the latter 
 related, caused him intense delight. " Very good ! 
 well done," he exclaimed every other minute. " I could 
 not have done better myself. You shall be abundantly 
 rewarded, Victor, if this affair is successful." And 
 at this thought his satisfaction overflowed in a com- 
 placent monologue : " Why shouldn't it succeed ? " he 
 
356 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 asked himself. " Could anything be more simple and 
 certain? I can make any demand I please one, two, 
 three hundred thousand francs. Ah, it was a good 
 thing that the Count de Chalusse died! Now, I can 
 forgive Valorsay. Let him keep my forty thousand 
 francs; he's quite welcome to them! Let him marry 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite; I wish them a large and 
 flourishing family! And Madame d'Argeles, too, has 
 my benediction ! " 
 
 He was so confident his fortune was made that at 
 noon he could restrain himself no longer. He hired 
 a cab and accompanied by Chupin he set out for M. 
 Wilkie's abode, declaring that he would wake that 
 young gentleman up if needs be, but at all events he 
 must see him without delay. When he reached the 
 Rue du Helder, he told Chupin to wait in the cab, 
 and then entering the house, he asked : " Monsieur 
 Wilkie?" 
 
 " On the second floor, the door to the right/' replied 
 the concierge. 
 
 M. Fortunat ascended the stairs very slowly, for he 
 felt the necessity of regaining all his composure, and 
 it was not until he had brought himself to a proper 
 frame of mind that he rang the bell. A small servant, 
 M. Wilkie's fag, who took his revenge in robbing his 
 employer most outrageously, came to the door, and 
 began by declaring that his master was out of town. 
 But M. Fortunat understood how to force doors open, 
 and his manoeuvres succeeded so well that he was 
 finally allowed to enter a small sitting-room, while the 
 servant went off, saying : " I will go and inform mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 Instead of wasting time in congratulating himself on 
 this first achievement the agent began to inspect the 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 357 
 
 room in which he found himself., as well as another 
 apartment, the door of which stood open. For he was 
 of the opinion that a dwelling-place indicates the char- 
 acter of its inmate, as surely as a shell indicates the 
 form of the creature that inhabits it M. Wilkie was 
 comfortably lodged ; but his rooms were most preten- 
 tiously ornamented. They were indeed decorated in 
 more than doubtful taste. There were very few books 
 lying about, but costly riding-whips, spurs, rifles, cart- 
 ridge-boxes, and all the paraphernalia of a fashionable 
 sporting man, were here in abundance. 
 
 The only pictures on the wall were a few portraits 
 of celebrated horses, which foreshadowed the fact that 
 M. Wilkie must have, at least, an eighth share in some 
 well-known racer. After this inspection, M. Fortunat 
 smiled complacently. "This young fellow has ex- 
 pensive tastes," he thought. e< It will be very easy to 
 manage him." 
 
 However his reflections were interrupted by the re- 
 turn of the servant, who exclaimed : " My master is in 
 the dining-room, and if monsieur will enter " 
 
 The heir-hunter did enter, and found himself face to 
 face with M. Wilkie, who was partaking of a cup of 
 chocolate. He was not only up, but he was dressed 
 to go out dressed in such a style that he would have 
 been taken for a respectable groom. A couple of hours' 
 sleep had made him himself again ; and he had regained 
 the arrogance of manner which was the distinguishing 
 trait of his character, and a sure sign that he was in 
 prosperous circumstances. As his unknown visitor 
 entered he looked up, and bruskly asked: "What do 
 you want ? " 
 
 (t I called on business, monsieur." 
 
 " Ah, well ! this isn't a favorable moment. I must 
 
358 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 be at Vincennes for the races. I'm interested in a 
 horse. So, you understand " 
 
 M. Fortunat was secretly amused by M. Wilkie's 
 nonchalance. " The young fellow won't be in so much 
 of a hurry when he learns my business/' he thought. 
 And he replied aloud : " I can explain what brings me 
 in a few words,, monsieur." 
 
 " Proceed, then." 
 
 M. Fortunat began by closing the door which had 
 been intentionally left open by the servant; and then, 
 returning to M. Wilkie's side, he began with an air of 
 the greatest mystery : " What would you give a shrewd 
 man if he suddenly placed you in undisputed possession 
 of an immense fortune of a million two millions, 
 perhaps ? " 
 
 He had prepared this little effect most carefully, and 
 he fully expected to see M. Wilkie fall on his knees 
 before him. But not at all ; the young gentleman's face 
 never moved a muscle ; and it was in the calmest possi- 
 ble tone, and with his mouth half full that he 
 replied : " I know the rest. You come, don't you, to 
 sell me the secret of an unclaimed inheritance, which 
 belongs to me? Very well, you have come too 
 late." 
 
 If the ceiling had fallen and crushed M. Fortunat 
 there and then he would, mentally at least, have not 
 been in a more pitiable condition. He stood silent, 
 motionless, utterly confounded, with his mouth wide 
 open, and such an expression of consternation in his 
 eyes that M. Wilkie burst into a hearty laugh. Still 
 the agent struggled against fate, and ultimately fal- 
 tered : " Let me explain permit me " 
 
 " Oh, it would be useless. I know my rights. I 
 have already arranged with a party to prosecute my 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 359 
 
 claims; the agreement will be signed on the day after 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "With whom?" 
 
 " Ah, excuse me ; that's my affair." 
 
 He had finished his chocolate, and he now poured out 
 a glass of ice-water, drank it, wiped his mouth, and 
 rose from the table. "You will excuse me, my dear 
 sir, if I leave you," he remarked. "As I said before, 
 I am going to Vincennes. I have staked a thousand 
 louis on f Pompier de Nanterre/ my horse, and my 
 friends have ventured ten times as much. Who knows 
 what may happen if I'm not there at the start ? " And 
 then, ignoring M. Fortunat as completely as if he had 
 not existed, M. Wilkie exclaimed : " Toby, you fool ! 
 where are you? Is my carriage below? Quick, bring 
 me my cane, my gloves, and my glasses. Take down 
 that basket of champagne. Run and put on your new 
 livery. Make haste, you little beast, I shall be too late." 
 
 M. Fortunat left the room. The frightful anger that 
 had followed his idiotic stupor sent his blood rushing 
 madly to his brain. A purple mist swam before his 
 eyes; there was a loud ringing in his ears, and with 
 each pulsation of his heart his head seemed to receive 
 a blow from a heavy hammer. His feelings were so 
 terrible that he was really frightened. " Am I about 
 to have an attack of apoplexy ? " he wondered. And, as 
 every surrounding object seemed to whirl around him, 
 the very floor itself apparently rising and falling un- 
 der his feet, he remained on the landing waiting for 
 this horrible vertigo to subside and doing his best to 
 reason with himself. It was fully five minutes before 
 he dared to risk the descent ; and even when he reached 
 the street, his features were so frightfully distorted that 
 Chupin trembled. 
 
360 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 He sprang out, assisted his employer into the cab, 
 and bade the driver return to the Place de la Bourse. It 
 was really pitiful to see the despair which had suc- 
 ceeded M. Fortunat's joyful confidence. "This is the 
 end of everything/' he groaned. " Fm robbed, de- 
 spoiled., ruined! And such a sure thing as it seemed. 
 These misfortunes happen to no one but me ! Some 
 one in advance of me ! Some one else will capture the 
 prize ! Oh, if I knew the wretch, if I only knew him ! " 
 
 " One moment," interrupted Chupin ; " I think I 
 know the man/' 
 
 M. Fortunat gave a violent start. " Impossible ! " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Excuse me, monsieur it must be a vile rascal 
 named Coralth." 
 
 It was a bellow rather than a cry of rage that es- 
 caped M. Fortunat's lips. To a man of his experience, 
 only a glimmer of light was required to reveal the 
 whole situation. " Ah ! I understand ! I see ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " Yes, you are right, Victor ; it's he Coralth 
 Valorsay's tool ! Coralth was the traitor who, in 
 obedience to Valorsay's orders, ruined the man who 
 loved Mademoiselle Marguerite. The deed was done 
 at Madame d'Argeles's house. So Coralth knows her, 
 and knows her secret. It's he who has outwitted me." 
 He reflected for a moment, and then, in a very different 
 tone, he said : " I shall never see a penny of the count's 
 millions^ and my forty thousand francs are gone for- 
 ever; but, as Heaven hears me, I will have some sat- 
 isfaction for my money. Ah! so Coralth and Val- 
 orsay combine to ruin me ! Very well ! since this is 
 the case, I shall espouse the cause of Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite and of the unfortunate man they've ruined. 
 Ah, my cherubs, you don't know Fortunat yet! Now 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 361 
 
 well see if the innocent don't get the best of you, and 
 if they don't unmask you. I shall do my best, since 
 you have forced me to do it and gratis too ! n 
 
 Chupin was radiant; his vengeance was assured. 
 " And I, monsieur," said he, " will give you some in- 
 formation about this Coralth. First of all, the scoun- 
 drel's married and his wife keeps a tobacco-shop some- 
 where near the Route d'Asnieres. I'll find her for you 
 --see if I don't" 
 
 The sudden stopping of the vehicle which had reached 
 the Place de la Bourse, cut his words short. M. For- 
 tunat ordered him to pay the driver, while he himself 
 rushed upstairs, eager to arrange his plan of campaign 
 -to use his own expression. In his absence a com- 
 missionaire had brought a letter for him which Madame 
 Dodelin now produced. He broke the seal, and read to 
 his intense surprise : " Monsieur I am the ward of the 
 late Count de Chalusse. I must speak to you. Will you 
 grant me an interview on Wednesday next, at a quar- 
 ter-past three o'clock ? Yours respectfully, 
 
 "MARGUERITE." 
 
 XX. 
 
 WHEN Mademoiselle Marguerite left the dead count's 
 bedside at ten o'clock at night to repair to Pascal 
 Ferailleur's house, she did not yet despair of the future. 
 Father, friend, rank, security, fortune she had lost all 
 these in a single moment but she could still see a 
 promise of happiness in the distance. 
 
 She suffered undoubtedly, and yet she experienced 
 a sort of bitter pleasure at the thought of uniting 
 her life to the man who was as unfortunate as her- 
 
362 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 self, who was slandered as she herself had been slan- 
 dered,, branded with the most cruel and unjust imputa- 
 tions, and had neither fortune nor friends. Others 
 might scorn them; but what did they care for the 
 world's disdain so long as they had the approval of 
 their consciences? Would not their mutual esteem 
 suffice since they loved each other? It seemed to 
 Marguerite that their very misfortunes would bind 
 them more closely to each other, and cement the bonds 
 of their love more strongly. And if it were absolutely 
 necessary for them to leave France ah, well! they 
 would leave it. To them Fatherland would always be 
 the spot where they lived together. 
 
 As the cab approached the Rue d'Ulm she pictured 
 Pascal's sorrow, and the joy and surprise he would feel 
 when she suddenly appeared before him, and faltered : 
 <e They accuse you here I am ! I know that you are 
 innocent, and I love you ! " 
 
 But the brutal voice of the concierge, informing her 
 of Pascal's secret departure, in the most insulting terms, 
 abruptly dispelled her dreams. If Pascal had failed 
 her, everything had failed her. If she had lost him, she 
 had lost her all. The world seemed empty struggling 
 would be folly happiness was only an empty name. 
 She indeed longed for death! 
 
 Madame Leon who had a set of formulas adapted to 
 all circumstances, undertook to console her. " Weep, 
 my dear young lady, weep ; it will do you good. Ah ! 
 this is certainly a horrible catastrophe. You are young, 
 fortunately, and Time is a great consoler. M. Ferail- 
 leur isn't the only man on earth. Others will love you. 
 There are others who love you already! 5 ' 
 
 " Silence ! " interrupted Marguerite, more revolted 
 than if she had heard a libertine whispering shameful 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 363 
 
 proposals in her ear. " Silence ! I forbid you to add 
 another word." To speak of another what sacrilege ! 
 Poor girl. She was one of those whose life is bound 
 up in one love alone, and if that fails them it is death ! 
 
 The thought that she was utterly alone added to the 
 horror of her situation. Whom could she depend upon ? 
 Not on Madame Leon. She distrusted her ; she had no 
 confidence whatever in her. Should she ask for the 
 advice of either of her suitors? The Marquis de Val- 
 orsay inspired her with unconquerable aversion,, and 
 she despised the so-called General de Fondege. So 
 her only friend, her only protector was a stranger, the 
 old justice of the peace who had taken her defence, by 
 crushing the slander of the servants, and whom she had 
 opened her heart to. But he would soon forget her, 
 she thought ; and the future, such as it was presented to 
 her imagination, seemed a terrible one. However, she 
 was too courageous to remain for long in despair she 
 struggled against her sorrow ; and the thought that she 
 might, perhaps, reach Pascal through M. Fortunat at 
 last occurred to her mind. This hope was her sole 
 chance of salvation. She clung to it as a shipwrecked 
 mariner clings to the plank which is his only hope of 
 life. 
 
 When she returned to the mansion her mind was 
 made up, and she had regained her usual composure. 
 For ten minutes or so she had been praying by the 
 count's bedside, when M. Bourigeau, the concierge, ap- 
 peared and handed her a letter which had just been 
 brought to the house. It was addressed to " Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite de Durtal de Chalusse, at the 
 Hotel de Chalusse, Rue de Courcelles." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite blushed. Who was it that 
 addressed her by this name which she no longer had 
 
364 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 the right to bear? She studied the handwriting for a 
 moment, but she did not remember ever having seen it 
 before. At last, however, she opened the letter and 
 read : " My dear, dear child/' " Dear child ! indeed. 
 What could this mean? Was there any one in the 
 world sufficiently interested in her welfare, or loving 
 her enough, to address her in this style? She quickly 
 turned the sheet to see the signature; and when her 
 eyes fell on it she turned pale, " Ah ! " she exclaimed, 
 involuntarily, "ah! ah!" 
 
 The letter was signed : " Ath6nais de Fondege." It 
 had been written by the General's wife. She resumed 
 her perusal of it, and this is what she read : <c I this 
 instant hear of the cruel loss you have sustained, and 
 also learn that, for want of testamentary provisions, 
 the poor Count de Chalusse leaves you, his idolized 
 daughter, almost without resources. I will not attempt 
 to offer you consolation, God alone can assuage certain 
 sorrows. I should come and weep with you if I were 
 not kept in bed by illness. But to-morrow, whatever 
 happens, I shall be with you before breakfast. It is at 
 such a time as this, my poor dear afflicted child, that 
 one can tell one's true friends; and we are yours as I 
 hope to prove. The General feels that he should be 
 insulting and betraying the memory of a man who was 
 his dearest friend for thirty years, if he did not take 
 the count's place, if he did not become your second 
 father. He has offered you our modest home ; you have 
 refused. Why? With the authority conferred upon 
 me by my age and my position as the mother of a 
 family, I tell you that you ought to accept. What 
 other course can you possibly think of? Where would 
 you go, my poor, dear child? But we will discuss this 
 matter to-morrow. I shall find a way to persuade you 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 365 
 
 to love us, and to allow yourself to be loved. In my 
 heart you will fill the place of the beloved and lamented 
 daughter I have lost my beautiful and gentle Bathilde. 
 Once more I say farewell until to-morrow trusting 
 that you will accept the sympathy and affection of your 
 best friend, 
 
 u ATHNAIS DE FONDEGE/' 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was thunderstruck, for the 
 writer of this epistle was a lady whom she had only met 
 five or six times, who had never visited her,, and with 
 whom she had scarcely exchanged twenty words. 
 Moreover., she well remembered certain glances with 
 which Madame de Fondege had, on one occasion, tried 
 to crush her glances so full of cruel contempt that 
 they had drawn bitter tears of sorrow, shame, and 
 anger, from the poor girl. The count himself had said 
 to her at the time : " Don't be so childish, Marguerite, 
 as to trouble yourself about this foolish and impudent 
 woman/' 
 
 And now this same woman sent her a letter over- 
 flowing with sympathy, and claimed her affection and 
 confidence in the tone of an old and tried friend. Was 
 such a change natural? Not being what is called a 
 credulous person, Mademoiselle Marguerite was unable 
 to believe it. She divined that Madame de Fondege must 
 have had some hidden motive in writing such a letter 
 but what motive was it ? Alas ! she divined this also 
 only too well. The General, suspecting that she had 
 stolen the missing money, had imparted his suspicions 
 to his wife; and she, being as avaricious and as un- 
 scrupulous as himself, was doing her best to secure the 
 booty for her son. Such a calculation is a common one 
 nowadays. Steal yourself? Fie, never! You would 
 
366 THE COUNTS MILLIONS 
 
 not dare. Besides, you are honest. But it is quite a 
 different thing to profit by other people's rascality. 
 Besides, there are no risks to be encountered. 
 
 On perusing the letter a second time, it seemed to 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite that she could hear the Gen- 
 eral and his wife discussing the means of obtaining a 
 share of the two millions. She could hear Madame de 
 Fondege saying to her husband : " You are a block- 
 head ! You frightened the girl by your precipitancy 
 and roughness. But fortunately, I'm here. Let me 
 manage the affair; and I'll prove that women are far 
 more clever than men." And, thereupon, she had 
 seized her pen, and commenced this letter. In Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite's opinion, the epistle betrayed the 
 joint efforts of the pair. She could have sworn that 
 the husband had dictated the sentence: "The General 
 feels that he should be insulting and betraying the 
 memory of a man who was his dearest friend for thirty 
 years, if he did not become your second father." On 
 the other hand, the phrase, " I shall find a way to 
 persuade you to love us, and to allow yourself to be 
 loved," was unmistakably the wife's work. The writer's 
 insincerity was fully revealed by one passage of .the 
 letter. " You will fill the place of the beloved daughter 
 I have lost," wrote Madame de Fondege. It is true 
 that she had once had a daughter; but the child had 
 died of croup when only six months old, and more than 
 twenty-five years previously. 
 
 It was strange, moreover, that this letter had not 
 been sent until ten o'clock in the evening; but, on re- 
 flection, Mademoiselle Marguerite was able to explain 
 this circumstance satisfactorily to herself. Before tak- 
 ing any decided step, M. and Madame de Fondege had 
 wished to consult their son ; and they had been unable 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 367 
 
 to see him until late in the evening. However, as soon 
 as the brilliant hussar had approved the noble scheme 
 concocted by his parents, a servant had been dispatched 
 with the letter. All these surmises were surely very 
 plausible; but it was difficult to reconcile them with 
 the opinion advanced by the magistrate that M. de 
 Fondege must know what had become of the missing 
 millions. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite did not think of this, how- 
 ever. She was losing her presence of mind at thought 
 of the odious suspicions which rested on her, sus- 
 picions which she had seemed to read in the eyes of 
 all who approached her, from Dr. Jodon to the Marquis 
 de Valorsay. It is true that the magistrate had taken 
 her defence; he had silenced the servants, but would 
 that suffice? Would she not remain branded by an 
 abominable accusation ? And even the consciousness of 
 her innocence did not reassure her, for Pascal's case 
 warned her that innocence is not a sufficient safeguard 
 against slander. 
 
 Could she hope to escape when he had succumbed? 
 She could tell by the agony that was torturing her own 
 heart, how much he must have suffered. Where was 
 he now? Beyond the frontiers of France? They had 
 told her so, but she did not, could not believe it. Know- 
 ing him as she knew him, it seemed to her impossible 
 that he had accepted his fate so quickly and without 
 a struggle. A secret presentiment told her that his 
 absence was only feigned, that he was only biding his 
 time, and that M. Fortunat would not have far to go 
 in search of him. It was in M. de Chalusse's bedroom 
 that she thus reflected, but a few steps from the bed 
 on which reposed all that was mortal of the man whose 
 weakness had made her life one long martyrdom, whose 
 
368 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 want of foresight had ruined her future, but whom she 
 had not the heart to censure. She was standing in 
 front of the window with her burning forehead resting 
 against the glass. At that very moment Pascal was 
 waiting, seated on the curbstone opposite the mansion. 
 At that very moment he was watching the shadow 
 on the window-curtain,, wondering if it were not Mar- 
 guerite's. If the night had been clear she might have 
 discerned the motionless watcher in the street below, 
 and divined that it was Pascal. But how could she 
 suspect his presence? How could she suspect that he 
 had hastened to the Rue de Courcelles as she had 
 hastened to the Rue d'Ulm? 
 
 It was almost midnight when a slight noise, a sound 
 of stealthy footsteps, made her turn. Madame Leon 
 was leaving the room, and a moment later Marguerite 
 heard the house-door leading into the garden open and 
 shut again. There was nothing extraordinary about 
 such an occurrence, and yet a strange misgiving as- 
 sailed her. Why, she could not explain; but many 
 trivial circumstances, suddenly invested with a new and 
 alarming significance, recurred to her mind. She re- 
 membered that Madame Leon had been restless . and 
 nervous all the evening. The housekeeper, who was 
 usually so inactive, who lounged in her arm-chair for 
 hours together, had been moving uneasily about, going 
 up and down stairs at least a dozen times, and con- 
 tinually glancing at her watch or the clock. Twice, 
 moreover., had the concierge come to tell her that some 
 one wished to see her. " Where can she be going now, 
 at midnight ? " thought Mademoiselle Marguerite ; <e she 
 who is usually so timid ? " 
 
 At first, the girl resisted her desire to solve the ques- 
 tion; her suspicions seemed absurd to her, and, be- 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 369 
 
 /Ides, it was distasteful to her to play the spy. Still, 
 she listened, waiting to hear Madame Leon, re-enter 
 the house. But more than a quarter of an hour elapsed, 
 and yet the door did not open or close again. Either 
 Madame Leon had not left the house at all, or else 
 she was still outside. " This is very strange ! " thought 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite. "Was I mistaken? I must 
 convince myself/' And, obeying a mysterious influ- 
 ence, stronger than her own will, she left the room and 
 went down the stairs. She had reached the hall, when 
 the garden door suddenly opened, and Madame Leon 
 came in. The lights in the hall were burning brightly, 
 so that it was easy to observe the housekeeper's man- 
 ner and countenance. She was panting for breath, like 
 a person who had been running. She was very pale, 
 and her dress was disordered. Her cap-strings 
 were untied, and her cap had slipped from her 
 head and was hanging over her shoulders. "What 
 is the matter with you ? " asked Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite in astonishment. " Where have you 
 been?" 
 
 On seeing the girl Madame Leon recoiled. Should 
 she fly off or remain? She hesitated for an instant; 
 and it was easy to read her hesitation in her eyes. She 
 decided to remain ; but it was with a constrained smile 
 and in an unnatural voice that she replied: "Why do 
 you speak to me like that, my dear young lady? One 
 might suppose you were angry with me. You must 
 know very well that I've been in the garden ! " 
 
 "At this hour of the night?" 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! yes and not for pleasure, I assure you 
 
 not by any means I I " She was evidently 
 
 seeking for some excuse; and, for a moment or two, 
 she stammered forth one incoherent sentence after an- 
 
370 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 other,, trying to gain time and imploring Heaven to 
 grant her an inspiration. 
 
 " Well ? " insisted Mademoiselle Marguerite, impa- 
 tiently. " Why did you go out ? " 
 
 " Ah ! I I thought I heard Mirza barking in the 
 garden. I thought she had been forgotten in all the 
 confusion, and that the poor creature had been shut 
 out, so I summoned all my courage, and '' 
 
 Mirza was an old spaniel that M. de Chalusse had 
 been very fond of, and the animal's caprices were re- 
 spected by all the inmates of the house. 
 
 " That's very strange," remarked Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite, " for when you rose to leave the room, half an 
 hour ago, Mirza was sleeping at your feet." 
 
 What really is it possible?" 
 
 " It's certain," 
 
 But the worthy woman had already recovered her 
 self-possession and her accustomed loquacity at the 
 same time. "Ah! my dear young lady/' she said, 
 bravely, " I'm in such sorrow that I'm losing my senses 
 completely. Still, it was only from the kindest of mo- 
 tives that I ventured into the garden, and I had scarcely 
 entered it before I saw something white run away 
 from me I felt sure it was Mirza and so I ran after 
 it. But I could find nothing. I called ' Mirza ! Mirza ! ' 
 and still nothing. I searched under all the trees, and 
 yet I could not find her. It was as dark as pitch, and 
 suddenly a terrible fear seized hold of me such a terri- 
 ble fright that I really believe I called for help, and I 
 ran back to the house half crazed." 
 
 Any one hearing her would have sworn that she was 
 telling the truth. But, unfortunately, her earlier man- 
 ner had proved her guilt. 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite was not deceived when she 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 371 
 
 said to herself : " I am on the track of some abom- 
 inable act." However,, she had sufficient self-control 
 to conceal her suspicions ; and she pretended to be per- 
 fectly satisfied with the explanation which the house- 
 keeper had concocted. "Ah, my dear Leon, you are 
 altogether too timid; it's absurd/' she said, kindly. 
 
 The housekeeper hung her head. " I know that I 
 make myself ridiculous," she said, humbly. " But how 
 can I help it? When a person's frightened, she can't 
 reason. And that white object which I saw, as plainly 
 as I see you, what could it have been ? " And, con- 
 vinced that her fable was believed, she grew bolder, 
 and ventured to add : " Oh, my dear young lady, I 
 shall tremble all night if the garden isn't searched. 
 Pray send the servants out to look. There are so many 
 thieves and rascals in Paris ! " 
 
 Under any other circumstances Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite would have refused to listen to this ridiculous 
 request; but, determined to repay the hypocrite in her 
 own coin, she replied : " Very well ; it shall be done." 
 And calling M. Casimir and Bourigeau, the concierge, 
 she ordered them to take a lantern and explore the gar- 
 den carefully. 
 
 They obeyed, though with rather bad grace, not being 
 particularly courageous, either of them, and, of course, 
 they found nothing. 
 
 " No matter," said Madame Leon, " I feel safe now." 
 And she did indeed feel more tranquil in mind. " I 
 had a lucky escape ! " she said to herself. " What 
 would have become of me, if Mademoiselle Marguerite 
 had discovered the truth ? " 
 
 But the housekeeper congratulated herself on her 
 victory too soon. Mademoiselle Marguerite not only 
 suspected her of treason, but she was endeavoring to 
 
372 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 procure proofs of it. She felt certain that the plausible 
 housekeeper had deceived her, and cruelly wronged her 
 as well. But what she could not understand was, how 
 Madame Leon had been able to do so. She had spent 
 a long time in fruitless conjectures, when suddenly she 
 remembered the little garden gate. "The deceitful 
 creature must have used that gate," she thought. 
 
 It was easy for her to verify her suspicion. The little 
 gate had not been exactly condemned, but many months 
 had elapsed since it had been used; so it would be a 
 very simple matter to ascertain whether it had been 
 recently opened or not. " And I will know for certain 
 before an hour has passed," said Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite to herself. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, she feigned sleep, 
 keeping a sharp watch over Madame Leon from be- 
 tween her half-closed eyelids. The housekeeper, after 
 twisting uneasily in her arm-chair, at last became quiet 
 again; and it was soon evident that she was sleeping 
 soundly. Thereupon Mademoiselle Marguerite rose to 
 her feet and stole noiselessly from the room downstairs 
 into the garden. She had provided herself with a can- 
 dle and some matches, and as soon as she struck a light, 
 she saw that her surmises were correct. The little gate 
 had just been opened and closed again. The cobwebs 
 round about the bolts were torn and broken; the rust 
 which had filled the keyhole had been removed, and on 
 the dust covering the lock the impress of a hand could 
 be detected. " And I have confided my most precious 
 secrets to this wicked woman ! " thought Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite. " Fool that I was ! " 
 
 Already thoroughly convinced, she extinguished her 
 candle. Still, having discovered so much, she wished 
 to pursue her investigation to the end, and so she 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 373 
 
 opened the little gate. The ground outside had been 
 soaked by the recent rains, and had not yet dried, and 
 by the light of the neighboring street-lamp, she plainly 
 distinguished a number of well-defined footprints on 
 the muddy soil. An experienced observer would have 
 realized by the disposition of these footprints that some- 
 thing like a struggle had taken place here; but Made- 
 moiselle Marguerite was not sufficiently expert for that. 
 She only understood what a child would have under- 
 stood that two people had been standing here for 
 some time. Poor girl ! She had not seen Pascal when 
 he was sitting in front of the mansion some hours 
 before ! And now no presentiment warned her that 
 these footprints were his. In her opinion, the man 
 who had been talking with Madame Leon was either 
 M. de Fondege, or the Marquis de Valorsay that is 
 to say, Madame Leon was hired to watch her and to 
 render an account of all she said and did. 
 
 Her first impulse was to denounce and dismiss this 
 miserable hypocrite; but as she was returning to the 
 house, an idea which an old diplomatist need not have 
 been ashamed of entered her mind. She said to herself 
 that as Madame Leon was unmasked she was no longer 
 to be feared; so why should she be sent away? A 
 known spy can undoubtedly be made a most valuable 
 auxiliary. " Why shouldn't I make use of this wicked 
 woman ? " thought Mademoiselle Marguerite. <e I can 
 conceal from her what I don't wish her to know, and 
 with a little skill I can make her carry to her employers 
 such information as will serve my plans. By watching 
 her, I shall soon discover my enemy; and who knows 
 if, by this means^ I may not succeed in finding an ex- 
 planation of the fatality that pursues me ? " 
 
 When Mademoiselle Marguerite returned to her 
 
374 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 place beside the count's bedside, she had calmly and ir- 
 revocably made up her mind. She would not only 
 retain Madame Leon in her service, but she would dis- 
 play even greater confidence in her than before. Such 
 a course was most repugnant to Marguerite's loyal, 
 truthful nature; but reason whispered to her that in 
 fighting with villains, it is often necessary to use their 
 weapons; and she had her honor, her life, and her 
 future to defend. A strange and but imperfectly de- 
 fined suspicion had entered her mind. To-night, for 
 the first time, she thought she could discover a mys- 
 terious connection between Pascal's misfortunes and 
 her ow r n. Was it mere chance which had struck them 
 at the same time, and in much the same manner ? Who 
 would have profited by the abominable crime which 
 had dishonored her lover,, had it not been for M. de 
 Chalusse's death and her own firmness ? Evidently the 
 Marquis de Valorsay, for whom Pascal's flight had left 
 the field clear. 
 
 All these thoughts were well calculated to drive 
 away sleep; but the poor girl was only twenty, and it 
 was the second night she had watched by the count's 
 bedside. Thus at last fatigue overcame her, and she 
 fell asleep. 
 
 In the morning, about seven o'clock, Madame Leon 
 was obliged to shake her to rouse her from the kind 
 of lethargy .into which she had fallen. " Mademoi- 
 selle," said the housekeeper, in her honeyed voice; 
 " dear mademoiselle, wake up at once ! " 
 
 " What is the matter? What is it ? " 
 
 " Ah ! how can I explain ? My dear young lady, the 
 undertaker's men have come to make arrangements for 
 the ceremony." 
 
 Those in charge of the last rites had indeed arrived, 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 375 
 
 and their heavy tread could be heard in the hall and 
 in the courtyard. M. Casimir, who was bursting with 
 self-sufficiency, hurried here, there, and everywhere, in- 
 dicating,, with an imperious gesture, where he wished 
 the black hangings, embroidered with silver and em- 
 blazoned with the De Chalusse arms, to be suspended. 
 As the magistrate had given him carte-blanche, he 
 deemed it proper, as he remarked to Concierge Bouri- 
 geau, to have everything done in grand style. But he 
 took good care not to reveal the fact that he had ex- 
 acted a very handsome commission from all the people 
 he employed. The hundred francs derived from Chupin 
 had only whetted his appetite for more. At all events, 
 he had certainly spared no pains in view of having 
 everything as magnificent as possible; and it was not 
 until he considered the display thoroughly satisfactory 
 that he went to warn Mademoiselle Marguerite. " I 
 come to beg mademoiselle to retire to her own room/' 
 he said. 
 
 "Retirewhy?" 
 
 He did not reply by words, but pointed to the bed on 
 which the body was lying, and the poor girl realized 
 that the moment of eternal separation had come. She 
 rose, and dragged herself to the bedside. Death had 
 now effaced all traces of the count's last agony. His 
 face wore its accustomed expression again, and it 
 might have been fancied that he was asleep. For a 
 long time Mademoiselle Marguerite stood looking at 
 him, as if to engrave the features she would never be- 
 hold again upon her memory. " Mademoiselle," in- 
 sisted M. Casimir ; "mademoiselle, do not remain here." 
 
 She heard him, and summoning all her strength, she 
 leaned over the bed, kissed M. de Chalusse, and went 
 away. But she was too late, for in passing through the 
 
376 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 hall she encountered the undertakers, who carried on 
 their shoulders a long metallic case enclosed in two 
 oaken ones. And she had scarcely reached her own 
 room before a smell of resin told her that the men 
 were closing the coffin which contained all that was 
 mortal of M. de Chalusse, her father. 
 
 So, none of those terrible details, which so increase 
 one's grief, were spared her. But she had already suf- 
 fered so much that she had reached a state of gloomy 
 apathy, almost insensibility; and the exercise of her 
 faculties was virtually suspended. Whiter than marble, 
 she fell, rather than seated herself, on a chair, scarcely 
 perceiving Madame Leon, who had followed her. 
 
 The worthy housekeeper was greatly excited, and 
 not without cause. As there were no relations, it had 
 been decided that M. de Fondege, the count's oldest 
 friend, should do the honors of the mansion to the per- 
 sons invited to attend the funeral; and he had sworn 
 that he would be under arms at daybreak, and that 
 they might positively depend upon him. But the hour 
 fixed for the ceremony was approaching, several per- 
 sons had already arrived, and yet M. de Fondege had 
 not put in an appearance. " It is incomprehensible," 
 exclaimed Madame Leon. "The General is usually 
 punctuality personified. He must have met with some 
 accident" And in her anxiety she stationed herself 
 at the window, whence she could command a view of 
 the courtyard, carefully scrutinizing every fresh ar- 
 rival. 
 
 At last, about half-past nine o'clock, she suddenly 
 exclaimed : " Here he is ! Do you hear, mademoiselle, 
 here's the General !" 
 
 A moment later, indeed, there was a gentle rap at 
 the door, and M. de Fondege entered. " Ah, I'm late ! " 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 37Z 
 
 he exclaimed; "but, dash it all! it's not my fault!"" 
 And, struck by Mademoiselle Marguerite's immobility,, 
 he advanced and took her hand. " And you, my dear 
 little one, what is the matter with you?" he asked, 
 " Have you been ill ? You are frightfully pale." 
 
 She succeeded in shaking off the torpor which was 
 stealing over her, and replied in a faint voice : " I am- 
 not ill, monsieur." 
 
 " So much the better, my dear child, so much the 
 better. It is our little heart that is suffering, is it 
 not? Yes yes I understand. But your old friends 
 will console you. You received my wife's letter, did 
 you not ? Ah, well ! what she told you, she will do- 
 she will do it. And to prove it, in spite of her illness^ 
 ske followed me in fact, she is here ! " 
 
 XXL 
 
 MADEMOISELLE MARGUERITE sprang to her feet, 
 quivering with indignation. Her eyes sparkled and her 
 lips trembled as she threw back her head with a superb 
 gesture of scorn, which loosened her beautiful dark 
 hair, and caused it to fall in rippling masses over her 
 shoulders. " Ah ! Madame de Fondege is here ! " she 
 repeated, in a tone of crushing contempt " Madame de 
 Fondege, your wife, here ! " 
 
 It seemed to her an impossibility to receive the hypo- 
 crite who had written the letter of the previous even- 
 ing the accomplice of the scoundrels who took ad- 
 vantage of her wretchedness and isolation. Her heart 
 revolted at the thought of meeting this woman, who had 
 neither conscience nor shame, who could stoop so low 
 as to intrigue for the millions which she fancied had 
 
378 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 been 'stolen. Mademoiselle Marguerite was about to 
 forbid her to enter, or to retire herself, when the 
 thought of her determination to act stealthily restrained 
 her. -She instantly realized her imprudence, and, mas- 
 tering herself with a great effort, she murmured: 
 " Madame de Fondege is too kind ! How can I ever 
 express my gratitude ?" 
 
 Madame de Fondege must have heard this, for at the 
 same 'moment she entered the room. She was short, 
 and very stout a faded blonde, with her complexion 
 spoilt by a multitude of freckles. She had very large 
 hands, broad,, thick feet, and a shrill voice; and the 
 vulgarity of her appearance was all the more noticeable 
 on account of her pretensions to elegance. For al- 
 though her father had been a wood-merchant, she 
 boasted of her exalted birth, and endeavored to impress 
 people with the magnificence of her style of living, 
 though her fortune was problematical, and her house- 
 hold conducted in the most frugal style. Her attire 
 suggested a continual conflict between elegance and 
 economy between real poverty and feigned prodigal- 
 ity. She wore a corsage and overskirt of black satin; 
 but the upper part of the underskirt, which was not 
 visible, was made of lute-string costing thirty sous a 
 yard, and her laces were Chantilly only in appearance. 
 Still, her love of finery had never carried her so far as 
 shop-lifting, or induced her to part with her honor 
 for gewgaws irregularities which are so common 
 nowadays, even among wives and mothers of families, 
 that people are no longer astonished to hear of them. 
 
 No Madame de Fondege was a faithful wife, in the 
 strict and legal sense of the word. But how she re- 
 venged herself ! She was " virtuous ; " but so dan- 
 gerously virtuous that one might have supposed she 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 379 
 
 was so against her will, and that she bitterly regretted 
 it. She ruled her husband with a rod of iron. And 
 he who was so terrible in appearance, he who twirled 
 his ferocious mustaches in such a threatening manner, 
 he who swore horribly enough to make an old hussar 
 blush, became more submissive than a child, and more 
 timid than a lamb when he was beside his wife. He 
 trembled when she turned her pale blue eyes upon him 
 in a certain fashion. And woe to him if he ventured 
 to rebel. She suppressed his pocket-money, and during 
 these penitential seasons he was reduced to the neces- 
 sity of asking his friends to lend him twenty-franc 
 pieces, which he generally forgot to return. 
 
 Madame de Fondege was. as a rule, most imperious, 
 envious, and spiteful in disposition : but on coming to 
 the Hotel de Chalusse she had provided herself with 
 any amount of sweetness and sensibility, and when she 
 entered the room, she held her handkerchief to her lips 
 as if to stifle her sobs. The General led her toward 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite, and, in a semi-solemn, semi- 
 sentimental tone, he exclaimed : " Dear Athenais, this 
 is the daughter of my best and oldest friend. I know 
 your heart I know that she will find in you a second 
 mother." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite stood speechless and rigid. 
 Persuaded that Madame de Fondege was about to 
 throw her arms round her neck and kiss her, she was 
 imposing the most terrible constraint upon herself, in 
 order to conceal her horror and aversion. But she was 
 unnecessarily alarmed. The hypocrisy of the General's 
 wife was superior to that of Madame Leon. Madame 
 de Fondege contented herself with pressing Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite's hands and faltering : " What a mis- 
 fortune ! So young so sudden ! It is frightful ! ?> 
 
380 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 And,, as she received no reply, she added, with an air 
 of sorrowful dignity : u I dare not ask your full confi- 
 dence, my dear unfortunate child. Confidence can be 
 born only of long acquaintance and mutual esteem. 
 But you will learn to know me. You will give me that 
 sweet name of mother when I shall have deserved it." 
 
 Standing at a little distance off, the General listened 
 with the air of a man who has a profound respect for 
 his wife's ability. " Now the ice is broken," he 
 thought., " it will be strange if Atbenais doesn't do 
 whatever she pleases with that little savage." 
 
 His hopes were so brightly reflected upon his counte- 
 nance, that Madame Leon, who was furtively watching 
 him, became alarmed. " Ah ! what do these people 
 want?" she said to herself: "and what do all these 
 endearments mean? Upon my word, I must warn my 
 patron at once/'' And, fancying that no one noticed 
 her, she slipped quietly and noiselessly from the room. 
 
 But Mademoiselle Marguerite was on the watch. De- 
 termined to fathom the plotting that was going on 
 around her, and frustrate it, she realized that every- 
 thing depended upon her watchfulness and her ability 
 to profit even by the most futile incidents. She had 
 noticed the General's triumphant smile, and the look of 
 anxiety that had suddenly clouded Madame Leon's face. 
 so, without troubling herself about " the proprieties/' 
 she asked M. and Madame de Fondege to excuse her 
 for a second, and darted after the housekeeper. Ah ! 
 she did not need to go far. Leaning over the banisters, 
 she saw Madame Leon and the Marquis de Valorsay in 
 earnest conversation in the hall below; the marquis as 
 phlegmatic and as haughty as usual, but the house- 
 keeper fairly excited. Marguerite at once understood 
 that as Madame Leon knew that the marquis was 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 381 
 
 among the funeral guests, she had gone to warn him of 
 Madame de Fondege'"s presence. This trivial circum- 
 stance proved that M. de Fondege's interests were op- 
 posed to those of M. de Valorsay; that they must, 
 therefore, hate each other, and that,, with a little 
 patience and skill, she might utilize them, one against 
 the other. It also proved that Madame Leon was the 
 Marquis de Valorsay's paid spy, and that he must 
 therefore have long been aware of Pascal's existence. 
 But she lacked the time to follow out this train of 
 thought. Her absence might awaken the Fondeges' 
 suspicions; and her success depended on letting them 
 suppose that she was their dupe. She therefore re- 
 turned to them as soon as possible, excusing herself for 
 ker abrupt departure as well a^ she could ; but she was 
 not accustomed to deceive, and her embarrassment 
 might have betrayed her had it not been for the Gen- 
 eral, who fortunately interrupted her by saying : " I, 
 too, must excuse myself, my dear x child; but Madame 
 de Fondege will remain with you. I must fulfil a 
 sacred duty. They are waiting for me downstairs, and 
 they are no doubt becoming impatient. It is the first 
 time in my life that I was ever behind time." 
 
 The General was right in losing no more time. At 
 least a hundred and fifty guests had assembled in the 
 reception-rooms on the ground floor, and they were 
 beginning to think it very strange that they should be 
 kept waiting in this style. And yet curiosity somewhat 
 tempered their impatience. Some of the strange cir- 
 cumstances attending the count's death had been noised 
 abroad; and some well-informed persons declared that 
 a fabulous sum of money had been stolen by a young 
 girl. It is true, they did not think this embezzlement a 
 positive crime. It certainly proved that the young 
 
382 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 lady in question possessed a strong and determined 
 character ; and many of the proudest among the guests 
 would gladly have taken the place of De Valorsay, who, 
 it was rumored,, was about to marry the pretty thief 
 and her millions. 
 
 The person who was most disturbed by the delay 
 was the master of the ceremonies. Arrayed in his best 
 uniform,, his thin legs encased in black silk stockings, 
 his mantle thrown gracefully over his shoulders, and 
 his cocked hat under his arm, he was looking anxiously 
 about for some one in the assembled crowd to whom 
 he could give the signal for departure. He was already 
 talking of starting off when M. de Fondege appeared. 
 The friends of M. de Chalusse who were to hold the 
 cords of the pall came forward. There was a moment's 
 confusion, then the hearse started, and the whole 
 cortege filed out of the courtyard. 
 
 Deep silence followed, so deep that the noise made in 
 closing the heavy gates came upon one with startling 
 effect. " Ah ! " moaned Madame de Fondege, " it is 
 over." 
 
 Marguerite's only reply was a despairing gesture. 
 It would have been impossible for her to articulate a 
 syllable her tears were choking her. What would she 
 not have given to be alone at this moment -to have 
 been able to abandon herself without constraint to heV 
 emotions ! Alas ! prudence condemned her to play a 
 part even now. The thought of her future and her 
 honor lent her strength to submit to the deceitful con- 
 solations of a woman whom she knew to be a danger- 
 ous enemy. And the General's wife was by no means 
 sparing of her consolatory phrases ; in fact, it was ( only 
 after a long homily on the uncertainty of life below 
 that she ventured to approach the subject of her letter 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 383 
 
 of -the previous evening. "For it is necessary to face 
 the inevitable," she pursued. "The troublesome reali- 
 ties of life have no respect for our grief. So it is with 
 you, my dear child ; you would find a bitter pleasure in 
 giving vent to your sorrow, but you are compelled to 
 think of your future. As M. de Chalusse has no heirs, 
 this house will be closed you can remain here no 
 longer." 
 
 " I know it, madame." 
 
 " Where will you go ? " 
 
 "Alas! I don't know." 
 
 Madame de Fondege raised her handkerchief to her 
 eyes as if to wipe a furtive tear away, and then, almost 
 roughly, she exclaimed : " I must tell you the truth, my 
 child. Listen to me. I see only two courses for you 
 to adopt. Either to ask the protection of some respect- 
 able family, or to enter a convent. This is your only 
 hope of safety." 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite bowed her head, without 
 replying. To learn the plans which the General's wife 
 had formed she must let her disclose them. However, 
 the girl's silence seemed to make Madame de Fondege 
 uncomfortable, and at last she resumed : " Is it possible 
 that you think of braving the perils of life alone? I 
 cannot believe it! It would be madness. Young, 
 beautiful, and attractive as you are, it is impossible for 
 you to live unprotected. Even if you had sufficient 
 strength of character to lead a pure and honest life, 
 the world would none the less refuse you its esteem. 
 Mere prejudice, you say? You are quite right; but it 
 is nevertheless true that a young girl who braves public 
 opinion is lost." 
 
 It was easy to see by Madame de Fondege's earnest- 
 ness that she feared Mademoiselle Marguerite would 
 
384 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 avail herself of this opportunity of recovering her lib- 
 erty. "What shall I do, then?" asked the girl. 
 
 " There is the convent/' 
 
 " But I love life/' 
 
 " Then ask the protection of some respectable family."' 
 
 " The idea of being in any one's charge is disagree- 
 able to me." 
 
 Strange to say, Madame d Fondege did not protest. 
 did not speak of her own house. She was too proud 
 for that. Having once offered hospitality, she thought 
 it would arouse suspicion if she insisted. So she con- 
 tented herself with enumerating the arguments for and 
 against the two propositions, remarking from time to 
 time : " Come, you must decide ! Don't wait until the 
 last moment ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite had already decided : but 
 before announcing her decision, she wished to confer 
 with the only friend she Irad in the world the old jus- 
 tice of the peace. On the previous evening he had said 
 to her: "Farewell until to-morrow," and knowing that 
 his work in the house had not been concluded, she was 
 extremely surprised that he had not yet put in an ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 While conversing with Madame de Fondege she had 
 dexterously avoided compromising herself in any way, 
 when suddenly a servant appeared and announced the 
 magistrate's arrival. He entered the room, with his 
 usual benevolent smile upon his lips, but his searching 
 eyes were never once taken off Madame de Fondege's 
 face. He bowed, made a few polite remarks, and then 
 addressing Marguerite, he said : " I must speak with 
 you, mademoiselle, at once. You may tell madame, 
 however, that you will certainly return in less than a 
 quarter of an hour." 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 385 
 
 Marguerite followed him. and when they were alone 
 in the count's study and the doors had been carefully 
 closed., the magistrate exclaimed : " I have been think- 
 ing a great deal of you, my child, a great deal ; and it 
 seems to me that I can explain certain things which 
 worried you yesterday. But first of all, what has hap- 
 pened since I left you ? " 
 
 Briefly, but with remarkable precision, Marguerite 
 recounted the various incidents which had occurred 
 her useless journey to the Rue d'Ulm, Madame Leon's 
 strange midnight ramble and conversation with the 
 Marquis de Valorsay, Madame de Fondege's letter, and 
 lastly, her visit and all that she had said. 
 
 The magistrate listened with his eyes fixed on his 
 ring. "This is very serious, very serious," he said at 
 last. " Perhaps you are right. Perhaps M. Ferailleur 
 is innocent. And yet, why should he abscond? why 
 should he leave the country?'" 
 
 " Ah ! monsieur, Pascal's flight is only feigned. He 
 is in Paris concealed somewhere I'm sure of it; and 
 I know a man who will find him for me. Only one 
 thing puzzles me his silence. To disappear without 
 a word, without giving me any sign of life 
 
 The magistrate interrupted her by a gesture. " I 
 see nothing surprising in that since your companion is 
 the Marquis de Valorsay' s spy. How do you know that 
 she has not intercepted or destroyed some letter from 
 M. Pascal?" 
 
 Mademoiselle Marguerite turned pale. " Great 
 Heavens ! how blind I have been ! " she exclaimed. " I 
 did not think of that. Oh, the wretch! if one could 
 only question her and make her confess her 
 crime. It is horrible to think that if I wish to 
 arrive at the truth. 1 must remain with her 
 
386 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 and treat her in the future just as I have treated her 
 till now." 
 
 But the magistrate was not the man to wander from 
 the subject he was investigating. " Let us return to 
 Madame de Fondege," said he. " She is extremely tm- 
 willing to see you go out into the world alone. Why? 
 through affection ? No. Why, then ? This is what we 
 must ascertain. Secondly, she seems indifferent as to 
 whether you accept her hospitality or enter a convent/' 
 " She seems to prefer that I should enter a convent." 
 "Very well. What conclusion can we draw from 
 that? Simply,, that the Fondege family don't particu- 
 larly care about keeping you with them, or marrying 
 you to their son. If they don't desire this, it is beeanse 
 they are perfectly sure that the missing money was not 
 taken by you. Now, let me ask, how can they be so 
 certain? Simply because they know where the missing 
 millions are and if they know 
 
 "Ah! monsieur, it is because they've stolen them!" 
 The magistrate was silent. He had turned the bezel 
 of his ring inside, a sure sign of stormy weather, so his 
 clerk would have said and though he had his features 
 under excellent control he could not entirely conceal 
 some signs of a severe mental conflict he was under- 
 going. " Well, yes, my child," he said, at last. " Yes, 
 it is my conviction that the Fondeges possess the mil- 
 lions you saw in the count's escritoire, and which we 
 have been unable to find. How they obtained posses- 
 sion of the money I can't conceive but they have it, 
 or else logic is no longer logic." He paused again lor 
 a moment, and then he resumed, more slowly : ** In 
 acquainting you with my opinion on this subject, I have 
 given you, a young girl, almost a child, a prooi f 
 esteem and confidence which, it seems to me, few men 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 387 
 
 are worthy of ; for I may be deceived, and a magistrate 
 ought not to accuse a person unless he is absolutely 
 certain of his guilt. So you must forget what I have 
 just told you, Mademoiselle Marguerite." 
 
 She looked at him with an air of utter astonishment. 
 " You advise me to forget," she murmured, "you wish 
 me to forget." 
 
 " Yes ; you must conceal these suspicions in the deep- 
 est recesses of your heart, until the time comes when 
 you have sufficient proof to convict the culprits. It is 
 true that it will be a difficult task to collect such proofs ; 
 but it is not impossible, with the aid of time, which 
 divulges so many crimes. And you may count upon 
 me ; I will give you the benefit of all my influence and 
 experience. It shall never be said that I allowed a 
 defenceless girl to be crushed while I saw any chance 
 of saving her." 
 
 Tears came to Mademoiselle Marguerite's eyes. So 
 the world was not composed entirely of scoundrels! 
 " Ah ! how kind you are, monsieur," she said ; " how 
 kind you are ! " 
 
 " To be sure ! " he interrupted, in a benevolent tone. 
 " But, my child, you must help yourself. Remember 
 this : if the Fondeges suspect our suspicions, ail is lost. 
 Repeat this to yourself at every moment in the day 
 and be discreet, impenetrable; for people with unclean 
 consciences and hands are always distrustful of others." 
 
 There was no necessity to say anything more on this 
 point ; and so, with a sudden change of tone he asked : 
 ** Have you any plan ? " 
 
 She felt that she could, and ought, ta confide every- 
 thing to this worthy old man, and so rising to feer feet, 
 with a look of energy and determination on her face, 
 she replied in a firm voice : " My decision is taken, 
 
388 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 monsieur, subject, of course, to your approval. In the 
 first place I shall keep Madame Leon with me, in what- 
 ever capacity she likes, it doesn't matter what. Through 
 her I shall no doubt be able to watch the Marquis de 
 Valorsay, and perhaps eventually discover his hopes 
 and his aim. In the second place, I shall accept the 
 hospitality offered me by the General and his wife. 
 With them, I shall be in the very centre of the intrigue, 
 and in a position to collect proofs of their infamy." 
 
 The magistrate gave vent to an exclamation of de- 
 light "You are a brave girl, Mademoiselle Margue- 
 rite/' he said, "and at the same time a prudent one. 
 Yes ; that is the proper course to pursue." 
 
 Nothing now remained save to make arrangements 
 for her departure. She possessed some very handsome 
 diamonds and other costly jewels; should she keep 
 them? "They are undoubtedly mine," said she; "but 
 after the infamous accusations levelled at me, I can't 
 consent to take them away with me. They are worth a 
 very handsome amount. I shall leave them with you, 
 monsieur. If the courts restore them to me later 
 well I shall take them and not without pleasure, I 
 frankly confess." Then as the magistrate questioned 
 her anxiously as to her resources, she replied: "Oh! 
 I'm not without money. M. de Chalusse was generos- 
 ity itself., and my tastes are very simple. From the 
 money he gave me for my clothes I saved more than 
 eight thousand francs in less than six months. That is 
 more than sufficient to maintain me for a year." 
 
 The magistrate then explained that when the court 
 took possession of this immense estate, it would surely 
 allow her a certain sum. For whether the count was 
 her father or not, he was at any rate her officially ap- 
 pointed guardian, and she would be considered a minor. 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 389 
 
 And in support of his assertion, he quoted Article 367 
 of the Civil Code, which says : " In the event of the 
 officially appointed guardian dying without adopting 
 his ward, the said ward shall he furnished during her 
 minority with the means of subsistence from the said 
 guardian's estate/' etc., etc. 
 
 " An additional reason why I should give up my 
 jewels/' said Mademoiselle Marguerite. 
 
 The only point that now remained was to decide upon 
 some plan by which she could communicate with her 
 friend, the magistrate, without the knowledge of the 
 General or his wife. The magistrate accordingly ex- 
 plained a system of correspondence which would defy 
 the closest surveillance, and then added : " Now. make 
 haste back to your visitor. Who knows what sus- 
 picions your absence may have caused her ? " 
 
 But Mademoiselle Marguerite had one more request 
 to make. She had often seen in M. de Chalusse*s pos- 
 session a little note-book, in which he entered the 
 names and addresses of the persons with whom he had 
 business transactions. M. Fortunat's address must be 
 there, so she asked and obtained permission to examine 
 this note-book, and to her great joy, under the letter 
 " F/' she found the entry: " Fortunat (Isidore), No. 
 28 Place de la Bourse." " Ah ! I'm sure that I shall 
 find Pascal now ! " she exclaimed. And after once 
 more thanking the magistrate, she returned to her room 
 again. 
 
 Madame de Fondege was awaiting her with feverish 
 impatience. " How long you stayed ! " she cried. 
 
 " I had so many explanations to give, madame." 
 
 " How you are tormented, my poor child ! " 
 
 " Oh, shamefully ! 
 
 This furnished Madame de Fondege with another 
 
390 THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 
 
 excuse for proffering her advice. But Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite would not allow herself to be convinced at 
 once. She raised a great many objections, and par- 
 leyed for a long time before telling Madame de Fon- 
 dege that she would be happy to accept the hospitality 
 which had been offered her. And her consent was by 
 no means unconditional. She insisted on paying her 
 board., and expressed the wish to retain the services of 
 Madame Leon to whom she was so much attached. The 
 worthy housekeeper was present at this conference. 
 For an instant she had feared that Mademoiselle Mar- 
 guerite suspected her manoeuvres, but her fears were 
 now dispelled, and she even congratulated herself on 
 her skilfulness. Everything was arranged, and the 
 agreement had been sealed with a kiss, when the Gen- 
 eral returned about four o'clock. " Ah, my dear ! '' 
 cried his wife, " what happiness ! We have a daughter !" ? 
 
 But even this intelligence was scarcely sufficient to 
 revive her husband's drooping spirits. He had almost 
 fainted when he heard the earth falling on M. de Cha- 
 lusse's coffin; and this display of weakness on the part 
 of a man adorned with such terrible and ferocious 
 mustaches had excited no little comment. " Yes, it . is 
 a great happiness ! " he now replied. " But thunder 
 and lightning ! I never doubted the dear girl's heart ! " 
 
 Still both he and his wife could scarcely conceal their 
 disappointment when the magistrate informed them that 
 their beloved daughter would not take her diamonds. 
 " Dash it t " growled the General. " I recognize her 
 father in this ! What delicacy ! almost too much, per- 
 haps!" 
 
 However, when the magistrate informed him that 
 the court would undoubtedly order the restitution of the 
 jewels, his face brightened again, and he went down 
 
THE COUNT'S MILLIONS 391 
 
 to superintend the removal of Mademoiselle Margue- 
 rite's trunks, which were being loaded on one of the 
 vehicles of the establishment. 
 
 Then the moment of departure came. Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite acknowledged the parting remarks of the 
 servants, who were secretly delighted to be freed from 
 her presence, and then, before entering the carriage, she 
 cast a long, sad look upon this princely mansion which 
 she had once had the right to believe her own, but 
 which she was, alas ! now leaving, in all probability, 
 for ever, 
 
 The conclusion of this exciting narrative will be found 
 in the volume called "Baron TrigauWs Vengeance."