"Farewell, Mariette. I shall come to-morrow, accompanied by my father."

On hastening to his father's office a few moments afterward, Louis found it closed, and ascertained upon inquiry that M. Richard had not been there at all that day. Amazed at this strange change in the old man's regular habits, Louis hastened to the lodgings they shared in the Rue de Grenelle.

CHAPTER XI.

HIDDEN TREASURE.

As Louis was pa.s.sing the porter's lodge, that functionary remarked to him:

"Your father went out a couple of hours ago, M. Louis. He left this note for you, which I was to take to the office where you are employed, if you did not return before two o'clock in the afternoon."

The young man took the note. It read as follows:

"MY DEAR SON:--I am in receipt of a few lines from my friend, Ramon, who apprises me of his intention of leaving Dreux in company with his daughter almost simultaneously with his letter. He will, consequently, reach Paris to-day. As he has never been on a railway in his life, and is anxious to try that mode of travel, he will stop at Versailles, and he wishes us to meet him there. We can visit the palace, and afterward come on to Paris together by one of the late trains.

"I am to meet Ramon at the Hotel du Reservoir. If we should leave there to visit the palace before you arrive, you can easily find us. It is understood that this meeting with Mlle. Ramon is not to compromise you in the least. I merely desire that you should take advantage of this opportunity to see the injustice of your prejudice against that young lady. Besides, whatever your plans may be, you must realise that it would be very discourteous to Ramon, one of my most particular friends, to fail to keep the appointment he has made with us. So come, my dear Louis, if only for appearance's sake.

"From your father who loves you, and who has but one desire in the world,--your happiness.

"A. RICHARD."

But Louis, in spite of the deference he usually showed to his father's wishes, did not go to Versailles, feeling the utter uselessness of another meeting with Mlle. Ramon, as he was now even more than ever determined to marry Mariette.

The discovery of his father's wealth made no change in the industrious habits of Louis, who hastened to the office to perform his usual duties, and apologise for his absence during the morning. A desire to atone for that, as well as the preparation of several important doc.u.ments, kept him at the office much later than usual. As he was preparing to leave, one of his fellow clerks rushed in excitedly, exclaiming:

"Ah, my friend, such a terrible calamity has occurred!"

"What has happened?"

"There has been a frightful accident on the Versailles railroad."

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Louis, turning pale.

"The Paris train was derailed, several cars were telescoped, they took fire, nearly all the pa.s.sengers were either crushed or burned to death, and--"

Louis could wait to hear no more. Forgetting his hat entirely, he rushed out of the office, and, running to a neighbouring cab-stand, he sprang into one of the vehicles, saying to the coachman:

"Twenty francs _pourboire_ if you take me to the Versailles railway station at the top of your speed,--and from there, but I don't know yet,--only start, in Heaven's name start at once!"

"On the right or left bank of the river, monsieur?" asked the coachman, gathering up the lines.

"What?"

"There are two roads, monsieur, one on the right, the other on the left bank of the river."

"I want to go to the road where that terrible accident just occurred."

"This is the first I have heard of it, monsieur."

Louis drove back to the office to inquire of the fellow clerk who had brought the news, but, finding no one there, he ran out and was about to enter the cab again when the driver said:

"I have just learned that the accident was on the left line, monsieur."

Louis accordingly ordered him to drive to that station. Here the sad news was confirmed. He also learned at what point on the line the accident had occurred. The main road and then a cross road enabled him to reach Bas Mendon about nightfall, and, guided by the blaze of the burning cars, he soon found the scene of the catastrophe.

The press of the time gave such graphic accounts of this frightful calamity that is not necessary to enter into further particulars; we will merely say that all night Louis searched in vain for his father among the charred, disfigured, and terribly mutilated bodies. About four o'clock in the morning the young man, overcome with grief and fatigue, returned to Paris, with a faint hope that his father might have been one of the few who had escaped injury, and that he might have returned home during the night.

The carriage had scarcely reached the house before Louis sprang out and ran to the porter's lodge.

"Has my father returned?" he exclaimed.

"No, M. Louis."

"Ah! there can be no further doubt, then," murmured Louis. "Dead!

dead!"

His knees gave way under him, and he was obliged to sit down. After resting a few moments in the room of the porter, who offered him the usual condolences, Louis went slowly up to his room.

On seeing the bare, poorly furnished room so long shared with a father who had loved him so devotedly, and who had just met with such a frightful death, Louis's grief became uncontrollable, and he threw himself down on the bed, and, burying his face in his hands, wept long and bitterly.

About half an hour afterward he heard some one knock at the door, and the porter entered.

"What do you want?" asked Louis.

"I am sorry to disturb you at such a time, monsieur, but the coachman--"

"What coachman?" asked Louis, who in his grief had forgotten all about the carriage.

"Why, the coachman you kept all night. He says you promised him twenty francs drink money, which, with his charge for yesterday afternoon and last night, makes forty-nine francs in all that you owe him, and he wants his money."

"Pay him and let him go!" responded the young man, with sorrowful impatience.

"But forty-nine francs is a large sum of money, and I haven't that much, M. Louis."

"Good Heavens! what is to be done?" exclaimed Louis, suddenly aroused by this demand of the material interests of life. "I have no money, either."

And he spoke the truth, for he had never had at his disposal one-fourth of the amount that he owed the coachman.

"Then why did you keep the carriage so long, and above all, why did you promise the driver such a large _pourboire_? You must be mad! What are you going to do? Hadn't you better see if there is any money in your father's desk?"