Left alone with the Viscount de Coralth, and consequently freed from all restraint, M. de Valorsay rose with a long-drawn sigh of relief. "What an interminable seance!" he growled. And, approaching his acolyte, who was sitting silent and motionless in an arm-chair, he slapped him on the shoulder, exclaiming: "Are you ill that you sit there like that, as still as a mummy?"

The viscount turned as if he had been suddenly aroused from slumber.

"I'm well enough," he answered somewhat roughly. "I was only thinking."

"Your thoughts are not very pleasant, to judge from the look on your face."

"No. I was thinking of the fate that you are preparing for us."

"Oh! A truce to disagreeable prophecies, please! Besides, it's too late to draw back, or to even think of retreat. The Rubicon is passed."

"Alas! that is the cause of my anxiety. If it hadn't been for my wretched past, which you have threatened me with like a dagger, I should long ago have left you to incur this danger alone. You were useful to me in times past, I admit. You presented me to the Baroness Trigault, to whose patronage I owe my present means, but I am paying too dearly for your services in allowing myself to be made the instrument of your dangerous schemes. Who aided you in defrauding Kami-Bey? Who bet for you against your own horse Domingo? Who risked his life in slipping those cards in the pack which Pascal Ferailleur held? It was Coralth, always Coralth."

A gesture of anger escaped the marquis, but resolving to restrain himself, he made no rejoinder. It was not until after he had walked five or six times round the smoking-room and grown more calm that he returned to the viscount's side. "Really, I don't recognize you," he began. "Is it really you who have turned coward? And at what a moment, pray? Why, on the very eve of success."

"I wish I could believe you."

"Facts shall convince you. This morning I might have doubted, but now, thanks to that vain idiot who goes by the name of Wilkie, I am sure, perfectly, mathematically sure of success. Maumejan, who is entirely devoted to me, and who is the greediest, most avaricious scoundrel alive, will draw up such a complaint that Marguerite will sleep in prison. Moreover, other witnesses will be summoned. By what Casimir has said, you can judge what the other servants will say. This testimony will be sufficient to convict her of the robbery. As for the poisoning, you heard Dr. Jodon. Can I depend upon him? Evidently, if I pay without haggling. Very well; I shall pay."

But all this did not reassure M. de Coralth. "The accusation will fall to the ground," said he, "as soon as the famous vial from which M. de Chalusse took two spoonfuls is found."

"Excuse me; it won't be found."

"But why?"

"Because I know where it is, my dear friend. It is in the count's escritoire, but it won't be there any longer on the day after to-morrow."

"Who will remove it?"

"A skilful fellow whom Madame Leon has found for me. Everything has been carefully arranged. To-morrow night at the latest Madame Leon will let this man into the Hotel de Chalusse by the garden gate, which she has kept the key of. Vantrasson, as the man is called, knows the management of the house, and he will break open the escritoire and take the vial away. You may say that there are seals upon the furniture, placed there by the justice of the peace. That's true, but this man tells me that he can remove and replace them in such a way as to defy detection; and as the lock has been forced once already--the day after the count's death--a second attempt to break the escritoire open will not be detected."

The viscount remarked, with an ironical air: "All that is perfect; but the autopsy will reveal the falseness of the accusation."

"Naturally--but an autopsy will require time, and that will suit my plans admirably. After eight or ten days' solitary confinement and several rigid examinations, Mademoiselle Marguerite's energy and courage will flag. What do you think she will reply to the man who says to her: 'I love you, and for your sake I will attempt the impossible. Swear to become my wife and I will establish your innocence?'"

"I think she will say: 'Save me and I will marry you!'"

M. de Valorsay clapped his hands. "Bravo!" he exclaimed; "you have spoken the truth. Remember, now, that your dark forebodings are only chimeras! Yes, she will swear it, and I know she is the woman to keep her vow, even if she died of sorrow. And the very next day I will go to the examining magistrate and say to him: 'Marguerite a thief! Ah, what a frightful mistake. A robbery has been committed, it's true; but I know the real culprit--a scoundrel who fancied that by destroying a single letter he would annihilate all traces of the breach of fidelity he had committed. Fortunately, the Count de Chalusse distrusted this man, and proof of his breach of trust is in existence. I have this proof in my hands.' And I will show a letter establishing the truth of my assertion."

No forebodings clouded the marquis's joy; he saw no obstacles; it seemed to him as if he had already triumphed. "And the day following," he resumed, "when Marguerite becomes my wife, I shall take from a certain drawer a certain document, given to me by M. de Chalusse when I was on the point of becoming his son-in-law, and in which he recognizes Marguerite as his daughter, and makes her his sole legatee. And this document is perfectly en regle, and unattackable. Maumejan, who has examined it, guarantees that the value of the count's estate cannot be less than ten millions. Five will go to Madame d'Argeles, or her son Wilkie, as their share of the property. The remaining five will be mine.

Come, confess that the plan is admirable!"

"Admirable, undoubtedly; but terribly complicated. When there are so many wheels within wheels, one of them is always sure to get out of order."

"Nonsense!"

"Besides, you have I don't know how many accomplices--Maumejan, the doctor, Madame Leon, and Vantrasson, not counting myself. Will all these people perform their duties satisfactorily?"

"Each of them is as much interested in my success as I am myself."

"But we have enemies--Madame d'Argeles, Fortunat----"

"Madame d'Argeles is about to leave Paris. If Fortunat is troublesome I will purchase his silence; Maumejan has promised me money."

But M. de Coralth had kept his strongest argument until the last. "And Pascal Ferailleur?" said he. "You have forgotten him."

No; M. de Valorsay had not forgotten him. You do not forget the man you have ruined and dishonored. Still, it was in a careless tone that ill accorded with his state of mind that the marquis replied: "The poor devil must be en route for America by this time."

The viscount shook his head. "That's what I've in vain been trying to convince myself of," said he. "Do you know that Pascal was virtually expelled from the Palais de Justice, and that his name has been struck off the list of advocates? If he hasn't blown his brains out, it is only because he hopes to prove his innocence. Ah! if you knew him as well as I do, you wouldn't be so tranquil in mind!"

He stopped short for the door had suddenly opened. The interruption made the marquis frown, but anger gave way to anxiety when he perceived Madame Leon, who entered the room out of breath and extremely red in the face.

"There wasn't a cab to be had!" she groaned. "Just my luck. I came on foot, and ran the whole way. I'm utterly exhausted;" and so saying, she sank into an arm-chair.

M. de Valorsay had turned very pale. "Defer your complaints until another time," he said, harshly. "What has happened? Tell me."

The estimable woman raised her hands to heaven, as she plaintively replied: "There is so much to tell? First, Mademoiselle Marguerite has written two letters, but I have failed to discover to whom they were sent. Secondly, she remained for more than an hour yesterday evening in the drawing-room with the General's son, Lieutenant Gustave, and, on parting, they shook hands like a couple of friends, and said, 'It is agreed.'"

"And is that all?"

"One moment and you'll see. This morning Mademoiselle went out with Madame de Fondege to call on the Baroness Trigault. I do not know what took place there, but there must have been a terrible scene; for they brought Mademoiselle Marguerite back unconscious, in one of the baron's carriages."

"Do you hear that, viscount?" exclaimed M. de Valorsay.

"Yes! You shall have the explanation to-morrow," answered M. de Coralth.

"And last, but not least," resumed Madame Leon, "on returning home this evening at about five o'clock, I fancied I saw Mademoiselle Marguerite leave the house and go up the Rue Pigalle. I had thought she was ill and in bed, and I said to myself, 'This is very strange.' So I hastened after her. It was indeed she. Of course, I followed her. And what did I see? Why, Mademoiselle paused to talk with a vagabond, clad in a blouse.

They exchanged notes, and Mademoiselle Marguerite returned home. And here I am. She must certainly suspect something. What is to be done?"

If M. de Valorsay were frightened, he did not show it. "Many thanks for your zeal, my dear lady," he replied, "but all this is a mere nothing.

Return home at once; you will receive my instructions to-morrow."

XVII.

Mademoiselle Marguerite had been greatly surprised on the occasion of her visit to M. Fortunat when she saw Victor Chupin suddenly step forward and eagerly exclaim: "I shall be unworthy of the name I bear if I do not find M. Ferailleur for you in less than a fortnight."

It is true that M. Fortunat's clerk did not appear to the best advantage on this occasion. In order to watch M. de Coralth, he had again arrayed himself in his cast-off clothes, and with his blouse and his worn-out shoes, his "knockers" and his glazed cap, he looked the vagabond to perfection. Still, strange as it may seem, Mademoiselle Marguerite did not once doubt the devotion of this strange auxiliary. Without an instant's hesitation she replied, "I accept your services, monsieur."

Chupin felt at least a head taller as he heard this beautiful young girl speak to him in a voice as clear and as sonorous as crystal. "Ah!

you are right to trust me," he rejoined, striking his chest with his clinched hand, "for I have a heart--but----"

"But what, monsieur?"

"I am wondering if you would consent to do what I wish. It would be a very good plan, but if it displeases you, we will say no more about it."