"That would be very imprudent; for Mademoiselle p.o.r.nic, in self-defence, might declare that you also had written to Pierre, and that you were even more interested than she was in regaining possession of your correspondence. At the beginning of our conversation, you yourself admitted that there were some danger in this."

"And I asked you to try and frighten Mademoiselle p.o.r.nic out of the notion of slandering me. You politely refused. I shall, perhaps, be obliged to apply to a bolder person. Where does this woman live?"

"At No. 34, Avenue de Messine. But it would be useless for you to apply to her. Not a single letter was found at Dargental's. Besides, his pocket-book had been stolen from him."

"A Russia-leather pocket-book, with his initial and a marquis's coronet upon it!" exclaimed the countess, greatly agitated. "I gave it to him."

"Well, the question is to ascertain into whose hands it has fallen,"

remarked Puymirol. "If it has come into Blanche p.o.r.nic's possession, she will have destroyed her own letters, and have preserved yours."

"I can compel her to return them to me."

"I doubt it. If I thought it possible, I should not hesitate to make the attempt."

"My hand and fortune shall be the reward of the man who will restore my letters to me," said the countess, boldly.

It was impossible to declare more plainly that she was at the mercy of the person who had possession of her missives to Dargental, and Puymirol, still under the charm of her wonderful beauty, felt anxious to win the promised reward. "I will do all in my power to serve you," he said, rising, after he had pressed a kiss upon her soft white hand.

"Then begin by taking the five hundred louis you need to pay your gambling debts," was the quick reply.

"Anything but that," rejoined Puymirol, firmly. "Will you permit me to call again to-morrow?"

"At any hour you like. I shall always be at home to you."

Puymirol certainly deserved some credit for refusing Madame de Les...o...b..t's offers of pecuniary a.s.sistance, for never since the outset of his struggles in Parisian waters had he found himself in an equally trying position. A fortnight's continuous ill luck had reduced him to penury. It is true that he still had twenty-four hours' respite left him, but if he had had a month at his disposal, he would have been no better off, for he had nothing to expect from any one. George Caumont could render him no a.s.sistance, and his Aunt Besseges would not send him a penny, even had he merely asked her to advance him a portion of his next quarter's allowance.

There is nothing really better than violent exercise for dispelling gloomy thoughts, and, being fully aware of this fact, Puymirol, after taking leave of the countess, repaired to his club, and entered the fencing-room, in the hope of finding some pleasant company, and of gaining an appet.i.te by a bout with some foemen worthy of his steel. He fenced in turn with three of the best swordsmen present, even worsted the professor, and then having attained a tranquil state of mind, he began to consider where he should dine, and in what way he should spend his evening.

The club dinner not being quite ready, he decided to patronise the Lion d'Or, where he had not set foot since the catastrophe. He strolled there and went in without noticing a gentleman who was talking with the doorkeeper, and who entered immediately behind him. However, the first person he saw inside was Blanche p.o.r.nic, seated at table with a young and handsome officer. The meeting displeased him, but it was too late to beat a retreat. Blanche would think he was purposely avoiding her, and he did not wish to arouse her suspicions. She gave him a friendly smile as he pa.s.sed by--a smile which made her companion turn to look at the new comer who was greeted so familiarly. Puymirol responded by touching his hat politely, and then walked on to the other end of the room, for he felt that the right moment for an interview with Blanche had not yet arrived, and he did not care to be in her immediate neighbourhood.

Having ensconced himself in a corner, he ordered a first-rate dinner, and under the influence of some generous wine his ideas soon a.s.sumed a roseate hue. It was only when he had finished his dessert and had just poured himself out a little old brandy, that he noticed that a person dining in front of him--the gentleman who had followed him into the restaurant--was staring at him with strange persistency. Puymirol returned the stare with interest, and perceived that this stranger was a man considerably older than himself, carefully dressed, but with somewhat the look of a provincial. He did not once lower his eyes, but kept them persistently riveted on Puymirol, and the latter, who was by no means patient, soon called a waiter and ordered him in a loud voice to go and ask that gentleman why he was staring at him in such an extraordinary manner. The frightened servant did not seem at all anxious to deliver this disagreeable message, but the offender had heard the order, and laying his napkin on the table, he quietly rose, and came straight towards Puymirol, who prepared himself for an attack. However, the stranger, probably in order to convince Adhemar that he had no hostile intentions, began by bowing very politely, and then said, in a conciliatory tone: "Excuse me, sir, for having looked at you in an offensive manner. But I was trying to find some excuse for speaking to you, and now that you have furnished it, I will ask the favour of a moment's conversation."

"What have you to say to me?" retorted Puymirol, without abandoning his threatening att.i.tude.

"Permit me first to take a seat at your table. If I continue to talk to you standing, I shall attract the attention of all the people present.

They are already beginning to watch us, and they will think I am trying to pick a quarrel with you, whereas my intentions are really of the most peaceable kind. Besides, what I have to say to you is strictly confidential."

"Very well, take a seat and explain yourself, but be brief. First of all, who are you?"

"My name would have no significance to you," said the stranger, sitting down. "I don't know yours, nor do I wish to know it."

"But how can you have any business with me if you don't know my name?

You are fooling me, and I am going--"

"Pray, grant me a hearing. I was at the door of the restaurant when you came in, and I asked the door-porter if you had not come here one day, under circ.u.mstances which he was bound to remember. He replied in the affirmative, so I followed you in, wondering how I should manage to enter into conversation with you. Pray, believe that I should not have watched for your coming here during a whole fortnight, if mere idle curiosity had prompted my desire to make your acquaintance."

"You dare to admit that you have been playing the spy on me for a fortnight?"

"I was not playing the spy, I merely told the doorkeeper that I would give him two louis if he would point out to me a gentleman who came here one morning in a cab to lunch with a party in a private room. He was anxious to secure the promised reward, of course, but you did not make your appearance until to-night."

"Well, confine yourself to facts. What do you want with me?"

"Before explaining myself more fully, I wish to satisfy myself that I am not making a mistake. So allow me, sir, to ask you one question, only one. Did you not, on Wednesday, the 9th of April, pa.s.s through the Place du Carrousel in a cab which turned into the Rue de Rivoli?"

"I have pa.s.sed through the Place du Carrousel hundreds of times in my life," said Adhemar, "but I am not at all sure that I pa.s.sed through it on the day you mention. I have no reason to recollect such an insignificant occurrence."

"You came here to lunch with some friends. You were not alone in the cab--"

"Well, say there were two of us, but what difference can that make to you and why have you taken so much trouble to look me up?"

"It did, indeed, cost me a deal of trouble. My only clue was the number of the cab, so I first tried to find the driver and ultimately succeeded. He remembered you very well on account of the liberal gratuity you gave him on dismissing him, and he told me he had set you and your friend down outside the Lion d'Or. I then spoke to the door-porter of the restaurant, who said that he knew you by sight, but that he was unable to give me your name or address; and the head waiter either could not or would not tell me anything. I again applied to the door-porter, giving him two louis, and promising him two more. He knew that you dined here sometimes, and he promised to point you out to me the first time you came if I had patience enough to wait for you every day between seven and eight. I accepted his offer, and by waiting patiently, I have at last accomplished my object."

"Well, well, come to the facts, for although you have been talking ten minutes or more, we have made no progress whatever." Puymirol had now abandoned all idea of repulsing the stranger. His curiosity was greatly excited, and he determined not to part with this man until he had subjected him to a close examination.

"I am coming to the facts, sir, and I trust you will not take offence at the question I am going to ask you. Did you find a pocket-book in the cab which brought you here a fortnight ago?"

"Here it comes at last!" thought Puymirol. "I have you now, my fine fellow."

"A pocket-book?" he repeated aloud in pretended astonishment. "No, certainly not. Had there been one in the cab I should of course have left it there, and as you know the number of the vehicle you should apply to the authorities, or rather to the driver, as you have succeeded in finding him."

"The driver saw nothing of it. He told me so, and I am sure that he told the truth."

"Then you may as well abandon all hope of recovering your pocket-book.

It must have been appropriated by one of the persons who hired the vehicle afterwards. Did it contain any bank-notes?"

"Not one; nothing, in fact, but a few lottery tickets which amount to nothing, for no one ever wins anything in the gigantic humbugs that are so extensively advertised."

"Then, why do you attach so much importance to the recovery of such worthless property?"

The stranger reflected for a moment, and then said, gravely: "I don't know who you are, sir, but I feel sure that you are an honourable man, so I do not hesitate to tell you that a woman's reputation is at stake.

The pocket-book also contained several letters."

"Good! I understand now. You fear that these letters may have fallen into the hands of some person who will make a bad use of them. That is improbable, however, as they could hardly interest the finder. But how the deuce did you happen to leave them in the cab--for I suppose they were addressed to you?"

"You are mistaken, sir. The woman who wrote them commissioned me to claim them from the man who received them. I was fortunate enough to obtain possession of them, but only after a deal of difficulty. I will even admit to you that I was obliged to threaten the scoundrel who held them, and who intended to make use of them. He finally yielded, but he hoped to regain possession of them, and with that object he had me followed by two of his hirelings. I found that out, and surmised that his spies first intended to find out where I was going, then to spring upon me just as I was entering the house, and wrest the pocket-book from me."

"In broad daylight, and in the heart of Paris? Why, you need only have summoned a policeman or some pa.s.ser-by to foil the scoundrels."

"That was exactly what they wanted. Had I called for a.s.sistance, my a.s.sailants would have accused me of stealing the pocket-book. A crowd would have gathered round us, and we should have been taken before a commissary of police, who would have found the pocket-book upon me. An examination of its contents would have been enough, and more than enough, to ruin the person I wished to save."

"Well, if I had been in your place, I should have crossed the bridge, and thrown the pocket-book into the Seine."

"Yes, I might have done that, but the idea did not occur to me. I was just turning out of the Rue de Rivoli when I saw several cabs waiting to enter that street. On pa.s.sing the last one I laid my hand on the ledge of the open window, and dropped the pocket-book inside."

"The men who were following you must have seen your gesture."

"The fact that they continued to follow me is sufficient proof to the contrary. I amused myself by leading them as far as Montrouge. There I entered a house that has two doors, and succeeded in escaping from them."

"But you must have expected that the occupants of the cab would pick up the pocket-book."