He hurried to his room, which was in the attic under the eaves, furnished with the most excessive simplicity: an iron bedstead, a table, and one chair. A trunk with a large lock upon it was also in the room.

Maslenes locked the door, and then dropped on the one chair the place contained. He sat for some minutes buried in thought.

"What am I to do? What am I to do?"

Then he rose, and opened the trunk of which we have spoken, with a key that he took from his pocket. He took out a bag, and a portfolio. He tried the weight of the bag and shrugged his shoulders. He then loosened the cord that held the bag together, and produced ten louis, at which he looked sadly. The portfolio contained three bank notes of one hundred francs each.

"And in two days I have five hundred francs to pay, and afterward what is to become of us?"

Then a long silence broken by the words once more, "Oh! how miserable I am!" He paced his room like a prisoner in his cell.

"What am I to do? I am afraid to try anything. I might, to be sure, earn a crust of bread for myself, but what is to become of her? Poor Jane!

and yet I would give my very life to spare her one pang. If she pleased she might, with her talent, be as rich as a queen, but she cannot forget the past, and that is my work!"

He counted the louis over and over again. Suddenly he started. It seemed to him that he heard a sound without; he threw the bag and the portfolio into the trunk and locked it, then rushed to the door. On opening it there was no one to be seen.

"Is there any one here?" he asked.

There was no reply.

"I was mistaken, of course."

He returned to his room and there found that the sounds were repeated, and came from the window. He went to it, and looking out saw the outlines of a human being. No robber would have attracted attention thus. Nevertheless Maslenes took down a revolver before he opened the window.

"Who is there?" he asked.

"Some one who wishes to speak to you!" And with these words the person jumped into the room.

Maslenes raised his revolver, but at this moment the light fell on the face of the unknown. He uttered a cry of horror.

"You here! Ah! leave me, leave me at once, or I swear that I will blow out your brains."

"No, sir, you will do nothing of the kind. It would be very inconvenient for you to find yourself with a dead body to get rid of. You would be obliged to give your name, and you certainly don't care for the police to put their nose into your affairs."

And as the intendant did not reply, the new comer continued:

"That is right! You are becoming reasonable, I see. It is really droll that we should meet again after all these years in this way!"

He seated himself, and drawing out a cigar, lighted it at the candle.

"Now listen to me," said Maslenes. "Why are you here? Go your way, and let me go mine. I am doing my best to repair the evil that I have committed in my life. I do not interfere with you, and I only ask that you shall leave me alone. You call yourself f.a.giano, and my name is Maslenes. Now, go."

The other sneered:

"You have become very haughty, convict Sanselme."

Sanselme, for he it was, uttered an angry exclamation:

"And you, Benedetto, are still the same scoundrel that you were!"

CHAPTER L.

CATASTROPHES.

The two men started to their feet, looking at each other as they had looked when Fate and their crimes first brought them together. Yes, it was Sanselme, who had simply changed the letters in his name and become Maslenes, who now spoke to his former a.s.sociate with such contempt.

And it was Benedetto who sneered and laughed in the face of the man whom at Toulon he had almost hated. They neither of them spoke, but in their faces a strange transformation took place. Sanselme, first so bold, almost arrogant, by degrees began to hang his head, while Benedetto looked more and more triumphant.

"Let us sit down and reason together," he said.

"And why?" answered Sanselme, drearily. "You and I have nothing in common."

"I don't know that!"

"Listen to me for one moment. Our respective positions must be distinctly defined. Fate brought us together--Fate separated us. Neither you nor I desire to awaken all these terrible memories. I now bid you forget my very existence--"

He stopped short. Benedetto had laid his hand on his shoulder.

"And suppose I do not wish to be forgotten by you?" he said, slowly.

Sanselme started and looked at him with a terrified expression.

"I desire quite the contrary, in fact. I wish you to recall every circ.u.mstance of our former acquaintance, up to that night at Beausset--"

"For Heaven's sake, say no more!"

"I must, for I need a witness to authenticate certain facts. And that witness must be yourself."

"You forget, I fancy, that were I to reveal the truth the scaffold would be your end!"

"Ah! that is my affair, Sanselme. You have but to answer my questions truly. I rely on you, for really," sneered Benedetto, "you have quite the air of an honest man. You remember. Do you remember the night of the 24th of February, 1839?"

"Am I dreaming?" murmured Sanselme, hiding his face. "Can he really ask such a question?"

"Do you remember the little house behind the church?"

"Yes, yes, I remember."

"A certain person of my acquaintance had a little business to attend to in that house. He was successful, and he carried off a million."

"I know nothing about that!" cried Sanselme, eagerly. And then with a gesture of loathing, he added, "I never saw any of the money."

"I dare say. You were extremely disinterested! I took the money and meant to get away with it quietly, but accident defeated this plan."

"For G.o.d's sake, say no more! Have you a heart?"