he price of the sale? Very willingly, this time."

And he placed in an envelope the notes handed him by his brother-in-law.

"This is the last will and testament of love," said the Marquis, as he
departed, to give the necessary instructions to his notary.

CHAPTER VI. THE FAREWELL

His debts were easily reckoned. He owed eight hundred thousand francs to
the Credit Foncier; four hundred thousand to Paul Landry; more than
one hundred thousand to various jewellers and shopkeepers; twenty-five
thousand to the Duc de Montgeron. It was necessary to sell the chateau
and the property at one million four hundred thousand francs, and the
posters advertising the sale must be displayed without delay.

Then he must say farewell to Fanny Dorville. Nothing should disturb a
sensible mind; the man who, with so much resolution, deprives himself
of his patrimonial estates should not meet less bravely the separation
imposed by necessity.

As soon as Henri appeared in Fanny's boudoir, she divined that her
presentiments of the previous night had not deceived her.

"You have lost heavily?" she asked.

"Very heavily," he replied, kissing her brow.

"And it was my fault!" she cried. "I brought you bad luck, and that
wretch of a Landry knew well what he was about when he made me cut the
cards that brought you misfortune!"

"No, no, my dear-listen! The only one in fault was I, who allowed
myself, through false pride, to be persuaded that I should not seem to
fear him."

"Fear him--a professional gambler, who lives one knows not how!
Nonsense! It is as if one should fight a duel with a fencing-master."

"What do you wish, my dear? The evil is done--and it is so great--"

"That you have not the means to pay the sum? Oh, but wait a moment."

And taking up a casket containing a superb collar of pearls, she said:

"This is worth fourteen thousand francs. You may well take them from me,
since it was you that gave them to me."

No doubt, she had read De Musset, and this action was perhaps a
refection of that of Marion, but the movement was sincere. Something
of the stern pride of this other Rolla was stirred; a sob swelled his
bosom, and two tears--those tears that rise to a soldier's eyes in the
presence of nobility and goodness--fell from his eyes upon the hair of
the poor girl.

"I have not come to that yet," he said, after a short silence. "But we
must part--"

"You are about to marry?" she cried.

"Oh, no!"

"Ah, so m