is
yours--return it when you can!"

"I thank you, my unselfish friend," replied Camors, much moved, "but I
need nothing. My affairs are disordered, it is true; but I shall still
remain richer than you."

"Yes, but with your tastes--"

"Well?"

"At all events, you know where to find me. I may count upon you--may I
not?"

"You may."

"Adieu, my friend! I can do you no good now; but I shall see you
again--shall I not?"

"Yes--another time."

Lescande departed, and the young Count remained immovable, with his
features convulsed and his eyes fixed on vacancy.

This moment decided his whole future.

Sometimes a man feels a sudden, unaccountable impulse to smother in
himself all human love and sympathy.

In the presence of this unhappy man, so unworthily treated, so
broken-spirited, so confiding, Camors--if there be any truth in old
spiritual laws--should have seen himself guilty of an atrocious act,
which should have condemned him to a remorse almost unbearable.

But if it were true that the human herd was but the product of
material forces in nature, producing, haphazard, strong beings and weak
ones--lambs and lions--he had played only the lion's part in destroying
his companion. He said to himself, with his father's letter beneath his
eyes, that this was the fact; and the reflection calmed him.

The more he thought, that day and the next, in depth of the retreat
in which he had buried himself, the more was he persuaded that this
doctrine was that very truth which he had sought, and which his father
had bequeathed to him as the whole rule of his life. His cold and barren
heart opened with a voluptuous pleasure under this new flame that filled
and warmed it.

From this moment he possessed a faith--a principle of action--a plan
of life--all that he needed; and was no longer oppressed by doubts,
agitation, and remorse. This doctrine, if not the most elevated, was at
least above the level of the most of mankind. It satisfied his pride and
justified his scorn.

To preserve his self-esteem, it was only necessary for him to preserve
his honor, to do nothing low, as his father had said; and he determined
never to do anything which, in his eyes, partook of that character.
Moreover, were there not men he himself had met thoroughly steeped in
materialism, who were yet regarded as the most honorable men of their
day?

Perhaps he might have asked himself whether this incontestable fact
might not, in part, have be