g that forty thousand francs lent to the Marquis de
Valorsay.

Changing his tactics, he said to himself that, even if he had lost this
amount through M. de Chalusse's sudden death, it was much less than he
might obtain if he succeeded in discovering the unknown heirs to so many
millions. And he had some reason to hope that he would be able to do
so. Having been employed by M. de Chalusse when the latter was
seeking Mademoiselle Marguerite, M. Fortunat had gained some valuable
information respecting his client, and the additional particulars which
he had obtained from Madame Vantrasson elated him to such an extent that
more than once he exclaimed: "Ah, well! it is, perhaps, a blessing in
disguise, after all."

Still, M. Isidore Fortunat slept but little after his stormy interview
with the Marquis de Valorsay. A loss of forty thousand francs is not
likely to impart a roseate hue to one's dreams--and M. Fortunat prized
his money as if it had been the very marrow of his bones. By way of
consolation, he assured himself that he would not merely regain the sum,
but triple it; and yet this encouragement did not entirely restore
his peace of mind. The gain was only a possibility, and the loss was a
certainty. So he twisted, and turned, and tossed on his bed as if it had
been a hot gridiron, exhausting himself in surmises, and preparing his
mind for the difficulties which he would be obliged to overcome.

His plan was a simple one, but its execution was fraught with
difficulties. "I must discover M. de Chalusse's sister, if she is
still living--I must discover her children, if she is dead," he said to
himself. It was easy to SAY this; but how was he to do it? How could he
hope to find this unfortunate girl, who had abandoned her home thirty
years previously, to fly, no one knew where, or with whom? How was he to
gain any idea of the life she had lived, or the fate that had befallen
her? At what point on the social scale, and in what country, should he
begin his investigations? These daughters of noble houses, who desert
the paternal roof in a moment of madness, generally die most miserably
after a wretched life. The girl of the lower classes is armed against
misfortune, and has been trained for the conflict. She can measure
and calculate the force of her fall, and regulate and control it to a
certain extent. But the others cannot. They have never known privation
and hardship, and are, therefore, defenceless. And for the very re