Mining Company, the Berchem Coal Mines, the
Greenland Fisheries, the Mutual Trust and Loan Association, and so on.
There had been a time when each of these securities would have fetched
five hundred or a thousand francs at the Bourse, but now they were not
worth the paper on which they were printed.

"Let us suppose, my dear sir," resumed M. Fortunat, "that you had a
drawer full of these securities----"

But the other did not allow him to finish. "I see," he exclaimed; "I
see--I can sell my stock, and put the proceeds in my pocket with perfect
safety. There is enough to represent my capital a thousand times over."

And, in a paroxysm of delight, he added:

"Give me enough of these shares to represent a capital of one hundred
and twenty thousand francs; and give me some of each kind. I should like
my creditors to have a variety."

Thereupon M. Fortunat counted out a pile of these worthless securities
as carefully as if he had been handling bank-notes; and his client at
the same time drew out his pocketbook.

"How much do I owe you?" he inquired.

"Three thousand francs."

The honest merchant bounded from his chair. "Three thousand francs!" he
repeated. "You must be jesting. That trash is not worth a louis."

"I would not even give five francs for it," rejoined M. Fortunat,
coldly; "but it is true that I don't desire to purchase these shares in
my creditors' interest. With you it is quite a different matter--this
trash, as you very justly call it, will save you at least a hundred
thousand francs. I ask only three per cent., which is certainly not
dear. Still, you know, I don't force any one to purchase them." And, in
a terribly significant tone, he added: "You can undoubtedly buy
similar securities on better terms; but take care you don't arouse your
creditors' suspicions by applying elsewhere."

"He would betray me, the scoundrel!" thought the merchant. And,
realizing that he had fallen into a trap, "Here are three thousand
francs," he sighed; "but at least, my dear sir, give me good measure,
and throw in a few thousand francs more."

The coal-merchant smiled the ghastly smile of a man who sees no way of
escape from imposition, and has, therefore, resolved to submit with the
best grace possible. But M. Fortunat's gravity did not relax. He
gave what he had promised--neither more nor less--in exchange for the
bank-notes, and even gravely exclaimed: "See if the amount is correct."

His client pocketed the shar