se is not so
desperate as you suppose. I still hold some valuable cards which you
are ignorant of. In your opinion, and every one else's, Mademoiselle
Marguerite is ruined. But I know that she is still worth three millions,
at the very least."

"Mademoiselle Marguerite?"

"Yes, Monsieur Twenty-per-Cent. Let her become my wife, and the very
next day I will place her in possession of an income of a hundred and
fifty thousand francs. But she must marry me first; and this scornful
maiden will not grant me her hand unless I can convince her of my love
and disinterestedness."

"But your rival?"

M. de Valorsay gave a nervous start, but quickly controlled himself.
"He no longer exists. Read this day's Figaro, and you will be edified.
I have no rival now. If I can only conceal my financial embarrassment a
little longer, she is mine. A friendless and homeless girl cannot defend
herself long in Paris--especially when she has an adviser like Madame
Leon. Oh! I shall win her! I shall have her!--she is a necessity to me.
Now you can judge if it would be wise on your part to deprive me of your
assistance. Would you like to know what I want? Simply this--the means
to sustain me two or three months longer--some thirty thousand francs.
You can procure the money--will you? It would make, in all, seventy
thousand francs that I should owe you, and I will promise to pay you
two hundred and fifty thousand if I succeed--and I shall succeed! Such
profit is worth some risk. Reflect, and decide. But no more subterfuges,
if you please. Let your answer be plain yes or no."

Without a second's hesitation, M. Fortunat replied, "No."

The flush on the marquis's face deepened, and his voice became a trifle
harsher; but that was all. "Confess, then, that you have resolved to
ruin me," he said. "You refuse before you have heard me to the end.
Wait, at least, until I have told you my plans, and shown you the solid
foundation which my hopes rest upon."

But M. Fortunat had resolved to listen to nothing. He wished for no
explanations, so distrustful was he of himself--so much did he fear
that his adventurous nature would urge him to incur further risk. He was
positively afraid of the Marquis de Valorsay's eloquence; besides, he
knew well enough that the person who consents to listen is at least half
convinced. "Tell me nothing, monsieur," he hastily answered; "it would
be useless. I haven't the money. If I had given you ten thousand francs
last ni