t!' At last I said, 'Enough of this, the bank's
closed!' Then, what do you think he did? He watched the house until he
saw me go out; then he came in with a second-hand furniture-dealer,
and tried to sell everything, pretending that he was the master. And
my poor, dear mother would have allowed him to do it. Fortunately, I
happened to come in again. Let him sell my furniture? Not I. I would
sooner have been chopped in pieces! I went and complained to the
commissary of police, who made my father leave the house, and since then
we've lived in peace."

Certainly this was more than sufficient to explain and excuse Victor
Chupin's indignation. And yet he had prudently withheld the most serious
and important cause of his dislike. What he refrained from telling
was that years before, when he was still a mere child, without will or
discernment, his father had taken him from his mother, and had started
him down that terrible descent, which inevitably leads one to prison or
the gallows, unless there be an almost miraculous interposition on one's
behalf. This miracle had occurred in Chupin's case; but he did not boast
of it.

"Come, come!" said M. Fortunat, "don't worry too much about it. A
father's a father after all, and yours will undoubtedly reform by and
by."

He said this as he would have said anything else, out of politeness and
for the sake of testifying a friendly interest; but he really cared no
more for this information concerning the Chupin family than the grand
Turk. His first emotion had quickly vanished; and he was beginning to
find these confidential disclosures rather wearisome. "Let us get back
to business," he remarked; "that is to say, to Casimir. What did you do
with the fool after my departure?"

"First, monsieur, I sobered him; which was no easy task. The greedy
idiot had converted himself into a wine-cask! At last, however, when he
could talk as well as you and I, and walk straight, I took him back to
the Hotel de Chalusse."

"That was right. But didn't you have some business to transact with
him?"

"That's been arranged, monsieur; the agreement has been signed. The
count will have the best of funerals--the finest hearse out, with six
horses, twenty-four mourning coaches--a grand display, in fact. It will
be worth seeing."

M. Fortunat smiled graciously. "That ought to bring you a handsome
commission," he said, benignly.

Employed by the job, Chupin was the master of his own time, free to
utiliz