e'll be watching at the coach doors."

With one spring, Cephyse was in the coach. Too much overcome to speak
before, she now exclaimed, as she took her seat by Jacques, and remarked
the paleness of his countenance: "What is it? What do they want with
you?"

"I am arrested for debt," said Jacques, in a mournful voice.

"You!" exclaimed Cephyse, with a heart-rending sob.

"Yes, for that bill, or guarantee, they made me sign. And yet the man
said it was only a form--the rascal!"

"But you have money in his hands; let him take that on account."

"I have not a copper; he sends me word by the bailiff, that not having
paid the bill, I shall not have the last thousand francs."

"Then let us go to him, and entreat him to leave you at liberty. It was
he who came to propose to lend you this money. I know it well, as he
first addressed himself to me. He will have pity on you."

"Pity?--a money broker pity? No! no!"

"Is there then no hope? none?" cried Cephyse clasping her hands in
anguish. "But there must be something done," she resumed. "He promised
you!"

"You can see how he keeps his promises," answered Jacques, with
bitterness. "I signed, without even knowing what I signed. The bill is
over-due; everything is in order, it would be vain to resist. They have
just explained all that to me."

"But they cannot keep you long in prison. It is impossible."

"Five years, if I do not pay. As I'll never be able to do so, my fate is
certain."

"Oh! what a misfortune! and not to be able to do anything!" said
Cephyse, hiding her face in her hands.

"Listen to me, Cephyse," resumed Jacques, in a voice of mournful
emotion; "since I am here, I have thought only of one thing--what is to
become of you?"

"Never mind me!"

"Not mind you?--art mad? What will you do? The furniture of our two
rooms is not worth two hundred francs. We have squandered our money so
foolishly, that we have not even paid our rent. We owe three quarters,
and we must not therefore count upon the furniture. I leave you without
a coin. At least I shall be fed in prison--but how will you manage to
live?

"What is the use of grieving beforehand?"

"I ask you how you will live to-morrow?" cried Jacques.

"I will sell my costume, and some other clothes. I will send you half
the money, and keep the rest. That will last some days."

"And afterwards?--afterwards?"

"Afterwards?--why, then--I don't know--how can I tell you!
Afterwards--I'll look about me.