he true scent; and so many
distinguished persons are involved in the ridicule of their parties that
the old _chef de police_, my friend, has sent them a private order to
leave Paris in a week. Paul is in raptures at it. He has spent eighteen
thousand in two months; detests the place; is dying to be back in
Dublin; and swears that except one Cossack officer he hasn't met a
pleasant fellow since he came abroad.'

'And Mrs. Paul?'

'Oh, the old story. I put Guilemain up to it, and he has hinted that
the Empress of Russia has heard of the Czar's attentions; that there's
the devil to pay in St. Petersburg; and that if she doesn't manage to
steal out of Paris slyly, some confounded boyard or other will slip a
sack over her head and carry her off to Tobolsk.

_Elizabeth and the Exiles_ has formed part of her reading, and Madame
de Roni will dream every night of the knout till she reaches her dear
native land.--But now to business. I, too, have made my discoveries
since we met. De Vere's high play has been a matter of surprise to all
who know him. I have found out his secret--he plays with forged _billets
de banque_.'

'And has the wretched fellow gone so far as this?'

'He doesn't know it; he believes that the money is the proceeds of
bills he has given to Burke, who affects to get them discounted. See
here--here are a handful of their notes. Guillemain knows all, and
retains the secret as a hold over Burke, whose honesty to himself he
already suspects. If he catch him tripping----'

'Then----'

'Why, then, the galleys for life. Such is the system; a villain with
them is worthless if his life isn't at their disposal Satan's bond
completely--all, all. But show me De Vere's room, and leave me alone
with him for half an hour. Let us then meet at my hotel, and concert
future measures.'

Having left O'Grady with De Vere, I walked out upon the boulevards, my
head full of the extraordinary facts so suddenly thronging one upon the
other. A dash of hope, that for many a day had not visited me, was now
mingled through all my meditations, and I began to think that there was
yet a chance of happiness for me.

I had not gone many paces when an arm was thrust into mine, and a hearty
chuckling laugh at the surprise rang in my ear. I turned: it was Mr.
Paul Booney, taking his morning's promenade of Paris, and now on his way
home with an enormous bouquet for Madame, which she had taught him to
present to her each day on her appeari