't screw ten out of me--not even tenpence."

"Indeed!" said the major, just to try him. "I heard that you had made up
with her."

"I? Certainly not. I have done with the likes of her for good."

Laguitte went away, feeling greatly perplexed. Where had the five
hundred and forty-five francs gone? Had the idiot taken to drinking or
gambling? He decided to pay Burle a surprise visit that very evening
at his own house, and maybe by questioning his mother he might learn
something. However, during the afternoon his leg became very painful;
latterly he had been feeling in ill-health, and he had to use a stick so
as not to limp too outrageously. This stick grieved him sorely, and he
declared with angry despair that he was now no better than a pensioner.
However, toward the evening, making a strong effort, he pulled himself
out of his armchair and, leaning heavily on his stick, dragged himself
through the darkness to the Rue des Recollets, which he reached about
nine o'clock. The street door was still unlocked, and on going up he
stood panting on the third landing, when he heard voices on the upper
floor. One of these voices was Burle's, so he fancied, and out of
curiosity he ascended another flight of stairs. Then at the end of a
passage on the left he saw a ray of light coming from a door which stood
ajar. As the creaking of his boots resounded, this door was sharply
closed, and he found himself in the dark.

"Some cook going to bed!" he muttered angrily. "I'm a fool."

All the same he groped his way as gently as possible to the door and
listened. Two people were talking in the room, and he stood aghast,
for it was Burle and that fright Rose! Then he listened, and the
conversation he heard left him no doubt of the awful truth. For a moment
he lifted his stick as if to beat down the door. Then he shuddered and,
staggering back, leaned against the wall. His legs were trembling under
him, while in the darkness of the staircase he brandished his stick as
if it had been a saber.

What was to be done? After his first moment of passion there had come
thoughts of the poor old lady below. And these made him hesitate. It
was all over with the captain now; when a man sank as low as that he was
hardly worth the few shovelfuls of earth that are thrown over carrion
to prevent them from polluting the atmosphere. Whatever might be said of
Burle, however much one might try to shame him, he would assuredly begin
the next day. Ah, heavens,