han eight hundred thousand francs' worth of the
most valuable land. By his mother, a Cottevise-Luxe, he is related to
the highest nobility of Poitou, one of the most exclusive that exists in
France, as every one knows.

When he received his nomination in Paris, his relationship caused him to
be received at once by five or six aristocratic families, and it was not
long before he extended his circle of acquaintance.

He possessed, however, none of the qualifications which ensure social
success. He was cold and grave even to sadness, reserved and timid
even to excess. His mind wanted brilliancy and lightness; he lacked
the facility of repartee, and the amiable art of conversing without a
subject; he could neither tell a lie, nor pay an insipid compliment.
Like most men who feel deeply, he was unable to interpret his
impressions immediately. He required to reflect and consider within
himself.

However, he was sought after for more solid qualities than these: for
the nobleness of his sentiments, his pleasant disposition, and the
certainty of his connections. Those who knew him intimately quickly
learned to esteem his sound judgment, his keen sense of honour, and to
discover under his cold exterior a warm heart, an excessive sensibility,
and a delicacy almost feminine. In a word, although he might be eclipsed
in a room full of strangers or simpletons, he charmed all hearts in a
smaller circle, where he felt warmed by an atmosphere of sympathy.

He accustomed himself to go about a great deal. He reasoned, wisely
perhaps, that a magistrate can make better use of his time than by
remaining shut up in his study, in company with books of law. He thought
that a man called upon to judge others, ought to know them, and for that
purpose study them. An attentive and discreet observer, he examined the
play of human interests and passions, exercised himself in disentangling
and manoeuvring at need the strings of the puppets he saw moving around
him. Piece by piece, so to say, he laboured to comprehend the working
of the complicated machine called society, of which he was charged to
overlook the movements, regulate the springs, and keep the wheels in
order.

And on a sudden, in the early part of the winter of 1860 and 1861, M.
Daburon disappeared. His friends sought for him, but he was nowhere to
be met with. What could he be doing? Inquiry resulted in the discovery
that he passed nearly all his evenings at the house of the Marchione