ed out. But, if he
owes you money, do not be anxious. He is a sly dog. He is going to be
married; and I have just renewed bills of his for twenty-six thousand
francs. Good-bye, M. Tabaret."

The usurer hurried away, leaving the poor old fellow standing like a
milestone in the middle of the pavement. He experienced something of
that terrible grief which breaks a father's heart when he begins to
realize that his dearly loved son is perhaps the worst of scoundrels.

And, yet, such was his confidence in Noel that he again struggled with
his reason to resist the suspicions which tormented him. Perhaps the
usurer had been slandering his friend. People who lend their money
at more than ten per cent are capable of anything. Evidently he had
exaggerated the extent of Noel's follies.

And, supposing it were true? Have not many men done just such insane
things for women, without ceasing to be honest?

As he was about to enter his house, a whirlwind of silk, lace, and
velvet, stopped the way. A pretty young brunette came out and jumped as
lightly as a bird into the blue brougham.

Old Tabaret was a gallant man, and the young woman was most charming,
but he never even looked at her. He passed in, and found his concierge
standing, cap in hand, and tenderly examining a twenty franc piece.

"Ah, sir," said the man, "such a pretty young person, and so lady-like!
If you had only been here five minutes sooner."

"What lady? why?"

"That elegant lady, who just went out, sir; she came to make some
inquiries about M. Gerdy. She gave me twenty francs for answering her
questions. It seems that the gentleman is going to be married; and she
was evidently much annoyed about it. Superb creature! I have an idea
that she is his mistress. I know now why he goes out every night."

"M. Gerdy?"

"Yes, sir, but I never mentioned it to you, because he seemed to wish to
hide it. He never asks me to open the door for him, no, not he. He slips
out by the little stable door. I have often said to myself, 'Perhaps he
doesn't want to disturb me; it is very thoughtful on his part, and he
seems to enjoy it so.'"

The concierge spoke with his eyes fixed on the gold piece. When he
raised his head to examine the countenance of his lord and master, old
Tabaret had disappeared.

"There's another!" said the concierge to himself. "I'll bet a hundred
sous, that he's running after the superb creature! Run ahead, go it,
old dotard, you shall have a little bit