he, in a voice that
quivered in spite of his efforts. "My son is locked up in his room,
and a trustworthy servant whom he cannot corrupt has mounted guard over
him."

"Do you not fear, sir, that in his excitement and anger he may----?"

The contractor shrugged his shoulders.

"You do not know him," answered he, "if you imagine that he resembles
me in any way. What do you think that he is doing now? Lying on his bed,
face downward, yelling for his Zora. Zora, indeed! As if that was a name
fit for a Christian. How is it that these creatures are enabled to drug
our boys and lead them anywhere? Had his mother not been a saint on
earth, I should scarcely believe that he was my son."

The contractor sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

"You are in pain, sir?" said Andre.

"Yes; my heart is deeply wounded. Up to this time I have only felt as a
father; now I feel as a man. To-morrow I send for my family and consult
with them; and I shall advertise that for the future I will not be
responsible for any debts that my son may contract. He shall not have a
penny, and will soon learn how society treats a man with empty pockets.
As to the girl, she will disappear in double quick time. I have
thoroughly weighed the consequences of sending this girl to gaol, and
they are very terrible. My son will do as he has threatened, I am sure
of that; and I can picture him tied to that infamous creature for life,
looking into her face, and telling her that he adores her, and glorying
in his dishonor, which will be repeated by every Parisian newspaper."

"But is there no other way of proceeding?" asked Andre.

"No, none whatever. If all modern fathers had my courage, we should not
have so many profligate sons. It is impossible that this conferring with
the doctor and the money-lender could have originated in my son's weak
brain. He is a mere child, and some one must have put him up to it."

The poor father was already seeking for some excuse for the son's
conduct.

"I must not dwell on this longer," continued Gandelu, "or I shall get as
mad as I was before. I will look at your plans another day. Now, let us
get out of the house. Come and look at the new building in the Champs
Elysees."

The mansion in question was situated at the corner of the Rue de
Chantilly, near the Avenue des Champs Elysees, and the frontage of it
was still marked by scaffolding, so that but little of it could be
seen. A dozen workmen, engaged by