received a letter in
which this friend said he had seen his father, and had had a long talk
with him. Afterward, Dubois, M. de Clameran's valet, came to tell him
that his "patron" reported everything as progressing finely.

On the ninth day of his voluntary seclusion, Prosper began to feel
restless, and at ten o'clock at night set forth to take a walk, thinking
the fresh air would relieve the headache which had kept him awake the
previous night.

Mme. Alexandre, who seemed to have some knowledge of M. Verduret's
affairs, begged Prosper to remain at home.

"What can I risk by taking a walk at this time, in a quiet part of
the city?" he asked. "I can certainly stroll as far as the Jardin des
Plantes without meeting anyone."

Unfortunately he did not strictly follow this programme; for, having
reached the Orleans railway station, he went into a cafe near by, and
called for a glass of ale.

As he sat sipping his glass, he picked up a daily paper, _The Sun_, and
under the head of "Fashionable Gossip," signed Jacques Durand, read the
following:

"We understand that the niece of one of our most prominent bankers,
M. Andre Fauvel, will shortly be married to M. le Marquis Louis de
Clameran. The engagement has been announced."

This news, coming upon him so unexpectedly, proved to Prosper the
justness of M. Verduret's calculations.

Alas! why did not this certainty inspire him with absolute faith? why
did it not give him courage to wait, the strength of mind to refrain
from acting on his own responsibility?

Frenzied by distress of mind, he already saw Madeleine indissolubly
united to this villain, and, thinking that M. Verduret would perhaps
arrive too late to be of use, determined at all risks to throw an
obstacle in the way of the marriage.

He called for pen and paper, and forgetting that no situation can excuse
the mean cowardice of an anonymous letter, wrote in a disguised hand the
following lines to M. Fauvel:

"DEAR SIR--You consigned your cashier to prison; you acted prudently,
since you were convinced of his dishonesty and faithlessness.

"But, even if he stole three hundred and fifty thousand francs from
your safe, does it follow that he also stole Mme. Fauvel's diamonds, and
pawned them at the Mont-de-Piete, where they now are?

"Warned as you are, if I were you, I would not be the subject of public
scandal. I would watch my wife, and would be distrustful of handsome
cousins.

"Moreover, I wo