calmly, "M. de N. did as you say, but of course not
employed by me, nor with my knowledge. Listen; the truth is this,--the
time has come to tell it. Before you left Paris for Aix I found myself
on the brink of ruin. I had glided towards it with my characteristic
recklessness, with that scorn of money for itself, that sanguine
confidence in the favour of fortune, which are vices common to every roi
des viveurs. Poor mock Alexanders that we spendthrifts are in youth! we
divide all we have among others, and when asked by some prudent friend,
'What have you left for your own share?' answer, 'Hope.' I knew, of
course, that my patrimony was rapidly vanishing; but then my horses
were matchless. I had enough to last me for years on their chance of
winning--of course they would win. But you may recollect when we
parted that I was troubled,--creditors' bills before me--usurers' bills
too,--and you, my dear Louvier, pressed on me your purse, were angry
when I refused it. How could I accept? All my chance of repayment was
in the speed of a horse. I believed in that chance for myself; but for
a trustful friend, no. Ask your own heart now,--nay, I will not say
heart,--ask your own common-sense, whether a man who then put aside your
purse--spendthrift, vaurien, though he might be--was likely to steal or
accept a woman's jewels. Va, mon pauvre Louvier, again I say, 'Fors non
mutat genus.'"

Despite the repetition of the displeasing patrician motto, such
reminiscences of his visitor's motley character--irregular, turbulent,
the reverse of severe, but, in its own loose way, grandly generous and
grandly brave--struck both on the common-sense and the heart of the
listener; and the Frenchman recognized the Frenchman. Louvier doubted De
Mauleon's word no more, bowed his head, and said, "Victor de Mauleon, I
have wronged you; go on."

"On the day after you left for Aix came that horse-race on which my
all depended: it was lost. The loss absorbed the whole of my remaining
fortune; it absorbed about twenty thousand francs in excess, a debt of
honour to De N., whom you called my friend. Friend he was not; imitator,
follower, flatterer, yes. Still I deemed him enough my friend to say to
him, 'Give me a little time to pay the money; I must sell my stud, or
write to my only living relation from whom I have expectations.' You
remember that relation,--Jacques de Mauleon, old and unmarried. By De
N.'s advice I did write to my kinsman. No answer came;