s as rare in this department, as the name of
Pichon is common. With the exception of the Hon. M. Victor Langevin,
Counsellor to the Prefecture at Nancy, there is only known Langevin
(Pierre), usually called Pierrot, miller in the commune of Vergaville,
canton of Dieuze."

Fougas jumped nearly to the ceiling, crying,

"I have a son!"

He called the hotel-keeper, and said to him:

"Make out my bill, and send my baggage to the depot. Take my ticket for
Nancy; I shall not stop on the way. Here are two hundred francs, with
which I want you to drink to the health of my son! He is called Victor,
after me! He is counsellor of the Prefecture! I'd rather he were a
soldier; but never mind! Ah! first get somebody to show me the way to
the bank! I must go and get a million for him!"

As there is no direct connection between Dantzic and Nancy, he was
obliged to stop at Berlin. M. Hirtz, whom he met accidentally, told him
that the scientific societies of the city were preparing an immense
banquet in his honor; but he declined positively.

"It's not," said he, "that I despise an opportunity to drink in good
company, but Nature has spoken: her voice draws me on! The sweetest
intoxication to all rightly constituted hearts is that of paternal
love!"

To prepare, his dear child for the joy of a return so little expected,
he enclosed his million in an envelope addressed to M. Victor Langevin,
with a long letter which closed thus:

"A father's blessing is more precious than all the gold
in the world!

"VICTOR FOUGAS."

The infidelity of Clementine Pichon touched his _amour-propre_ a little,
but he soon consoled himself for it.

"At least," thought he, "I'll not have to marry an old woman, when
there's a young one waiting for me at Fontainebleau. And, moreover, my
son has a name, and a very presentable name. Fougas would be a great
deal better, but Langevin is not bad."

He arrived, on the 2d of September, at six o'clock in the evening, at
that large and beautiful but somewhat stupid city which constitutes the
Versailles of Lorraine. His heart was beating fit to burst. To
recuperate his energies, he took a good dinner. The landlord, when
catechized at dessert, gave him the very best accounts of M. Victor
Langevin: a man still young, married for the past six years, father of a
boy and a girl, respected in the neighborhood, and prosperous in his
affairs.

"I was sure of it!" said Fougas.

He poured down a bumper