times I have been
duped, and should have blushed for myself had it been otherwise; I
secretly prided myself on acting in good faith, although this lowered me
in the eyes of others. As a matter of fact the world has a considerable
respect for cleverness, whatever form it takes, and success justifies
everything. So the world was pleased to attribute to me all the good
qualities and evil propensities, all the victories and defeats which had
never been mine; credited me with conquests of which I knew nothing, and
sat in judgment upon actions of which I had never been guilty. I scorned
to contradict the slanders, and self-love led me to regard the more
flattering rumors with a certain complacence. Outwardly my existence was
pleasant enough, but in reality I was miserable. If it had not been for
the tempest of misfortunes that very soon burst over my head, all
good impulses must have perished, and evil would have triumphed in the
struggle that went on within me; enervating self-indulgence would have
destroyed the body, as the detestable habits of egotism exhausted the
springs of the soul. But I was ruined financially. This was how it came
about.

"No matter how large his fortune may be, a man is sure to find some one
else in Paris possessed of yet greater wealth, whom he must needs aim at
surpassing. In this unequal conquest I was vanquished at the end of four
years; and, like many another harebrained youngster, I was obliged to
sell part of my property and to mortgage the remainder to satisfy my
creditors. Then a terrible blow suddenly struck me down.

"Two years had passed since I had last seen the woman whom I had
deserted. The turn that my affairs were taking would no doubt have
brought me back to her once more; but one evening, in the midst of a gay
circle of acquaintances, I received a note written in a trembling hand.
It only contained these few words:

"'I have only a very little while to live, and I should like to see
you, my friend, so that I may know what will become of my child--whether
henceforward he will be yours; and also to soften the regret that some
day you might perhaps feel for my death.'

"The letter made me shudder. It was a revelation of secret anguish in
the past, while it contained a whole unknown future. I set out on
foot, I would not wait for my carriage, I went across Paris, goaded by
remorse, and gnawed by a dreadful fear that was confirmed by the first
sight of my victim. In the extreme neat