swore that I would avenge it."

Would Mademoiselle Marguerite accept this explanation? Chupin feared so,
and accordingly turning quickly to his employer, he remarked: "To
say nothing of the fact that this fine gentleman has swindled you
outrageously, shrewd as you are--cheating you out of the forty thousand
francs you lent him, and which he was to pay you eighty thousand for."

M. Fortunat cast a withering look at his clerk, but the mischief was
done: denial was useless. He seemed fated to blunder in this affair.
"Well, yes," he declared, "it's true. Valorsay HAS defrauded me, and I
have sworn to have my revenge. I won't rest until I see him ruined."

Mademoiselle Marguerite was partially reassured, for she understood
his zeal now. Her scorn for the man was only increased; but she was
convinced that he would serve her faithfully. "I like this much better,"
said she. "It is better to have no concealment. You desire M. de
Valorsay's ruin. I desire the rehabilitation of M. Ferailleur. So our
interests are in common. But before acting in this matter, we must know
M. Ferailleur's wishes."

"They cannot be considered."

"And why?"

"Because no one knows what has become of him. When the desire for
revenge first took possession of me, I at once thought of him. I
procured his address, and went to the Rue d'Ulm. But he had gone away.
The very day after his misfortune, M. Ferailleur sold his furniture and
went away with his mother."

"I am aware of that, and I have come to ask you to search for him. To
discover his hiding-place will be only child's play to you."

"Do you suppose I haven't thought of this?" replied M. Fortunat. "Why, I
spent all day yesterday searching for him. By questioning the people
in the neighborhood I finally succeeded in ascertaining that Madame
Ferailleur left her home in a cab several hours after her son, and took
a very large quantity of baggage with her. Well, do you know where she
drove? To the Western railway station. I am sure of this, and I know she
told a porter there that her destination was London. M. Ferailleur is
now en route for America, and we shall never hear of him again!"

Mademoiselle Marguerite shook her head. "You are mistaken, sir," said
she.

"There can be no mistake about what I have just told you."

"I don't question the result of your investigations, but appearances are
deceitful. I thoroughly understand M. Ferailleur's character, and he is
not the man to be crushed by