r story with apparent coldness, and yet,
in her secret heart, she perhaps hoped that by disclosing her terrible
sacrifice and long martyrdom, she would draw a burst of gratitude and
tenderness from her son, calculated to repay her for all her sufferings.
But the hope was vain. It would have been easier to draw water from a
solid rock than to, extract a sympathetic tear from Wilkie's eyes.
He was only alive to the practical side of this narrative, and what
impressed him most was the impudent assurance of Madame d'Argeles's
business associates. "Not a bad idea; not bad at all," he exclaimed.
And, boiling over with curiosity, he continued: "I would give something
handsome to know those men's names. Really you ought to tell me. It
would be worth one's while to know."

Any other person than this interesting young man would have been
crushed by the look his mother gave him--a look embodying the deepest
disappointment and contempt. "I think you must be mad," she remarked
coldly. And as he sprang up, astonished that any one should doubt his
abundant supply of good sense, "Let us put an end to this," she sternly
added.

Thereupon she hastily went into the adjoining room, reappearing a moment
later with a roll of papers in her hand. "Here," she remarked, "is
my marriage certificate, your certificate of birth, and a copy of my
renunciation--a perfectly valid document, since the court has authorized
it, owing to my husband's absence. All these proofs I am ready and
willing to place at your disposal, but on one condition."

This last word fell like a cold shower-bath upon Wilkie's exultant joy.
"What is this condition?" he anxiously inquired.

"It is that you should sign this deed, which has been drawn up by my
notary--a deed by which you pledge yourself to hand me the sum of two
million francs on the day you come into possession of the Chalusse
property."

Two millions! The immensity of the sum struck Wilkie dumb with
consternation. Nor did he forget that he would be compelled to give
the Viscount de Coralth the large reward he had promised him--a reward
promised in writing, unfortunately. "I shall have nothing left," he
began, piteously.

But with a disdainful gesture Madame d'Argeles interrupted him. "Set
your mind at rest," said she. "You will still be immensely rich. All the
estimates which have been made are far below the mark. When I was a girl
I often heard my father say that his income amounted to more than eight
hu