ed to battle with Paul's determination, but he found it
irrevocable, and it was justified by so many cogent reasons that the old
man finally ceased his endeavors to retain his client.

It is seldom that vessels sail promptly at the time appointed, but on
this occasion, by a fateful circumstance for Paul, the wind was fair and
the "Belle-Amelie" sailed on the morrow, as expected. The quay was lined
with relations, and friends, and idle persons. Among them were several
who had formerly known Manerville. His disaster, posted on the walls of
the town, made him as celebrated as he was in the days of his wealth and
fashion. Curiosity was aroused; every one had their word to say about
him. Old Mathias accompanied his client to the quay, and his sufferings
were sore as he caught a few words of those remarks:--

"Who could recognize in that man you see over there, near old Mathias,
the dandy who was called the Pink of Fashion five years ago, and made,
as they say, 'fair weather and foul' in Bordeaux."

"What! that stout, short man in the alpaca overcoat, who looks like a
groom,--is that Comte Paul de Manerville?"

"Yes, my dear, the same who married Mademoiselle Evangelista. Here he
is, ruined, without a penny to his name, going out to India to look for
luck."

"But how did he ruin himself? he was very rich."

"Oh! Paris, women, play, luxury, gambling at the Bourse--"

"Besides," said another, "Manerville always was a poor creature; no
mind, soft as papier-mache, he'd let anybody shear the wool from his
back; incapable of anything, no matter what. He was born to be ruined."

Paul wrung the hand of the old man and went on board. Mathias stood upon
the pier, looking at his client, who leaned against the shrouds, defying
the crowed before him with a glance of contempt. At the moment when
the sailors began to weigh anchor, Paul noticed that Mathias was making
signals to him with his handkerchief. The old housekeeper had hurried
to her master, who seemed to be excited by some sudden event. Paul asked
the captain to wait a moment, and send a boat to the pier, which was
done. Too feeble himself to go aboard, Mathias gave two letters to a
sailor in the boat.

"My friend," he said, "this packet" (showing one of the two letters) "is
important; it has just arrived by a courier from Paris in thirty-five
hours. State this to Monsieur le comte; don't neglect to do so; it may
change his plans."

"Would he come ashore?"

"Possibly,