ir', my dear Sir."

CHAPTER V. A CHARMING VISITOR

Although Saniel had had no experience in business, he was not simple
enough not to know that in refusing him this loan Caffie meant to make
use of him.

"It is very simple," he said to himself, as he went downstairs. "He
undertakes to manage my affairs, and in such a way that some day I shall
have to save myself by marrying that charming girl. What a scoundrel!"

However, the situation was such that he was glad to avail himself of the
assistance of this scoundrel. At least, some time was gained, and when
Jardine found that he was not disposed to let himself be slaughtered, he
might accept a reasonable arrangement. But he must manage so that Caffie
would not prevent this arrangement.

Unfortunately, he felt himself hardly capable of such manoeuvring,
having been always straightforward, his eyes fixed on the end he wished
to attain, and thinking only of the work through which he would attain
it. And now he must act the part of a diplomat, submitting to craftiness
and rogueries that were not at all in accord with his open nature.
He had begun by not telling Caffie, instantly, what he thought of his
propositions; but it is more difficult to act than to control one's
self, to speak than to be silent.

What would he say, what would he do, when the time for action came?

He reached his house without having decided anything, and as he passed
before the concierge's lodge absorbed in thought, he heard some one call
him.

"Doctor, come in a moment, I beg of you."

He thought some one wished to consult him, some countryman who had
waited for his return; and, although he did not feel like listening
patiently to idle complainings, he turned back and entered the lodge.

"Some one brought this," the concierge said, handing him a paper that
was stamped and covered with a running handwriting. "This" was the
beginning of the fire of which Caffie had spoken. Without reading it,
Saniel put it in his pocket and turned to go; but the concierge detained
him.

"I would like to say two words to 'monchieur le docteur' about this
paper."

"Have you read it?"

"No, but I talked with the officer who gave it to me, and he told me
what it meant. It is unfortunate, doctor."

To be pitied by his concierge! This was too much.

"It is not as he told you," he replied, haughtily.

"So much the better. I am glad for you and for me. You can pay my little
bill."

"Give it to me."