that I
received from that firm."

"It is unnecessary," replied Andre. "Your statement is quite
sufficient."

"I should prefer to let you see the letter."

"No, thank you," replied Andre, not for a moment duped by the game that
was being played. "Pray take no more trouble. We shall, I presume, find
that the bills are at St. Etienne. There is no use in taking any more
trouble about them, and we will wait until they arrive at maturity. I
have the honor to wish you good morning."

And with these words he dragged away Gaston, who was actually about to
consult Van Klopen as to the most becoming costume for Zora to appear in
on leaving the prison of St. Lazare. When they were a few doors from the
man-milliner's, Andre stopped and wrote down the names of Van Klopen's
cloth merchants. Gaston was now quite at his ease.

"I think," remarked he, "that Van Klopen is a sharp fellow; he knows
that I am to be relied on."

"Where do you think your bills are?"

"At St. Etienne's, of course."

The perfect innocence of the boy elicited from Andre a gesture of
impatient commiseration.

"Listen to me," said he, "and see if you can comprehend the awful
position in which you have placed yourself."

"I am listening, my dear fellow; pray go on."

"You drew these bills through Verminet because Van Klopen would not give
you credit."

"Exactly so."

"How, then, do you account for the fact that this man, who was at first
disinclined to trust you, should without rhyme or reason, offer to
supply you now as he did to-day?"

"The deuce! That never struck me. It does seem queer. Does he want to
play me a nasty trick? But which of them is it--Verminet or Van Klopen?"

"It is plain to me that the pair of them have entered into a pleasant
little plot to blackmail you."

Young Gandelu did not at all like this turn, and he exclaimed,--

"Blackmail me, indeed! why, I know my way about better than that. They
won't get much out of me, I can tell you."

Andre shrugged his shoulders.

"Then," said he, "just tell me what you intend to say to Verminet when
he comes to you upon the day your bills fall due, and says to you, 'Give
me one hundred thousand francs for these five little bits of paper, or I
go straight to your father with them'?"

"I should say, of course--ah, well, I really do not know what I should
say."

"You could say nothing, except that you had been imposed on in the most
infamous way. You would plead for time, and Vermine