ouse on the Boulevard
Malesherbes near the church of St. Augustine, and in a suite of rooms
the rental of which was four thousand francs per annum. He had collected
together sufficient relics of his former splendor to dazzle the eyes of
the superficial observer. The apartment and the furniture stood in the
name of his body-servant, while his horse and brougham were by the same
fiction supposed to be the property of his coachman, for even in the
midst of his ruin the Marquis de Croisenois could not go on foot like
common people.

The Marquis had two servants only in his modest establishment--a
coachman, who did a certain amount of indoor work, and a valet, who knew
enough of cookery to prepare a bachelor breakfast. This valet Mascarin
had seen once, and the man had then produced so unpleasant an impression
on the astute proprietor of the Servants' Registry Office that he had
set every means at work to discover who he was and from whence he
came. Croisenois said that he had taken him into his service on the
recommendation of an English baronet of his acquaintance, a certain Sir
Richard Wakefield. The man was a Frenchman, but he had resided for some
time in England, for he spoke that language with tolerable fluency.
Andre knew nothing of these details, but he had heard of the existence
of the valet from M. de Breulh, when he had asked where the Marquis
lived.

At eight o'clock on the morning after he had surreptitiously left his
home in the manner described, Andre took up his position in a small
wine-shop not far from the abode of the Marquis de Croisenois. He had
done this designedly, for he knew enough of the manner and customs of
Parisian society to know that this was the hour usually selected by
domestics in fashionable quarters to come out for a gossip while their
masters were still in bed. Andre had more confidence in himself than
heretofore, for he had succeeded in saving Gaston; and these were
the means he had employed. After much trouble, and even by the use of
threats, he had persuaded the boy to return to his father's house. He
had gone with him; and though it was two in the morning, he had not
hesitated to arouse M. Gandelu, senior, and tell him how his son had
been led on to commit the forgery, and how he threatened to commit
suicide.

The poor old man was much moved.

"Tell him to come to me at once," said he, "and let him know that we two
will save him."

Andre had not far to go, for Gaston was waitin