ate of alarm and confusion. In a corner, crouching on a seat, was the
German nursery-governess, crying. When she saw the banker she buried her
face in her hands and wept still more copiously than before. M. Godefroy
felt that some misfortune had happened.

"What's the meaning of all this? What's amiss? What has happened?"

Charles, the _valet de chambre_, a sneaking rascal of the worst type,
looked at his master with eyes full of pity and stammered: "Mr. Raoul--"

"My boy?"

"Lost, sir. The stupid German did it. Since four o'clock this afternoon
he has not been seen."

The father staggered back like one who had been hit by a ball. The
German threw herself at his feet, screaming: "Mercy, mercy!" and the
domestics all spoke at the same time.

"Bertha didn't go to _parc Monceau_. She lost the child over there on the
fortifications. We have sought him all over, sir. We went to the office
for you, sir, and then to the Chamber, but you had just left. Just
imagine, the German had a rendezvous with her lover every day, beyond
the ramparts, near the gate of Asnieres. What a shame! It is a place
full of low gipsies and strolling players. Perhaps the child has been
stolen. Yes, sir, we informed the police at once. How could we imagine
such a thing? A hypocrite, that German! She had a rendezvous, doubtless,
with a countryman--a Prussian spy, sure enough!"

His son lost! M. Godefroy seemed to have a torrent of blood rushing
through his head. He sprang at Mademoiselle, seized her by the arms and
shook her furiously.

"Where did you lose him, you miserable girl? Tell me the truth before I
shake you to pieces. Do you hear? Do you hear?"

But the unfortunate girl could only cry and beg for mercy.

The banker tried to be calm. No, it was impossible. Nobody would dare
to steal _his_ boy. Somebody would find him and bring him back. Of that
there could be no doubt. He could scatter money about right and left,
and could have the entire police force at his orders. And he would set
to work at once, for not an instant should be lost.

"Charles, don't let the horses be taken out. You others, see that this
girl doesn't escape. I'm going to the Prefecture."

And M. Godefroy, with his heart thumping against his sides as if it
would break them, his hair wild with fright, darted into his carriage,
which at once rolled off as fast as the horses could take it. What
irony! The carriage was full of glittering playthings, which sparkled
ever