ll I
had. I was quite young, and, as you see, quite what you call, I
believe, 'green.' I am no longer so now. Were such a thing to
happen to me to-day, I should want to know at once what had become
of the millions: I would feel all the pockets around me. I would
say, 'Stop thief!'"

At every word, as it were, M. Costeclar's uneasiness became more
manifest.

"It was not I," he said, "who received the benefit of M. de Tregars'
fortune."

Marius nodded approvingly.

"I know now," he replied, "among whom the spoils were divided. You,
M. Costeclar, you took what you could get, timidly, and according to
your means. Sharks are always accompanied by small fishes, to which
they abandon the crumbs they disdain. You were but a small fish
then: you accommodated yourself with what your patrons, the sharks,
did not care about. But, when you tried to operate alone, you were
not shrewd enough: you left proofs of your excessive appetite for
other people's money. Those proofs I have in my possession."

M. Costeclar was now undergoing perfect torture.

"I am caught," he said, "I know it: I told M. de Villegre so."

"Why are you here, then?"

"How did I know that the count had been sent by you?"

"That's a poor reason, sir."

"Besides, after what has occurred, after Favoral's flight, I thought
myself relieved of my engagement."

"Indeed!"

"Well, if you insist upon it, I am wrong, I suppose."

"Not only you are wrong," uttered Marius still perfectly cool, "but
you have committed a great imprudence. By failing to keep your
engagements, you have relieved me of mine. The pact is broken.
According to the agreement, I have the right, as I leave here, to go
straight to the police."

M. Costeclar's dull eye was vacillating.

"I did not think I was doing wrong," he muttered. "Favoral was my
friend."

"And that's the reason why you were coming to propose to Mlle.
Favoral to become your mistress? There she is, you thought, without
resources, literally without bread, without relatives, without
friends to protect her: this is the time to come forward. And
thinking you could be cowardly, vile, and infamous with impunity,
you came."

To be thus treated, he, the successful man, in presence of this
young girl, whom, a moment before, he was crushing with his impudent
opulence, no, M. Costeclar could not stand it. Losing completely
his head,

"You should have let me know, then," he exclaimed, "that she was
your mis