rn them to you, sir."

"Why?"

"Because I wished the fact known to you of the money having been
offered and refused."

M. Barban d'Avranchel was quietly stroking his whiskers, once of a
bright red, but now almost entirely white.

"Is this an insinuation against the manager of the Mutual Credit?"
he asked.

Maxence looked straight at him; and, in a tone which affirmed
precisely the reverse,

"I accuse no one," he said.

"I must tell you," resumed the judge, "that M. de Thaller has
himself informed me of this circumstance. When he called at your
house, he was ignorant, as yet, of the extent of the embezzlements,
and was in hopes of being able to hush up the affair. That's why
he wished his cashier to start for Belgium. This system of
helping criminals to escape the just punishment of their crimes is
to be bitterly deplored; but it is quite the habit of your financial
magnates, who prefer sending some poor devil of an employe to hang
himself abroad than run the risk of compromising their credit by
confessing that they have been robbed."

Maxence might have had a great deal to say; but M. de Tregars had
recommended him the most extreme reserve. He remained silent.

"On the other hand," resumed the judge, "the refusal to accept the
money so generously offered does not speak in favor of Vincent
Favoral. He was well aware, when he left, that it would require a
great deal of money to reach the frontier, escape pursuit, and hide
himself abroad; and, if he refused the fifteen thousand francs, it
must have been because he was well provided for already."

Tears of shame and rage started from Maxence's eyes. "I am certain,
sir," he exclaimed, "that my father went off without a sou."

"What has become of the millions, then?" he asked coldly.

Maxence hesitated. Why not mention his suspicions? He dared not.

"My father speculated at the bourse," he stammered. "And he led a
scandalous conduct, keeping up, away from home, a style of living
which must have absorbed immense sums."

"We knew nothing of it, sir; and our first suspicions were aroused
by what the commissary of police told us."

The judge insisted no more; and in a tone which indicated that his
question was a mere matter of form, and he attached but little
importance to the answer,

"You have no news from your father?" he asked.

"None whatever."

"And you have no idea where he has gone?"

"None in the least."

M. d'Avranchel had already re