of memory,--"Rue du Cirque! Zelie Cadelle!
Really, I do not understand."

But, from the glance which M. de Tregars cast upon her, she must
have understood that she would not easily draw from him the
particulars which he had resolved not to tell.

"I believe, on the contrary," he uttered, "that you understand
perfectly."

"Be it so, if you insist upon it. What do you ask for Favoral?"

"I demand, not for Favoral, but for the stockholders who have been
impudently defrauded, the twelve millions which are missing from
the funds of the Mutual Credit."

Mme. de Thaller burst out laughing.

"Only that?" she said.

"Yes, only that!"

"Well, then, it seems to me that you should present your reclamations
to M. Favoral himself. You have the right to run after him."

"It is useless, for the reason that it is not he, the poor fool!
who has carried off the twelve millions."

"Who is it, then?"

"M. le Baron de Thaller, no doubt."

With that accent of pity which one takes to reply to an absurd
proposition,--"You are mad, my poor marquis," said Mme. de Thaller.

"You do not think so."

"But suppose I should refuse to do any thing more?"

He fixed upon her a glance in which she could read an irrevocable
determination; and slowly,

"I have a perfect horror of scandal," he replied, "and, as you
perceive, I am trying to arrange every thing quietly between us.
But, if I do not succeed thus, I must appeal to the courts."

"Where are your proofs?"

"Don't be afraid: I have proofs to sustain all my allegations."

The baroness had stretched herself comfortably in her arm-chair.

"May we know them?" she inquired.

Marius was getting somewhat uneasy in presence of Mme. de Thaller's
imperturbable assurance. What hope had she? Could she see some
means of escape from a situation apparently so desperate? Determined
to prove to her that all was lost, and that she had nothing to do
but to surrender,

"Oh! I know, madame," he replied, "that you have taken your
precautions. But, when Providence interferes, you see, human
foresight does not amount to much. See, rather, what happens in
regard to your first daughter,--the one you had when you were
still only Marquise de Javelle."

And briefly he called to her mind the principal incidents of Mlle.
Lucienne's life from the time that she had left her with the poor
gardeners at Louveciennes, without giving either her name or her
address,--the injury she had received by