de the pursuit of the police."

"Well, yes, then. But to-morrow I must write to Affrays: I must
see her!"

"You have lost your mind, father," said Mlle. Gilberte. "Come, do
as I ask you."

He drew himself up to his full height.

"And suppose I refuse?"

But it was the last effort of his will. He yielded, though not
without an agonizing struggle and gave up to his daughter the
money, the proofs and the arms. And as she was walking away,
leaning on M. de Tregars' arm,

"But send me your mother, at least," he begged. "She will
understand me: she will not be without pity. She is my wife: let
her come quick. I will not, I can not remain alone."

XII

It was with convulsive haste that the Baroness de Thaller went over
the distance that separated the Rue St. Lazare from the Rue de la
Pepiniere. The sudden intervention of M. de Tregars had upset all
her ideas. The most sinister presentiments agitated her mind. In
the courtyard of her residence, all the servants, gathered in a
group, were talking. They did not take the trouble to stand aside
to let her pass; and she even noticed some smiles and ironical
gigglings. This was a terrible blow to her. What was the matter?
What had they heard? In the magnificent vestibule, a man was
sitting as she came in. It was the same suspicious character that
Marius de Tregars had seen in the grand parlor, in close conference
with the baroness.

"Bad news," he said with a sheepish look.

"What?"

"That little Lucienne must have her soul riveted to her body. She
is only wounded; and she'll get over it."

"Never mind Lucienne. What about M. de Tregars?"

"Oh! he is another sharp one. Instead of taking up our man's
provocation, he collared him, and took away from him the note I
had sent him."

Mme. de Thaller started violently.

"What is the meaning, then," she asked, "of your letter of last
night, in which you requested me to hand two thousand francs to
the bearer?"

The man became pale as death.

"You received a letter from me," he stammered, "last night?"

"Yes, from you; and I gave the money."

The man struck his forehead.

"I understand it all!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"They wanted proofs. They imitated my handwriting, and you swallowed
the bait. That's the reason why I spent the night in the
station-house; and, if they let me go this morning, it was to find
out where I'd go. I have been followed, they are shadowing me. We
are gone up,