the criminality of his associates, for the skilful hand of Mascarin had unwound and mastered all the bad materials of his nature. He was dazzled at the glorious future held out before him, and said to himself that a man like Mascarin, unfettered by law, either human or Divine, would be most likely to achieve his ends. “I should be in no danger,” mused he to himself, “if I yield myself up to the impetuous stream which is already carrying me along, for Mascarin is practised swimmer enough to keep both my head and his own above water.” Little did Paul think that every fleeting expression in his countenance was caught up and treasured by the wily Mascarin; and it was intentionally that he had permitted Paul to listen to this compromising conversation. He had decided that very morning, that if Paul was to be a useful tool, he must be at once set face to face with the grim realities of the position. “Now,” said he, “for the really serious reason for my visit. How do we stand now with regard to the Viscountess Bois Arden?” Van Klopen gave his shoulders a shrug as he answered, “She is all right. I have just sent her several most expensive costumes.” “How much does she owe you?” “Say twenty-five thousand francs. She has owed us more than that before.” “Really?” remarked Mascarin, “that woman has been grossly libelled; she is vain, frivolous, and fond of admiration, but nothing more. For a whole fortnight I have been prying into her life, but I can’t hit upon anything in it to give us a pull over her. The debt may help us, however. Does her husband know that she has an account with us?” “Of course he does not; he is most liberal to her, and if he inquired--” “Then we are all right; we will send in the bill to him.” “But, my good sir,” urged Van Klopen, “it was only last week that she paid us a heavy sum on account.” “The more reason to press her, for she must be hard up.” Van Klopen would have argued further, but an imperious sign from Mascarin reduced him to silence. “Listen to me,” said Mascarin, “and please do not interrupt me. Are you known to the domestics at the house of the Viscountess?” “Not at all.” “Well, then, at three o’clock sharp, the day after to-morrow, call on her. Her footman will say that Madame has a visitor with her.” “I will say I will wait.” “Not at all. You must almost force your way in, and you will find the Viscountess talking to the Marquis de Croisenois. You know him, I suppose?” “By sight--nothing more.” “That is sufficient. Take no notice of him; but at once present your bill, and violently insist upon immediate payment.” “What can you be thinking of? She will have me kicked out of doors.” “Quite likely; but you must threaten to take the bill to her husband. She will command you to leave the house, but you will sit down doggedly and declare that you will not move until you get the money.” “But that is most unbusinesslike behavior.”