But Raoul had had time to notice upon the upper shelf of the box three bundles of bank-notes. These he quickly snatched with his left hand, slipped them under his coat and placed them between his waistcoat and shirt. Exhausted by her efforts, and yielding to the violence of her emotions, Madame Fauvel dropped Raoul's arm, and to avoid falling, supported herself on the back of Prosper's arm-chair. "I implore you, Raoul," she said, "I beseech you to put those bank-notes back in the box. I shall have money to-morrow, I swear it to you a hundred times over, and I will give it to you, my son. I beg you to take pity on your mother!" He paid no attention to her. He was examining the long scratch on the door. This mark of the theft was very convincing and disturbing. "At least," implored Madame Fauvel, "don't take all. Keep what you need to save yourself, and leave the rest." "What for? Would a balance make discovery less easy?" "Yes, because I--you see I can manage it. Let me arrange it! I can find an explanation! I will tell Andre that I needed money--" With precaution, Raoul closed the safe. "Come," he said to his mother, "let us leave, so that we may not be suspected. One of the servants might go to the drawing-room and be surprised not to find us there." His cruel indifference and cold calculation at such a moment filled Madame Fauvel with indignation. Yet she still hoped that she might influence her son. She still believed in the power of her entreaties and tears. "Ah me!" she said, "it might be as well! If they discover us, I care little or nothing. We are lost! Andre will drive me from the house, a miserable creature. But at least, I will not sacrifice the innocent. To-morrow Prosper will be accused. Clameran has taken from him the woman he loves, and you, now you will rob him of his honor. I will not." She spoke so loud and with such a penetrating voice that Raoul was alarmed. He knew that the office clerk slept in an adjoining room. Although it was not late, he might have gone to bed; and if so, he could hear every word. "Let us go," he said, seizing Madame Fauvel by the arm. But she resisted, and clung to a table, the better to resist. "I have been a coward to sacrifice Madeleine," she said quietly. "I will not sacrifice Prosper!" Raoul knew of a victorious argument which would break Madame Fauvel's resolution. "Ah!" he cried with a cynical laugh; "you do not know, then, that Prosper and I are in league, and that he shares my fate." "That is impossible." "What do you think? Do you imagine that it was chance which gave me the secret word and opened the box?" "Prosper is honest." "Of course, and so am I. But--we need the money." "You speak falsely!" "No, dear mother. Madeleine left Prosper, and--well, bless me! he has tried to console himself, the poor fellow; and such consolations are expensive." He had lifted the lamp; and gently but with much force pushed Madame Fauvel towards the staircase.