"Monsieur, it has struck the half-hour; it's three minutes past," cried the waiter. "At last! that's very lucky! Off with you, then!" "But is monsieur's change all right? I want to be sure." "What's that? yes, blackguard, it's all right; here are two francs for you; and now, clear out!" "Shall I come back and tell monsieur the time again?" Cherami half rose from his seat; only half, but the waiter understood, and fled. The two letters were on the table; having thrown away the end of his cigar, Cherami took the one which was for himself, saying: "It's very strange; I really feel a sort of emotion. Come, no nonsense; let's see what there is inside!" He opened the letter and read: * * * * * "'My dear Monsieur:--When you read these words, I shall be dead---- ' * * * * * "Dead!" cried Cherami, striking the table violently with his clenched fist. "Nonsense! it isn't possible; I must have read it wrong! but, no; that's what it says: 'I shall be dead.' Let's go on: * * * * * "'I had a very respectable little fortune, but it wasn't enough for me; I speculated on the Bourse, and I had bad luck; I married, hoping that a woman's love would change the course of my ideas, and that an attractive home would satisfy my ambition. Unluckily, I was mistaken. The person whom I married has one of those emotionless hearts with which it is impossible to give play to one's feelings; after a week of wedlock, I found that she had not the slightest love for me, but that she desired to cut a figure in society, and to eclipse all other women. Thereupon I speculated more wildly than ever, in order to gratify my vanity, if nothing more. Ten days ago, I gave a great party, to try to disguise my condition. I still hoped to extricate myself; I risked all that I had! I lost, and I am ruined!--and, as I haven't your philosophy, as I could not determine to live in poverty after having tasted the pleasures of luxury, I am going to blow out my brains. Be good enough to call upon my wife and prepare her gently for the news; I do not think, however, that her heart will suffer most. "'I ask your pardon for the trouble I cause you, but I have formed this judgment of you: that you are a man and will keep the promise you made me. Receive my last adieu. "'AUGUSTE MONLEARD.'" * * * * * For a few moments after reading this letter, Cherami was speechless with dismay. He even put his hand to his eyes to wipe away a tear; then muttered: "What! that handsome young dandy who sat there just now! But, sacrebleu! perhaps it's not too late yet!"