“I possess nothing in the world, sir,” she said in a broken voice. “My husband alone attended to our business-affairs. He never spoke to me about them; and I would not have dared to question him. Alone he disposed of our money. Every Sunday he handed me the amount which he thought necessary for the expenses of the week, and I rendered him an account of it. When my children or myself were in need of any thing, I told him so, and he gave me what he thought proper. This is Saturday: of what I received last Sunday I have five francs left: that, is our whole fortune.” Positively the commissary was moved. “You see, then, madame,” he said, “that you cannot hesitate: you must live.” Maxence stepped forward. “Am I not here, sir?” he said. The commissary looked at him keenly, and in a grave tone, “I believe indeed, sir,” he replied, “that you will not suffer your mother and sister to want for any thing. But resources are not created in a day. Yours, if I have not been deceived, are more than limited just now.” And as the young man blushed, and did not answer, he handed the seven hundred francs to Mlle. Gilberte, saying, “Take this, mademoiselle: your mother permits it.” His work was done. To place his seals upon M. Favoral’s study was the work of a moment. Beckoning, then, to his agents to withdraw, and being ready to leave himself, “Let not the seals cause you any uneasiness, madame,” said the commissary of police to Mme. Favoral. “Before forty-eight hours, some one will come to remove these papers, and restore to you the free use of that room.” He went out; and, as soon as the door had closed behind him, “Well?” exclaimed M. Desormeaux; But no one had any thing to say. The guests of that house where misfortune had just entered were making haste to leave. The catastrophe was certainly terrible and unforeseen; but did it not reach them too? Did they not lose among them more than three hundred thousand francs? Thus, after a few commonplace protestations, and some of those promises which mean nothing, they withdrew; and, as they were going down the stairs, “The commissary took Vincent’s escape too easy,” remarked M. Desormeaux. “He must know some way to catch him again.” VI At last Mme. Favoral found herself alone with her children and free to give herself up to the most frightful despair. She dropped heavily upon a seat; and, drawing to her bosom Maxence and Gilberte, “O my children!” she sobbed, covering them with her kisses and her tears,--“my children, we are most unfortunate.” Not less distressed than herself, they strove, nevertheless, to mitigate her anguish, to inspire her with sufficient courage to bear this crushing trial; and kneeling at her feet, and kissing her hands, “Are we not with you still, mother?” they kept repeating. But she seemed not to hear them.