“As to pretend that I have benefitted by the embezzlements of my cashier that is simply stupid; and there can be no one to suggest such a thing, except Jottras and Saint Pavin, two scoundrels whom I have had ten times the opportunity to send to prison and who were the accomplices of Favoral. Besides, the matter is in the hands of justice; and I shall prove in the broad daylight of the court-room, as I have already done in the office of the examining judge, that, to save the Mutual Credit, I have sacrificed more than half my private fortune.” Tired of this speech, the evident object of which was to lead him to discuss, and to betray himself, “Conclude, sir,” M. de Tregars interrupted harshly. Still in the same placid tone, “To conclude is easy enough,” replied the baron. “My wife has told me that you were about to marry the daughter of my old cashier,--a very handsome girl, but without a sou. She ought to have a dowry.” “Sir!” “Let us show our hands. I am in a critical position: you know it, and you are trying to take advantage of it. Very well: we can still come to an understanding. What would you say, if I were to give to Mlle. Gilberte the dowry I intended for my daughter?” All M. de Tregars’ blood rushed to his face. “Ah, not another word!” he exclaimed with a gesture of unprecedented violence. But, controlling himself almost at once, “I demand,” he added, “my father’s fortune. I demand that you should restore to the Mutual Credit Company the twelve millions which have been abstracted.” “And if not?” “Then I shall apply to the courts.” They remained for a moment face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Then, “What have you decided?” asked M. de Tregars. Without perhaps, suspecting that his offer was a new insult, “I will go as far as fifteen hundred thousand francs,” replied M. de Thaller, “and I pay cash.” “Is that your last word?” “It is.” “If I enter a complaint, with the proofs in my hands, you are lost.” “We’ll see about that.” To insist further would have been puerile. “Very well, we’ll see, then,” said M. de Tregars. But as he walked out and got into his cab, which had been waiting for him at the door, he could not help wondering what gave the Baron de Thaller so much assurance, and whether he was not mistaken in his conjectures. It was nearly eight o’clock, and Maxence, Mme. Favoral and Mlle. Gilberte must have been waiting for him with a feverish impatience; but he had eaten nothing since morning, and he stopped in front of one of the restaurants of the Boulevard. He had just ordered his dinner, when a gentleman of a certain age, but active and vigorous still, of military bearing, wearing a mustache, and a tan-colored ribbon at his buttonhole, came to take a seat at the adjoining table.