“I am but too sure of it. Such a well-combined stroke too! But every thing is against us. In presence of the examining magistrate, Jottras held out well; but Saint Pavin spoke. That dirty rascal was not satisfied with the share allotted to him. On the information furnished by him, Costeclar was arrested this morning. And Costeclar knows all, since he has been your confidant, Vincent Favoral’s, and my own. When a man has, like him, two or three forgeries in his record, he is sure to speak. He will speak. Perhaps he has already done so, since the police has taken possession of Latterman’s office, with whom I had organized the panic and the tumble in the Mutual Credit stock. What can we do to ward off this blow?” With a surer glance than her husband, Mme. de Thaller had measured the situation. “Do not try to ward it off,” she replied: “It would be useless.” “Because?” “Because M. de Tregars has found Vincent Favoral; because, at this very moment, they are together, arranging their plans.” The baron made a terrible gesture. “Ah, thunder and lightning!” he exclaimed. “I always told you that this stupid fool, Favoral, would cause our ruin. It was so easy for you to find an occasion for him to blow his brains out.” “Was it so difficult for you to accept M. de Tregars’ offers?” “It was you who made me refuse.” “Was it me, too, who was so anxious to get rid of Lucienne?” For years, Mlle. Cesarine had not seemed so amused; and, in a half whisper, she was humming the famous tune, from “The Pearl of Poutoise,” “Happy accord! Happy couple!” M. de Thaller, beside himself, was advancing to seize the baroness: she was drawing back, knowing him, perhaps to be capable of any thing, when suddenly there was a violent knocking at the door. “In the name of the law!” It was a commissary of police. And, whilst surrounded by agents, they were taken to a cab. * * * “Orphan on both sides!” exclaimed Mlle. Cesarine, “I am free, then. Now we’ll have some fun!” At that very moment, M. de Tregars and Mlle. Gilberte reached the Rue St. Gilles. Hearing that her husband had been found, “I must see him!” exclaimed Mme. Favoral. And, in spite of any thing they could tell her, she threw a shawl over her shoulders, and started with Mlle. Gilberte. When they had entered Mme. Zelie’s apartment, of which they had a key, they found in the parlor, with his back towards them, Vincent Favoral sitting at the table, leaning forward, and apparently writing. Mme. Favoral approached on tiptoe, and over her husband’s shoulder she read what he had just written, “Affrays, my beloved, eternally-adored mistress, will you forgive me? The money that I was keeping for you, my darling, the proofs which will crush your husband--they have taken every thing from me, basely, by force. And it is my daughter--” He had stopped there. Surprised at his immobility, Mme. Favoral called, “Vincent!”