"Well, after he resigned, he had very little to live on, and the failure of some bank swept away the little that he had. In fact, if I hadn't happened to come across him, I believe he would have starved. Fortunately, I was able to take him on as overseer, and that pays him a little something." "Poor fellow! it was a lucky thing for him, though." "I should think so, particularly as he is married,--a love-match,--that is to say, the girl hadn't a penny, and there are two little children in the bargain, so you can judge of his situation. He manages to make both ends meet, but that is all. I have been to see him. He lives in a side street at the end of the Rue de Monceau." "At the end of the Rue de Monceau?" asked Gerald, hastily. "I, too, must go and see him." "He would be delighted, my dear Senneterre, for when misfortunes come, one's visitors are rare." "What is the number of the house?" "It is the only house on the street,--a little bit of a house. The devil! There's the second bell. I must leave you, my dear Senneterre, and get my men together. Good-bye; don't forget your promise." "No, certainly not." "And I may tell Clarville you're coming to see him?" "Yes, day after to-morrow." "It will please him very much; good-bye." "Good-bye, my dear fellow." "Don't forget Clarville's address." "I am not very likely to," thought Gerald. "The street where he lives must skirt the end of the garden of the house where I just saw that adorable girl." So, while the captain rushed off towards a group of wooden shanties in the distance, Gerald strolled along, a prey to a sort of feverish agitation. The sun was low in the horizon when he awoke from his reverie. "I don't know what will come of all this," he said to himself, "but this time, and it is the only time, I feel that I'm gone, absolutely gone, this time!" CHAPTER XXXI. THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. In spite of the deep and novel impression made upon Gerald by his interview with Herminie, he had met Ernestine de Beaumesnil; for, in accordance with the plans of the Rochaigues, the richest heiress in France had directly or indirectly made the acquaintance of the three aspirants for her hand. A month had passed since these different presentations, and since the first interview between Gerald and Herminie, an interview whose consequences will become apparent later on. The clock had just struck eleven, and Mlle. de Beaumesnil was sitting alone in her chamber, deeply absorbed in thought. Her girlish face had lost none of its sweetness and candour, though a rather sarcastic, and sometimes almost mournful, smile occasionally flitted across her lips, and one sometimes noticed a resolute expression, which contrasted strangely with the almost childish ingenuousness of her features. Suddenly Mlle. de Beaumesnil rose, walked to the mantel, and placed her hand on the bell rope; then she paused a moment as if undecided in relation to some important matter.