“Yes, I have seen Madame Leonce,” repeated the old maid. “We had a cup of coffee together last night. She was greatly worried. It seems that Monsieur Gavard never comes home now before one o’clock in the morning. Last Sunday she took him up some broth, as she thought he looked quite ill.” “Oh, she knows very well what she’s about,” exclaimed Madame Lecœur, whom these attentions to Gavard somewhat alarmed. Mademoiselle Saget felt bound to defend her friend. “Oh, really, you are quite mistaken,” said she. “Madame Leonce is much above her position; she is quite a lady. If she wanted to enrich herself at Monsieur Gavard’s expense, she might easily have done so long ago. It seems that he leaves everything lying about in the most careless fashion. It’s about that, indeed, that I want to speak to you. But you’ll not repeat anything I say, will you? I am telling it you in strict confidence.” Both the others swore that they would never breathe a word of what they might hear; and they craned out their necks with eager curiosity, whilst the old maid solemnly resumed: “Well, then, Monsieur Gavard has been behaving very strangely of late. He has been buying firearms—a great big pistol—one of those which revolve, you know. Madame Leonce says that things are awful, for this pistol is always lying about on the table or the mantelpiece; and she daren’t dust anywhere near it. But that isn’t all. His money—” “His money!” echoed Madame Lecœur, with blazing cheeks. “Well, he’s disposed of all his stocks and shares. He’s sold everything, and keeps a great heap of gold in a cupboard.” “A heap of gold!” exclaimed La Sarriette in ecstasy. “Yes, a great heap of gold. It covers a whole shelf, and is quite dazzling. Madame Leonce told me that one morning Gavard opened the cupboard in her presence, and that the money quite blinded her, it shone so.” There was another pause. The eyes of the three women were blinking as though the dazzling pile of gold was before them. Presently La Sarriette began to laugh. “What a jolly time I would have with Jules if my uncle would give that money to me!” said she. Madame Lecœur, however, seemed quite overwhelmed by this revelation, crushed beneath the weight of the gold which she could not banish from her sight. Covetous envy thrilled her. But at last, raising her skinny arms and shrivelled hands, her finger-nails still stuffed with butter, she stammered in a voice full of bitter distress: “Oh, I mustn’t think of it! It’s too dreadful!” “Well, it would all be yours, you know, if anything were to happen to Monsieur Gavard,” retorted Mademoiselle Saget. “If I were in your place, I would look after my interests. That revolver means nothing good, you may depend upon it. Monsieur Gavard has got into the hands of evil counsellors; and I’m afraid it will all end badly.”