Fanny hastily uncovered her face.

"Pardon me, monsieur," she said; "but as you were kind enough to carry out Monsieur MonlÉard's last wishes, may I hope that you will show yourself equally obliging to his widow?"

"I will do whatever you bid me, madame, too happy to be able to be of some service to you as well as to him."

"Thanks a thousand times, monsieur! You know now the position in which I stand. It seems to you, perhaps, that I have taken very coolly the calamity which has come upon me?"

"Madame, I do not presume to pass judgment upon your feelings."

"But put yourself in my place, monsieur; do you think that I can take as a proof of affection what my husband has done?"

"Dame! a proof of affection!" said Cherami to himself, scratching his nose.—"But, madame, if he feared that he should no longer be able to make you happy, if that thought made him lose his head——"

"At Monsieur MonlÉard's age, monsieur, a man should have strength of mind, courage. People lose their fortunes every day; but when a man is intelligent and persevering, he makes another."

"It may be that that's not so easy as you seem to think, madame. I, too, had a very neat fortune once; I ran through it; which, to my mind, is much better than gambling it away; it leaves sweeter-smelling memories; but I have never been able to get rich again."

"Monsieur MonlÉard finds fault with me; he says now that I care for nothing but pleasure; but, when he sought my hand, monsieur, why did he fascinate me by the prospect of a life of luxury and fÊtes, of splendid equipages and magnificent gowns? in short, of all the things which will always make a girl's heart beat fast? He married me from caprice, and when that caprice was gratified he was sorry he had married. Oh! I saw that more than once, and that is why, monsieur, I bear up so bravely under the news you have brought me."

"You had no need to tell me all this, madame; but I do not see——"

"I beg your pardon! this is what I ask you to do. In my present position, you can easily understand that I must see my father and sister; but I do not wish to go to them, or to be compelled to tell them of this fatal event."

"I understand, madame: you wish me to undertake to tell them of what has happened?"

"Oh! monsieur, if it would not be too great an abuse of your good-nature."

"I will go to your father's house, madame. Mon Dieu! while I am in the way of doing errands, it won't cost me any more."

"Ah! monsieur, how kind you are! how grateful I am to you!"

"I have always been at the service of the ladies. Monsieur Gerbault's address, if you please?"

"Ah! you know my father's name?"

"Yes, madame. Indeed, there are many things that I know; but I won't tell you them at this moment."

"Here is my father's address."

"Very good; I will go there at once, madame. If I can be of any further use to you, command me; Arthur Cherami, HÔtel du Bel-Air, Rue de l'Orillon, Belleville—but prepay your letters. I present my respects, madame."

"I am a sort of dead man's messenger just now," said Cherami to himself, as he went away; "but, after all, I couldn't refuse that young woman; she's so pretty, and she's no fool; far from it! Ah! I can understand how she bewitched Gustave. Never mind; for my part, I prefer a weak woman to a strong one."

Monsieur Gerbault was at home, and with his daughter, when Cherami made his appearance. Fanny's father, who had never seen his visitor, offered him a chair, and waited for him to explain the object of his visit. But Adolphine, as soon as he entered the room, recognized Cherami as the person who had dined with Gustave on the day of her sister's wedding; and Cherami, on his side, bestowed a graceful salutation upon the young lady, as upon a person whom he had met before.

"Do you know my daughter Adolphine, monsieur?" inquired Monsieur Gerbault, in surprise.

"Yes, monsieur; I had the pleasure of seeing mademoiselle on the day of your other daughter's wedding. I dined at Deffieux's that day, with someone who is not a stranger to you."

"Monsieur is a friend of Gustave," interposed Adolphine, hastily. Monsieur Gerbault frowned slightly, for he remembered being told that it was with a friend of Gustave that his son-in-law had fought a duel on the day after his wedding; however, he confined himself to saying, in rather a sharp tone:

"I am waiting for monsieur to be good enough to let us know the object of his visit."

The decidedly unamiable manner in which Monsieur Gerbault said these words began to irritate Cherami, who threw himself back in his chair, crying:

"Faith! my dear monsieur, if you think I came here to amuse myself, you're most miserably mistaken; my errand isn't a very agreeable one, at best."

"Monsieur, I beg you to——"

"Ah! but, you see, you assumed an air which—look you! that air of yours doesn't suit me at all, and if you were not this charming young lady's father, I'd have demanded satisfaction before this."

"Oh! monsieur, for heaven's sake!" exclaimed Adolphine, clasping her hands; "father didn't mean to offend you."

"Your father looked like a bulldog, mademoiselle, when you said that I was a friend of Gustave. Why was that? am I a friend to be despised, I pray to know? Friends like me, always ready to risk their lives in order to prove their devotion, don't grow on every bush, I beg you to believe. But here I am losing my temper, and I am wrong. I will tell you in a word what brings me here; it's no use to put on gloves. I come to inform you of the death of a young man of your acquaintance."

"O mon Dieu! Gustave is dead!" shrieked Adolphine, and fell back unconscious, while a ghastly pallor overspread her features.

"My child! my child! what is it, in God's name?" cried Monsieur Gerbault, trying to revive Adolphine; but she did not open her eyes.

Madeleine was summoned, and brought salts and vinegar. They carried the girl to an open window, while Cherami exclaimed:

"No, no; it isn't Gustave who's dead.—Poor girl! on my word, I was far from anticipating this. And it's because she thought Gustave was dead that she fainted. Well! well! well! Ah! the color's coming back a little; it will amount to nothing. See! she's opening her eyes; I will bring her back to life entirely."

He stooped over Adolphine, who was gazing listlessly about, and said:

"Let me set your mind at rest, mademoiselle; it's not Gustave who is dead; I wasn't talking about Castor."

"Is that true, monsieur?" she cried eagerly.

"I swear it by your head—and I wouldn't for the world endanger such a charming head!"

"Pray explain yourself then, monsieur!" said Monsieur Gerbault; "of whose death did you come to tell us?"

"Of your son-in-law, Auguste MonlÉard's; he died about two o'clock to-day, in the Bois de Boulogne."

At that, it was Monsieur Gerbault's turn to fly into a rage, and he strode toward Cherami, saying:

"Ah! you have killed him this time, shameless villain, and you come in person to announce his death! And you are not ashamed of your victory! One duel was not enough; you were bent on having his life!"

"Ta! ta! ta! now it's papa's turn. Deuce take it! where did I ever get fathers and uncles of this breed?—No, monsieur; I didn't kill your son-in-law; he killed himself; and, to speak frankly, it would have been much better for him to have met his death in the duel we fought; for it would have been a more honorable end. However, I will show you the proofs of what I state; for you are quite capable of not believing me: I expected as much; but you will have to surrender to the evidence."

Cherami handed Monsieur Gerbault the letter Auguste had written him, then told him all that we know already: what had happened in the Bois de Boulogne, and his visit to Fanny. During his narrative, Adolphine wept profusely, murmuring:

"Poor Auguste! Oh, dear! how my sister must suffer!"

The news of the suicide affected Monsieur Gerbault deeply, although officious friends had already told him that MonlÉard was speculating heavily, and in such wise as to risk his fortune. He attempted, thereupon, to apologize to Cherami for the suspicions he had conceived; but Cherami offered his hand, saying:

"Put it there, and let's say no more about it. You are quick, so am I; besides, when one learns of such an entirely unforeseen catastrophe, one has the right to get a little bewildered. Now that I have performed all the commissions that were intrusted to me, you have no further need of me, and I will go. Adieu, Papa Gerbault! Mademoiselle, your servant!"

As Adolphine accompanied him to the door, he seized the opportunity to ask her in an undertone:

"Do you know where Gustave is?"

"No, monsieur; but, I think, in Germany."

"I will unearth him, never fear; I have my cue!"