will put a 'P'* on the bills, and
I shall live comfortably in Italy for the rest of my days as the Conte
Ferraro. [*Protested.] I was alone with him when he died, poor fellow,
in the marsh of Zembin, and I shall slip into his skin.... _Mille
diables_! the woman who is to follow after me might give them a clue!
Think of an old campaigner like me infatuated enough to tie myself to a
petticoat tail!... Why take her? I must leave her behind. Yes, I could
make up my mind to it; but--I know myself--I should be ass enough to
go back to her. Still, nobody knows Aquilina. Shall I take her or leave
her?"

"You will not take her!" cried a voice that filled Castanier with
sickening dread. He turned sharply, and saw the Englishman.

"The devil is in it!" cried the cashier aloud.

Melmoth had passed his victim by this time; and if Castanier's first
impulse had been to fasten a quarrel on a man who read his own thoughts,
he was so much torn up by opposing feelings that the immediate result
was a temporary paralysis. When he resumed his walk he fell once more
into that fever of irresolution which besets those who are so carried
away by passion that they are ready to commit a crime, but have not
sufficient strength of character to keep it to themselves without
suffering terribly in the process. So, although Castanier had made up
his mind to reap the fruits of a crime which was already half executed,
he hesitated to carry out his designs. For him, as for many men of mixed
character in whom weakness and strength are equally blended, the least
trifling consideration determines whether they shall continue to lead
blameless lives or become actively criminal. In the vast masses of
men enrolled in Napoleon's armies there are many who, like Castanier,
possessed the purely physical courage demanded on the battlefield, yet
lacked the moral courage which makes a man as great in crime as he could
have been in virtue.

The letter of credit was drafted in such terms that immediately on
his arrival he might draw twenty-five thousand pounds on the firm of
Watschildine, the London correspondents of the house of Nucingen. The
London house had already been advised of the draft about to be made upon
them, he had written to them himself. He had instructed an agent (chosen
at random) to take his passage in a vessel which was to leave Portsmouth
with a wealthy English family on board, who were going to Italy, and
the passage-money had been paid in the nam