entreated you to speak in his
defence. I am entitled to considerable indulgence, madame, and a great
deal ought to be forgiven me. My mother, unfortunately, was an honest
woman, who did not furnish me with the means of gratifying every whim."

Madame d'Argeles recoiled as if a serpent had suddenly crossed her path.

"What do you mean?" she faltered.

"You know as well as I do."

"I don't understand you--explain yourself."

With the impatient gesture of a man who finds himself compelled
to answer an idle question, and assuming an air of hypocritical
commiseration, he replied: "Well, since you insist upon it, I know,
in Paris--in the Rue de Helder, to be more exact--a nice young fellow,
whose lot I have often envied. He has wanted for nothing since the day
he came into the world. At school, he had three times as much money
as his richest playfellow. When his studies were finished, a tutor was
provided--with his pockets full of gold--to conduct this favored youth
to Italy, Egypt, and Greece. He is now studying law; and four times
a year, with unvarying punctuality, he receives a letter from London
containing five thousand francs. This is all the more remarkable, as
this young man has neither a father nor a mother. He is alone in the
world with his income of twenty thousand francs. I have heard him say,
jestingly, that some good fairy must be watching over him; but I know
that he believes himself to be the illegitimate son of some great
English nobleman. Sometimes, when he has drunk a little too much, he
talks of going in search of my lord, his father."

The effect M. de Coralth had created by these words must have been
extremely gratifying to him, for Madame d'Argeles had fallen back in her
chair, almost fainting. "So, my dear madame," he continued, "if I ever
had any reason to fancy that you intended causing me any trouble, I
should go to this charming youth and say: 'My good fellow, you are
strangely deceived. Your money doesn't come from the treasure-box of an
English peer, but from a small gambling den with which I am very well
acquainted, having often had occasion to swell its revenues with my
franc-pieces.' And if he mourned his vanished dreams, I should tell
him: 'You are wrong; for, if the great nobleman is lost, the good fairy
remains. She is none other than your mother, a very worthy person, whose
only object in life is your comfort and advancement.' And if he doubted
my word, I should bring him to his moth