ness, and
politeness, but also by unwearying perseverance and tenacity. When he
decided that a debtor was to pay him a certain sum, it was paid. He
never relaxed in his efforts. Every other day some one was sent to
visit the debtor, to follow him, and harass him; he was surrounded by
M. Fortunat's agents; they pursued him to his office, shop, or
cafe--everywhere, continually, incessantly--and always with the most
perfect urbanity. At last even the most determined succumbed; to escape
this frightful persecution, they, somehow or other, found the money to
satisfy M. Fortunat's claim. Besides Victor Chupin, he had five other
agents whose business it was to visit these poor wretches. A list was
assigned to each man every morning; and when evening came, he made his
report to the cashier, who in turn reported to his employer. This branch
of industry added considerably to the profits of M. Fortunat's other
business, and was the third and last string to his bow.

The report proceeded as usual, but it was quite evident that M.
Fortunat's thoughts were elsewhere. He paused each moment to listen
eagerly for the slightest sound outside, for before receiving the
coal-merchant he had told Victor Chupin to run to the Rue de Courcelles
and ask M. Casimir for news of the Count de Chalusse. He had done this
more than an hour before; and Victor Chupin, who was usually so prompt,
had not yet made his appearance.

At last, however, he returned, whereupon M. Fortunat dismissed the
cashier, and addressed his messenger: "Well?" he asked.

"He is no longer living. They think he died without a will, and that the
pretty young lady will be turned out of the house."

This information agreed so perfectly with M. Fortunat's presentiments
that he did not even wince, but calmly asked: "Will Casimir keep his
appointment?"

"He told me that he would endeavor to come, and I'd wager a hundred to
one that he will be there; he would travel ten leagues to put something
good into his stomach."

M. Fortunat's opinion coincided with Chupin's. "Very well," said he.
"Only you were a long time on the road, Victor."

"That's true, m'sieur; but I had a little matter of my own to attend
to--a matter of a hundred francs, if you please."

M. Fortunat knit his brows angrily. "It's only right to attend to
business," said he; "but you think too much of money, Victor--altogether
too much. You are insatiable."

The young man proudly lifted his head, and with an ai