and had never spoken to him. Later--too late--he discovered what
vile intrigue it was that he had served. And when he became sincerely
repentant he loathed this Coralth who had caused his crime.

Nor was this all. The recognition of Coralth had inspired him with
remorse. It had aroused in the recesses of his conscience a threatening
voice which cried: "What are you doing here? You are acting as a spy for
a man you distrust, and whose real designs you are ignorant of. It was
in this way you began before. Have you forgotten what it led to? Have
you not sin enough already upon your conscience? Blood enough upon your
hands? It is folly to pretend that one may serve as a tool for villains,
and still remain an honest man!"

It was this voice which had given Chupin the courage to light his cigar
with the bank-note. And this voice still tortured him, as seated on the
bench he now tried to review the situation. Where, indeed, was he? With
rare good luck he had discovered the son whom Madame Lia d'Argeles had
so long and successfully concealed. But contrary to all expectations,
this young fellow already knew of the inheritance which he was entitled
to. M. de Coralth had already achieved what M. Fortunat had meant to do;
and so the plan was a failure, and it was useless to persist in it.

This would have ended the matter if Chupin had not chanced to know
the Viscount de Coralth's shameful past. And this knowledge changed
everything, for it gave him the power to interfere in a most effectual
manner. Armed with this secret, he could bestow the victory on M.
Fortunat, and force M. de Coralth to capitulate. And he could do this
all the more easily, as he was sure that Coralth had not recognized
him, and that he was perhaps ignorant of his very existence. Chupin had
allowed himself to be carried away by a sudden impulse of anger which
he regretted; he had made an ironical illusion to his enemy's past life,
but after all this had done no particular harm. So nothing prevented him
from lending M. Fortunat his assistance, and thus killing two birds with
one stone. He could have his revenge on Coralth, and at the same time
insure his patron a large fee, of which he could claim a considerable
share for himself. But no! The idea of deriving any profit whatever from
this affair inspired him with a feeling of disgust--honor triumphed over
his naturally crafty and avaricious nature. It seemed to him that any
money made in this way would soil h