a barrister means ruin. It means a career blighted; it means a life
buried, with little chance of resurrection. I see, you grasp the
supreme importance of that bit of evidence. The case of champagne is
as nothing compared with it, and this reminds me that in the crisis
now upon us I shall take another sip, with your permission. Sure you
won't join me?'

'Not at this juncture, Mr. Dacre.'

'I envy your moderation. Here's to the success of our search, Monsieur
Valmont.'

I felt sorry for the gay young fellow as with smiling face he drank
the champagne.

'Now, Monsieur,' he went on, 'I am amazed to learn how much you have
discovered. Really, I think tradespeople, solicitors, and all such
should keep better guard on their tongues than they do. Nevertheless,
these documents at my elbow, which I expected would surprise you, are
merely the letters and receipts. Here is the communication from the
solicitor threatening me with bankruptcy; here is his receipt dated
the twenty-sixth; here is the refusal of the wine merchant, and here
is his receipt for the money. Here are smaller bills liquidated. With
my pencil we will add them up. Seventy-eight pounds--the principal
debt--bulks large. We add the smaller items and it reaches a total of
ninety-three pounds seven shillings and fourpence. Let us now examine
my purse. Here is a five-pound note; there is a golden sovereign. I
now count out and place on the table twelve and sixpence in silver and
two pence in coppers. The purse thus becomes empty. Let us add the
silver and copper to the amount on the paper. Do my eyes deceive me,
or is the sum exactly a hundred pounds? There is your money fully
accounted for.'

'Pardon me, Mr. Dacre,' I said, 'but I observe a sovereign resting on
the mantelpiece.'

Dacre threw back his head and laughed with greater heartiness than I
had yet known him to indulge in during our short acquaintance.

'By Jove,' he cried, 'you've got me there. I'd forgotten entirely
about that pound on the mantelpiece, which belongs to you.'

'To me? Impossible!'

'It does, and cannot interfere in the least with our century
calculation. That is the sovereign you gave to my man Hopper, who,
knowing me to be hard-pressed, took it and shamefacedly presented it
to me, that I might enjoy the spending of it. Hopper belongs to our
family, or the family belongs to him. I am never sure which. You must
have missed in him the deferential bearing of a man-servant in Paris,