s me to
despair, to impotence. Alas! I am indeed unfortunate."

"You unfortunate?" cried old Tabaret, singularly affected by his dear
Noel's sadness. "In heaven's name, what has happened to you?"

"I suffer," murmured the advocate, "and very cruelly. Not only do I fear
that the injustice is irreparable; but here am I totally without defence
delivered over to the shafts of calumny. I may be accused of inventing
falsehood, of being an ambitious intriguer, having no regard for truth,
no scruples of conscience."

Old Tabaret was puzzled. What connection could possibly exist between
Noel's honour and the assassination at La Jonchere? His brain was in
a whirl. A thousand troubled and confused ideas jostled one another in
inextricable confusion.

"Come, come, Noel," said he, "compose yourself. Who would believe any
calumny uttered about you? Take courage, have you not friends? am I
not here? Have confidence, tell me what troubles you, and it will be
strange, indeed if between us two--"

The advocate started to his feet, impressed by a sudden resolution.

"Well! yes," interrupted he, "yes, you shall know all. In fact, I am
tired of carrying all alone a secret that is stifling me. The part I
have been playing irritates and wearies me. I have need of a friend to
console me. I require a counsellor whose voice will encourage me, for
one is a bad judge of his own cause, and this crime has plunged me into
an abyss of hesitations."

"You know," replied M. Tabaret kindly, "that I regard you as my own son.
Do not scruple to let me serve you."

"Know then," commenced the advocate,--"but no, not here: what I have to
say must not be overheard. Let us go into my study."

CHAPTER IV.

When Noel and old Tabaret were seated face to face in Noel's study, and
the door had been carefully shut, the old fellow felt uneasy, and said:
"What if your mother should require anything."

"If Madame Gerdy rings," replied the young man drily, "the servant will
attend to her."

This indifference, this cold disdain, amazed old Tabaret, accustomed as
he was to the affectionate relations always existing between mother and
son.

"For heaven's sake, Noel," said he, "calm yourself. Do not allow
yourself to be overcome by a feeling of irritation. You have, I see,
some little pique against your mother, which you will have forgotten
to-morrow. Don't speak of her in this icy tone; but tell me what you
mean by calling her Madame Gerdy?"

"What I m