arin, whose whole face blazed with a gleam of
conscious power, "twenty-five years ago I and my associates were young
and in a very different position. We were honest then, and all the
illusions of youth were in full force; we had faith and hope. We all
then tenanted a wretched garret in the Rue de la Harpe, and loved each
other like brothers."

"That was long, long ago," murmured Hortebise.

"Yes," rejoined Mascarin; "and yet the effluxion of times does not
hinder me from seeing things as they then were, and my heart aches as I
compare the hopes of those days with the realities of the present. Then,
Marquis, we were poor, miserably poor, and yet we all had vague hopes of
future greatness."

Croisenois endeavored to conceal a sneer; the story was not a very
interesting one.

"As I said before, each one of us anticipated a brilliant career.
Catenac had gained a prize by his 'Treatise on the Transfer of Real
Estate,' and Hortebise had written a pamphlet regarding which the great
Orfila had testified approval. Nor was I without my successes. Hortebise
had unluckily quarrelled with his family. Catenac's relatives were poor,
and I, well, I had no family. I stood alone. We were literally starving,
and I was the only one earning money. I prepared pupils for the military
colleges, but as I only earned twenty-five sous a day by cramming a dull
boy's brain with algebra and geometry, that was not enough to feed us
all. Well, to cut a long story short, the day came when we had not a
coin among us. I forgot to tell you that I was devotedly attached to a
young girl who was dying of consumption, and who had neither food nor
fuel. What could I do? I knew not. Half mad, I rushed from the house,
asking myself if I had better plead for charity or take the money I
required by force from the first passer-by. I wandered along the
quays, half inclined to confide my sorrow to the Seine, when suddenly
I remembered it was a holiday at the Polytechnic School, and that if
I went to the _Cafe Semblon_ or the Palais Royal, I should most likely
meet with some of my old pupils, who could perhaps lend me a few sous.
Five francs perhaps, Marquis,--that is a very small sum, but in that day
it meant the life of my dear Marie and of my two friends. Have you ever
been hungry, M. de Croisenois?"

De Croisenois started; he had never suffered from hunger, but how could
he tell what the future might bring? for his resources were so nearly
exhausted, that e