last hour. On his writing table lay one of those
Catalan daggers, which he evidently used as a paper-cutter. I snatched
it up, and was about to strike, when the recollection of Marie dying of
cold and starvation occurred to me. I dashed the knife to the ground,
and rushed from the house in a state bordering on insanity. I went into
that house an honest man, and left it a degraded scoundrel. But I must
finish. When I reached the street, the two banknotes which I had taken
from the packet seemed to burn me like coals of fire. I hastened to a
money-changer, and got coin for them. I think, from my demeanor, he
must have thought that I was insane. With my plunder weighing me down,
I regained our wretched garret in the Rue de la Harpe. Catenac and
Hortebise were waiting for me with the utmost anxiety. You remember that
day, my friends. Marquis, my story is especially intended for you. As
soon as I entered the room, my friends ran up to me, delighted at seeing
me return in safety, but I thrust them aside.

"'Let me alone!' cried I; 'I am no longer fit to take an honest man's
hand; but we have money, money!' And I threw the bags upon the table.
One of them burst, and a flood of silver coins rolled to every part of
the room.

"Marie started from her chair with upraised hands. 'Money!' she
repeated, 'money! we shall have food, and I won't die.'

"My friends, Marquis, were not as they are now, and they started back in
horror, fearing that I had committed some crime.

"'No,' said I, 'I have committed no crime, not one, at least, that will
bring me within the reach of the strong arm of the law. This money is
the price of our honor, but no one will know that fact but ourselves.'

"Marquis, there was no sleeping in the garret all that night; but when
daylight peered through the broken windows, it beamed on a table covered
with empty bottles, and round it were seated three men, who, having cast
aside all honorable scruples, had sworn that they would arrive at wealth
and prosperity by any means, no matter how foul and treacherous they
might be. That is all."

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN INFAMOUS TRADE.

Mascarin, who was anxious to make as deep an impression as possible upon
Croisenois and Paul, broke off his story abruptly, and paced up and down
the room. Had his intention been to startle his audience, he had most
certainly succeeded. Paul was breathless with interest, and Croisenois
broke down in attempting to make one of his usu