m a sudden pain.

"Do you mean----?" asked he.

But Tantaine interrupted him with a low laugh, terrible to listen to.

"And why not?" said he. "Is it not better to kill than to be killed?"

Hortebise trembled from head to foot. He had no objection to extorting
money by the basest threats, but he drew the line at murder.

"And suppose we were found out?" muttered he.

"Nonsense! How could we be discovered? Justice always looks for a
motive; how, then could they bring it home to us? They could only find
out that a young lady adored by De Breulh had thrown him over in order
to marry Andre."

"Horrible!" murmured the doctor, much shocked.

"I daresay that it is horrible, and I have no wish to proceed to
extremities. I only wish to speak of it as a remote possibility, and one
that we may be compelled to adopt. I hate violence just as much as you
do, and trust that it may not be necessary."

Just then the door opened, and Paul entered, a letter in his hand. He
seemed in excellent spirits, and shook hands with both his visitors.

Tantaine smiled sarcastically as he contrasted Paul's high spirits with
the state of depression in which he had left him not many hours ago.

"Things are evidently going well with you," remarked the doctor, forcing
a smile.

"Yes; I cannot find any reason for complaint."

"Have you given your lesson?"

"Yes; what a delightful woman Madame Grandorge is! she has treated me so
kindly."

"That is a good reason for your being so happy," remarked the doctor,
with a tinge of irony in his voice.

"Ah, that is not the only reason," returned Paul.

"Shall I be indiscreet if I ask the real cause, then?"

"I am not quite sure whether I ought to speak on this matter," said he
fatuously.

"What! a love adventure already?" laughed the doctor.

The vanity of Paul's nature beamed out in a smile.

"Keep your secret, my boy," said Tantaine, in louder accents.

This, of course, was enough to loosen Paul's tongue.

"Do you think, sir," said he, "that I would keep anything from you?" He
opened the letter he held in his hand, continuing: "The portress handed
this to me as I came in; she said it was left by a bank messenger. Can
you guess where it came from? Let me tell you--it is from Mademoiselle
Flavia Rigal, and leaves no room to doubt of her sentiments toward me."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is so; and whenever I choose, Mademoiselle Flavia will be only too
ready to become Madame Paul."

For