s a beast, but he is worse after drink or losing at cards.
He is never home until after four in the morning."

"And what does his wife say?"

The query made Florestan laugh.

"Madame does not bother herself about her lord and master, I can assure
you. Sometimes they don't meet for weeks. All she wants is plenty of
money. And ain't we just dunned!"

"But the Mussidans are wealthy?"

"Tremendously so, but at times there is not the value of a franc in the
house. Then Madame is like a tigress, and would sent to borrow from all
her friends."

"But she must feel much humiliated?"

"Not a bit; when she wants a heavy amount, she sends off to the Duke de
Champdoce, and he always parts; but she doesn't mince matters with him."

"It would seem as if you had known the contents of your mistress's
letters?" remarked Mascarin with a smile.

"Of course I have; I like to know what is in the letters I carry about.
She only says, 'My good friend, I want so much,' and back comes the
money without a word. Of course it is easy to see that there has been
something between them."

"Yes, evidently."

"And when master and missus do meet they only have rows, and such rows!
When the working man has had a drop too much, he beats his wife, she
screams, then they kiss and make it up; but the Mussidans say things to
each other in cold blood that neither can ever forgive."

From the air with which Mascarin listened to these details, it almost
seemed as if he had been aware of them before.

"Then," said he, "Mademoiselle Sabine is the only nice one in the
house?"

"Yes, she is always gentle and considerate."

"Then you think that M. de Breulh-Faverlay will be a happy man?"

"Oh, yes; but perhaps this marriage will----" but here Florestan
interrupted himself and assumed an air of extreme caution. After looking
carefully round, he lowered his voice, and continued, "Mademoiselle
Sabine has been left so much to herself that she acts just as she thinks
fit."

"Do you mean," asked Mascarin, "that the young lady has a lover?"

"Just so."

"But that must be wrong; and let me tell you that you ought not to
repeat such a story."

The man grew quite excited.

"Story," repeated he; "I know what I know. If I spoke of a lover, it is
because I have seen him with my own eyes, not once, but twice."

From the manner in which Mascarin received this intelligence, Florestan
saw that he was interested in the highest degree.

"I'll tell you all