die until he had justified himself. That determination must have been
very powerful; for while his temples throbbed madly, hammered by the
blood that turned his face purple, while his ears were ringing and
his glazed eyes seemed already turned toward the terrible unknown, the
unhappy man muttered to himself in a thick voice, like the voice of a
shipwrecked man speaking with his mouth full of water in a howling gale:
"I must live! I must live!"

When he recovered consciousness, he was sitting on the cushioned bench
on which the workmen sat huddled together on pay-day, his cloak on the
floor, his cravat untied, his shirt open at the neck, cut by Sigismond's
knife. Luckily for him, he had cut his hands when he tore the grating
apart; the blood had flowed freely, and that accident was enough to
avert an attack of apoplexy. On opening his eyes, he saw on either side
old Sigismond and Madame Georges, whom the cashier had summoned in his
distress. As soon as Risler could speak, he said to her in a choking
voice:

"Is this true, Madame Chorche--is this true that he just told me?"

She had not the courage to deceive him, so she turned her eyes away.

"So," continued the poor fellow, "so the house is ruined, and I--"

"No, Risler, my friend. No, not you."

"My wife, was it not? Oh! it is horrible! This is how I have paid my
debt of gratitude to you. But you, Madame Chorche, you could not have
believed that I was a party to this infamy?"

"No, my friend, no; be calm. I know that you are the most honorable man
on earth."

He looked at her a moment, with trembling lips and clasped hands, for
there was something child-like in all the manifestations of that artless
nature.

"Oh! Madame Chorche, Madame Chorche," he murmured. "When I think that I
am the one who has ruined you."

In the terrible blow which overwhelmed him, and by which his heart,
overflowing with love for Sidonie, was most deeply wounded, he refused
to see anything but the financial disaster to the house of Fromont,
caused by his blind devotion to his wife. Suddenly he stood erect.

"Come," he said, "let us not give way to emotion. We must see about
settling our accounts."

Madame Fromont was frightened.

"Risler, Risler--where are you going?"

She thought that he was going up to Georges' room.

Risler understood her and smiled in superb disdain.

"Never fear, Madame. Monsieur Georges can sleep in peace. I have
something more urgent to do than avenge