id not seem disturbed, and the servant retired amazed at his
master's coolness. The count had at least sense enough to know the
state of his finances; and he had foreseen, nay, expected the
bailiff's visit. Three years before, when he had been laid up for
six weeks in consequence of a fall from his horse, he had measured
the depth of the gulf toward which he was hastening. Then, he might
yet have saved himself. But he must have changed his whole course
of life, reformed his household, learned that twenty-one franc
pieces made a napoleon. Fie, never! After mature reflection he had
said to himself that he would go on to the end. When the last hour
came, he would fly to the other end of France, erase his name from
his linen, and blow his brains out in some forest.

This hour had now come.

By contracting debts, signing bills, renewing obligations, paying
interests and compound interests, giving commissions by always
borrowing, and never paying, Hector had consumed the princely
heritage--nearly four millions in lands--which he had received
at his father's death. The winter just past had cost him fifty
thousand crowns. He had tried eight days before to borrow a hundred
thousand francs, and had failed. He had been refused, not because
his property was not as much as he owed, but because it was known
that property sold by a bankrupt does not bring its value.

Thus it was that when the valet came in and said, "The bailiff is
here," he seemed like a spectre commanding suicide.

Hector took the announcement coolly and said, as he got up:

"Well, here's an end of it."

He was very calm, though a little confused. A little confusion is
excusable when a man passes from wealth to beggary. He thought he
would make his last toilet with especial care. Parbleu! The French
nobility goes into battle in court costume! He was ready in less
than an hour. He put on his bejewelled watch-chain; then he put a
pair of little pistols, of the finest quality, in his overcoat
pocket; then he sent the valet away, and opening his desk, he
counted up what funds he had left. Ten thousand and some hundreds
of francs remained. He might with this sum take a journey, prolong
his life two or three months; but he repelled with disdain the
thought of a miserable subterfuge, of a reprieve in disguise. He
imagined that with this money he might make a great show of
generosity, which would be talked of in the world; it would be
chivalrous to breakfast with hi