ng else on earth worth a man's consideration. In the
heat of argument he lowered his voice, and was no longer his open,
genial self.

What astonished me most, however, was the facility with which the
Baron made a catspaw of him. For the old Vicomte slowly stepped down
as it were from his high standpoint of indifference, and allowed
himself to be interested in the financier's schemes. It was out of
keeping with the attitude which my patron had assumed a few days
earlier at the meeting which we had attended, and I was more than ever
convinced that the Vicomte was too old and too simple to hold his own
in a world of scoundrels.

The Baron led him on from one admission to another, and at last it was
settled that twenty millions of francs were to be brought to the Hotel
Clericy and placed in the Vicomte's keeping. To my mind the worst part
of the transaction lay in the fact that the financier had succeeded in
saddling my patron with a certain moral responsibility which the old
man was in no way called upon to assume.

"Then," he said, "I may safely leave the matter thus in your hands? I
may sleep to-night?"

"Ah!" replied the other. "Yes--you may sleep, my friend."

"And Monsieur shares the responsibility?" added the upstart, turning
to me.

"Of course--for all I am worth," was my reply, and I did not at the
time think that even the Vicomte, whose faculties were keener in such
matters, saw the sarcasm intended by the words.

"Then I am satisfied," the Baron was kind enough to say; and I thought
that his low origin came suddenly to the fore in the manner in which
he bowed. A low origin is like an hereditary disease--it will bear no
strain.

"By the way," he said, pausing near the door, having risen to go, "you
have not told me the name of your trusted messenger."

And before the Vicomte opened his lips the answer flashed across my
mind.

"Charles Miste," he said.

Chapter X

The Golden Spoon

"Nous avons tous assez de force pour supporter les maux
d'autrui."

A few days later I received a letter from Madame de Clericy. "I
write," it ran, "to tell you of the satisfaction that Lucille and I
have found in the improvements you initiated here. I laugh--mon
ami--when I think of all that you did in three days. It seems as if a
strong and energetic wind--such as I imagine your English breezes to
be--had blown across my old home, leaving it healthier, purer, better;
leaving also those within it s