stand
the consequences. He left me for that purpose. As I walked into the
dining-room, I saw the dear "child" Bertrand leaning over the bar
quaffing a glass of absinthe. When he saw me he gulped down the drink
and said:

"Mamma would like to speak to you--she thought you would have
called."

I recalled the adventure with the eyes and hesitated. Then I decided
to go to room 12 on the second flat and see the thing out. A knock on
the door was responded to by a sweet "Come in." Mme. Fabre was seated
in an easy chair before a cheerful coal fire.

She arose at once and extended a plump and white hand. As we seated
ourselves she flashed those burning eyes upon me and said:

"I am so glad you have come! I do want your advice about my mining
venture. In the first place I may tell you that I have found the man
who owns the shares. He is here in Victoria with his family. He is
desperately poor. A hundred dollars if offered would be a great
temptation. I would give more--five hundred if necessary."

"The property you told me of the other day is valuable, is it not?" I
asked.

"Yes--that is to say, we think it is. You know that mining is the
most uncertain of all ventures. You may imagine you are rich one day
and the next you find yourself broke. It was so with my husband. He
came home one day and said, 'We are rich'; and the next he said, 'We
are poor.' This Maloney mine looks well, but who can be sure?
When I came here I thought that if I found the man with the shares I
could get them for a song. I may yet, but my dear child tells me that
he has seen here a man from Grass Valley named Barclay who is a
friend of that shareholder, and," she added, bitterly, "perhaps he
has got ahead of me. I must see the man at once and make him an
offer. What do you think?"

"I think you might as well save yourself further trouble. By this
time the shareholder has been apprised of his good fortune."

"What!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet and transfixing me with
her eyes. "Am I, then, too late?"

"Yes," I said, "you are too late. Forbes--that is the man's
name--knows of his good fortune and I do not believe he would sell
now at any price."

The woman gazed at me with the concentrated hate of a thousand
furies. Her great eyes no longer bore an expression of pleading
tenderness--they seemed to glint and expand and to shoot fierce
flames from their depths. They no longer charmed, they terrified me!
How I wished I had left the do