er
husband alarmed Juana more than his gloomiest expressions of anxiety
when, by chance, he forgot that assumption of joy. Diard feared his wife
as a criminal fears the executioner. In him, Juana saw her children's
shame; and in her Diard dreaded a calm vengeance, the judgment of that
serene brow, an arm raised, a weapon ready.

After fifteen years of marriage Diard found himself without resources.
He owed three hundred thousand francs and he could scarcely muster one
hundred thousand. The house, his only visible possession, was mortgaged
to its fullest selling value. A few days more, and the sort of prestige
with which opulence had invested him would vanish. Not a hand would be
offered, not a purse would be open to him. Unless some favorable event
occurred he would fall into a slough of contempt, deeper perhaps than
he deserved, precisely because he had mounted to a height he could
not maintain. At this juncture he happened to hear that a number of
strangers of distinction, diplomats and others, were assembled at the
watering-places in the Pyrenees, where they gambled for enormous sums,
and were doubtless well supplied with money.

He determined to go at once to the Pyrenees; but he would not leave his
wife in Paris, lest some importunate creditor might reveal to her the
secret of his horrible position. He therefore took her and the two
children with him, refusing to allow her to take the tutor and scarcely
permitting her to take a maid. His tone was curt and imperious; he
seemed to have recovered some energy. This sudden journey, the cause of
which escaped her penetration, alarmed Juana secretly. Her husband made
it gaily. Obliged to occupy the same carriage, he showed himself day
by day more attentive to the children and more amiable to their
mother. Nevertheless, each day brought Juana dark presentiments, the
presentiments of mothers who tremble without apparent reason, but who
are seldom mistaken when they tremble thus. For them the veil of the
future seems thinner than for others.

At Bordeaux, Diard hired in a quiet street a quiet little house, neatly
furnished, and in it he established his wife. The house was at the
corner of two streets, and had a garden. Joined to the neighboring house
on one side only, it was open to view and accessible on the other three
sides. Diard paid the rent in advance, and left Juana barely enough
money for the necessary expenses of three months, a sum not exceeding
a thousand fran