baron sneered. "You certainly must think me a much greater fool than
I really am!" he replied. "I'm not often at home, it's true--the sight
of you exasperates me; but I know what's going on. You believe me your
dupe, but you are altogether mistaken. It is not twenty-seven thousand
francs you owe Van Klopen, but fifty or sixty thousand. However, he is
careful not to demand payment. If he brought me a bill this morning, it
was only because you had begged him to do so, and because it had been
agreed he should give you the money back if I paid him. In short, if you
require twenty-eight thousand francs before to-night, it is because M.
Fernand de Coralth has demanded that sum, and because you have promised
to give it to him!"

Leaning against the wall of the smoking-room, speechless and motionless,
holding his breath, with his hands pressed upon his heart, as if to
stop its throbbings, Pascal Ferailleur listened. He no longer thought
of flying; he no longer thought of reproaching himself for his enforced
indiscretion. He had lost all consciousness of his position. The name of
the Viscount de Coralth, thus mentioned in the course of this frightful
scene, came as a revelation to him. He now understood the meaning of the
baron's conduct. His visit to the Rue d'Ulm, and his promises of help
were all explained. "My mother was right," he thought; "the baron hates
that miserable viscount mortally. He will do all in his power to assist
me."

Meanwhile, the baroness energetically denied her husband's charges. She
swore that she did not know what he meant. What had M. de Coralth to
do with all this? She commanded her husband to speak more plainly--to
explain his odious insinuations.

He allowed her to speak for a moment, and then suddenly, in a harsh,
sarcastic voice, he interrupted her by saying: "Oh! enough! No more
hypocrisy! Why do you try to defend yourself? What matters one crime
more? I know only too well that what I say is true; and if you desire
proofs, they shall be in your hands in less than half an hour. It is a
long time since I was blind--full twenty years! Nothing concerning you
has escaped my knowledge and observation since the cursed day when I
discovered the depths of your disgrace and infamy--since the terrible
evening when I heard you plan to murder me in cold blood. You had grown
accustomed to freedom of action; while I, who had gone off with the
first gold-seekers, was braving a thousand dangers in California,