porting journals as record the victories or
defeats of the animals he has purchased. A gentleman is not so exacting
generally. It is true, however, that I have a foreigner to deal
with--one of those half-civilized nabobs who come here every year to
astonish the Parisians with their wealth and display, and who, by their
idiotic prodigality, have so increased the price of everything that life
has become well-nigh an impossibility to such of us as don't care to
squander an entire fortune in a couple of years. These folks are the
curse of Paris, for, with but few exceptions, they only use their
millions to enrich notorious women, scoundrels, hotel-keepers, and
jockeys."

Pascal at once thought of the foreigner, Kami-Bey, whom he had met at
Baron Trigault's half an hour before, and who had complained so bitterly
of having had worthless scrubs palmed off upon him when he fancied
he had purchased valuable animals. "Kami-Bey must be this exacting
purchaser," thought Pascal, "and it's probable that the marquis,
desperately straitened as he is, has committed one of those frauds
which lead their perpetrator to prison?" The surmise was by no means
far-fetched, for in sporting matters, at least, there was cause to
suspect Valorsay of great elasticity of conscience. Had he not already
been accused of defrauding Domingo's champions by a conspiracy?

At last the marquis heaved a sigh of relief. "I've finished," he
muttered, as he tied up the bundle of papers he had laid aside, and
after ringing the bell, he said to the servant who answered the summons:
"Here, take this package to Prince Kami at the Grand Hotel."

Pascal's presentiments had not deceived him, and he said to himself:
"This is a good thing to know. Before this evening I shall look into
this affair a little."

A storm was decidedly gathering over the Marquis de Valorsay's head. Did
he know it? Certainly he must have expected it. Still he had sworn to
stand fast until the end. Besides, he would not concede that all was
lost; and, like most great gamblers, he told himself that since he
had so much at stake, he might reasonably hope to succeed. He rose,
stretched himself, as a man is apt to do after the conclusion of a
tiresome task, and then, leaning against the mantel-shelf, he exclaimed:
"Now, Monsieur Maumejan, let us speak of the business that brings you
here." His negligent attitude and his careless tone were admirably
assumed, but a shrewd observer would not have be