ssing convulsively the hands of his
brother-in-law. "Shall I let you pay the ransom for my madness and folly?
Shall I a second time despoil my sister, already robbed by me of one half
her rightful share? I should die of shame! Or, rather--wait a moment! Let
us reverse our situations for an instant, and if you will swear to me
that, were you in my place, you would accept--Ah, you see! You hesitate
as much now as you hesitated little a moment ago in your simple and
cordial burst of generosity: Consequently, I refuse!"

"What do you mean to do, then?"

"To sell Prerolles immediately-to-day, if possible. This determination
troubles you because of the grief it will cause Jeanne. It will grieve
me, too. And the courage to tell this to her is the only effort to which
my strength is unequal. Only you can tell it in such a way as to soften
the blow--"

"I will try to do it," said the Duke.

"I thank you! As to the personal belongings and the family portraits,
their place is at Montgeron, is it not?"

"That is understood. Now, one word more, Henri."

"Speak!"

"Have you not another embarrassment to settle?"

"I have indeed, and the sooner the better. Unhappily--"

"You have not enough money," finished the Duke. "I have received this
morning twenty-five thousand francs' rent from my farms. Will you allow
me to lend them to you?"

"To be repaid from the price of the sale? Very willingly, this time."

And he placed in an envelope the notes handed him by his brother-in-law.

"This is the last will and testament of love," said the Marquis, as he
departed, to give the necessary instructions to his notary.

CHAPTER VI

THE FAREWELL

His debts were easily reckoned. He owed eight hundred thousand francs to
the Credit Foncier; four hundred thousand to Paul Landry; more than one
hundred thousand to various jewellers and shopkeepers; twenty-five
thousand to the Duc de Montgeron. It was necessary to sell the chateau
and the property at one million four hundred thousand francs, and the
posters advertising the sale must be displayed without delay.

Then he must say farewell to Fanny Dorville. Nothing should disturb a
sensible mind; the man who, with so much resolution, deprives himself of
his patrimonial estates should not meet less bravely the separation
imposed by necessity.

As soon as Henri appeared in Fanny's boudoir, she divined that her
presentiments of the previous night had not deceived her.

"You have lost