M. d'Aubray reached Paris. All had taken place as the marquise
desired; for the scene was now changed: the doctor who had witnessed the
symptoms would not be present at the death; no one could discover
the cause by studying the progress of the disorder; the thread of
investigation was snapped in two, and the two ends were now too distant
to be joined again. In spite, of every possible attention, M. d'Aubray
grew continually worse; the marquise was faithful to her mission, and
never left him for an hour. At list, after four days of agony, he died
in his daughter's arms, blessing the woman who was his murderess. Her
grief then broke forth uncontrolled. Her sobs and tears were so vehement
that her brothers' grief seemed cold beside hers. Nobody suspected
a crime, so no autopsy was held; the tomb was closed, and not the
slightest suspicion had approached her.

But the marquise had only gained half her purpose. She had now more
freedom for her love affairs, but her father's dispositions were not so
favourable as she expected: the greater part of his property, together
with his business, passed to the elder brother and to the second
brother, who was Parliamentary councillor; the position of, the marquise
was very little improved in point of fortune.

Sainte-Croix was leading a fine and joyous life. Although nobody
supposed him to be wealthy, he had a steward called Martin, three
lackeys called George, Lapierre, and Lachaussee, and besides his coach
and other carriages he kept ordinary bearers for excursions at night.
As he was young and good-looking, nobody troubled about where all
these luxuries came from. It was quite the custom in those days that a
well-set-up young gentleman should want for nothing, and Sainte-Croix
was commonly said to have found the philosopher's stone. In his life in
the world he had formed friendships with various persons, some noble,
some rich: among the latter was a man named Reich de Penautier,
receiver-general of the clergy and treasurer of the States of Languedoc,
a millionaire, and one of those men who are always successful, and
who seem able by the help of their money to arrange matters that would
appear to be in the province of God alone. This Penautier was connected
in business with a man called d'Alibert, his first clerk, who died all
of a sudden of apoplexy. The attack was known to Penautier sooner than
to his own family: then the papers about the conditions of partnership
disappeared, no