r hands at
once."

"What, though payable at Rome?"

"Certainly; it will only cost you a discount of 5,000 or 6,000 francs."
The receiver started back. "Ma foi," he said, "I prefer waiting till
to-morrow. What a proposition!"

"I thought, perhaps," said Danglars with supreme impertinence, "that you
had a deficiency to make up?"

"Indeed," said the receiver.

"And if that were the case it would be worth while to make some
sacrifice."

"Thank you, no, sir."

"Then it will be to-morrow."

"Yes; but without fail."

"Ah, you are laughing at me; send to-morrow at twelve, and the bank
shall be notified."

"I will come myself."

"Better still, since it will afford me the pleasure of seeing you." They
shook hands. "By the way," said M. de Boville, "are you not going to the
funeral of poor Mademoiselle de Villefort, which I met on my road here?"

"No," said the banker; "I have appeared rather ridiculous since that
affair of Benedetto, so I remain in the background."

"Bah, you are wrong. How were you to blame in that affair?"

"Listen--when one bears an irreproachable name, as I do, one is rather
sensitive."

"Everybody pities you, sir; and, above all, Mademoiselle Danglars!"

"Poor Eugenie!" said Danglars; "do you know she is going to embrace a
religious life?"

"No."

"Alas, it is unhappily but too true. The day after the event, she
decided on leaving Paris with a nun of her acquaintance; they are gone
to seek a very strict convent in Italy or Spain."

"Oh, it is terrible!" and M. de Boville retired with this exclamation,
after expressing acute sympathy with the father. But he had scarcely
left before Danglars, with an energy of action those can alone
understand who have seen Robert Macaire represented by Frederic, [*]
exclaimed,--"Fool!" Then enclosing Monte Cristo's receipt in a little
pocket-book, he added:--"Yes, come at twelve o'clock; I shall then be
far away." Then he double-locked his door, emptied all his drawers,
collected about fifty thousand francs in bank-notes, burned several
papers, left others exposed to view, and then commenced writing a letter
which he addressed:

"To Madame la Baronne Danglars."

* Frederic Lemaitre--French actor (1800-1876). Robert
Macaire is the hero of two favorite melodramas--"Chien de
Montargis" and "Chien d'Aubry"--and the name is applied to
bold criminals as a term of derision.

"I will place it on her table myself to-night," he murmur