ssor, to the employee who keeps his rival out of
a place. Now, in the event of the king's death, his successor inherits a
crown,--when the employee dies, the supernumerary steps into his shoes,
and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres. Well, these twelve
thousand livres are his civil list, and are as essential to him as the
twelve millions of a king. Every one, from the highest to the lowest
degree, has his place on the social ladder, and is beset by stormy
passions and conflicting interests, as in Descartes' theory of pressure
and impulsion. But these forces increase as we go higher, so that we
have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on
the base. Now let us return to your particular world. You say you were
on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?"

"Yes."

"And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?"

"Yes."

"Now, could any one have had any interest in preventing the
accomplishment of these two things? But let us first settle the question
as to its being the interest of any one to hinder you from being captain
of the Pharaon. What say you?"

"I cannot believe such was the case. I was generally liked on board, and
had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves, I
feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me. There was only one
person among the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. I had
quarelled with him some time previously, and had even challenged him to
fight me; but he refused."

"Now we are getting on. And what was this man's name?"

"Danglars."

"What rank did he hold on board?"

"He was supercargo."

"And had you been captain, should you have retained him in his
employment?"

"Not if the choice had remained with me, for I had frequently observed
inaccuracies in his accounts."

"Good again! Now then, tell me, was any person present during your last
conversation with Captain Leclere?"

"No; we were quite alone."

"Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?"

"It might, for the cabin door was open--and--stay; now I
recollect,--Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was
giving me the packet for the grand marshal."

"That's better," cried the abbe; "now we are on the right scent. Did you
take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?"

"Nobody."

"Somebody there received your packet, and gave you a letter in place of
it, I think?"

"Yes; the grand m