allier, who had been a widower for several years past, was one
of the most respected business-men of Paris, the owner of a foundry, a
judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, and an officer of the Legion of
Honour. He had two sons: Camille, the lieutenant: and August, an artist
of some originality, who was the husband of a charming wife, and the
father of a little six-year-old maiden named Andree. Mons. Sauvallier
had always deterred his sons from embarking in trade. He had shrunk from
exposing them to the ups and downs of business life, its trying
fluctuations, its frequent cruel mischances. He had arranged that at his
death his estate should be realized: he did not wish the business to be
sold outright, in case it should pass into the hands of strangers who
might sully the hitherto unblemished name of Sauvallier.

And now, in spite of all his precautions, a disaster greater than any he
had dreamed of had overwhelmed him.

[Illustration: "HE ROSE WITH DIFFICULTY."]

Leaning back wearily in his arm-chair, with haggard eyes he re-read his
son's letter, in order to assure himself that he was not dreaming. Yes!
It was too true! Camille had ruined, perhaps dishonoured, him! It
seemed as though the objects that surrounded him--the very walls and
furniture--were no longer the same! As one staggering beneath a too
heavy burden, he rose with difficulty, his limbs stiff, yet his whole
frame agitated; then he sank back into his chair, with two big tears
flowing down his cheeks.

By hook or by crook he _must_ procure the sum, and the debt should be
paid to-morrow. It would be a difficult task. The wealth of the
manufacturer consists of material and merchandise. Would so hurried a
realization yield the necessary amount? He could not tell. Again, when
this debt was paid, would he be able to fulfil his engagements?
Bankruptcy stared him in the face. A Sauvallier bankrupt? An officer of
the Legion of Honour, a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, insolvent?
Never! He would die first!

But before it came to that, he would try every expedient: he would
strain every nerve.

So all night long the poor man planned and calculated, and in the
morning, with heavy heart, proceeded to put his plans into effect.

He visited his numerous friends and told them of his trouble, which
elicited much sympathy. In order to help, some made large purchases of
him, paying ready money, others advanced or lent him money. All day
until the evening he was runn