acting my agony," he stammered. "What
do you ask of me?"

"You must fly," declared M. Desclavettes.

"Which way? How? Do you not think that every precaution has been
taken, that every issue is closely watched?"

Maxence interrupted him with a gesture:

"The windows in sister's room, father," said he, "open upon the
courtyard of the adjoining house."

"Yes; but here we are up two pairs of stairs."

"No matter: I have a way."

And turning towards his sister:

"Come, Gilberte," went on the young man, "give me a light, and let
me have some sheets."

They went out hurriedly. Mme. Favoral felt a gleam of hope.

"We are saved!" she said.

"Saved!" repeated the cashier mechanically. "Yes; for I guess
Maxence's idea. But we must have an understanding. Where will you
take refuge?"

"How can I tell?"

"There is a train at five minutes past eleven," remarked M.
Desormeaux. "Don't let us forget that."

"But money will be required to leave by that train," interrupted the
old lawyer. "Fortunately, I have some."

And, forgetting his hundred and sixty thousand francs lost, he took
out his pocket-book. Mme. Favoral stopped him. "We have more than
we need," said she.

She took from the table, and held out to her husband, the roll of
bank notes which the director of the Mutual Credit Society had thrown
down before going.

He refused them with a gesture of rage.

"Rather starve to death!" he exclaimed. "'Tis he, 'tis that wretch--"
But he interrupted himself, and more gently:

"Put away those bank-bills," said he to his wife, "and let Maxence
take them back to M. de Thaller to-morrow."

The bell rang violently.

"The police!" groaned Mme. Desclavettes, who seemed on the point of
fainting away.

"I am going to negotiate," said M. Desormeaux. "Fly, Vincent: do
not lose a minute."

And he ran to the front-door, whilst Mme. Favoral was hurrying her
husband towards Mlle. Gilberte's room.

Rapidly and stoutly Maxence had fastened four sheets together by the
ends, which gave a more than sufficient length. Then, opening the
window, he examined carefully the courtyard of the adjoining house.

"No one," said he: "everybody is at dinner. We'll succeed."

M. Favoral was tottering like a drunken man. A terrible emotion
convulsed his features. Casting a long look upon his wife and
children:

"O Lord!" he murmured, "what will become of you?"

"Fear nothing, father," uttered Maxence. "I am here. Ne