d
left."

The commissary now had all the information, which, voluntarily or
otherwise, Maxence was able to give him. He rose, and in the
kindest tone,

"You have come," he said to him, "to ask me for advice. Here it is:
say nothing, and wait. Allow justice and the police to pursue their
work. Whatever may be your suspicions, hide them. I shall do for
you as I would for Lucienne, whom I love as if she were my own
child; for it so happens, that, in helping you, I shall help her."

He could not help laughing at the astonishment, which at those words
depicted itself upon Maxence's face; and gayly,

"You don't understand," he added. "Well, never mind. It is not
necessary that you should."

XXX

Two o'clock struck as Mlle. Lucienne and Maxence left the office
of the commissary of police, she pensive and agitated, he gloomy and
irritated. They reached the Hotel des Folies without exchanging a
word. Mme. Fortin was again at the door, speechifying in the midst
of a group with indefatigable volubility. Indeed, it was a perfect
godsend for her, the fact of lodging the son of that cashier who
had stolen twelve millions, and had thus suddenly become a celebrity.
Seeing Maxence and Mlle. Lucienne coming, she stepped toward them,
and, with her most obsequious smile,

"Back already?" she said.

But they made no answer; and, entering the narrow corridor, they
hurried to their fourth story. As he entered his room, Maxence
threw his hat upon his bed with a gesture of impatience; and, after
walking up and down for a moment, he returned to plant himself in
front of Mlle. Lucienne.

"Well," he said, "are you satisfied now?"

She looked at him with an air of profound commiseration, knowing
his weakness too well to be angry at his injustice.

"Of what should I be satisfied?" she asked gently.

"I have done what you wished me to."

"You did what reason dictated, my friend."

"Very well: we won't quarrel about words. I have seen your friend
the commissary. Am I any better off?"

She shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly.

"What did you expect of him, then?" she asked. "Did you think that
he could undo what is done? Did you suppose, that, by the sole
power of his will, he would make up the deficit in the Mutual
Credit's cash, and rehabilitate your father?"

"No, I am not quite mad yet."

"Well, then, could he do more than promise you his most ardent and
devoted co-operation?"

But he did not al