ued,
only to have something to do. With grim sarcasm he called himself
the galley-slave of pleasure. And notwithstanding all these consuming
excesses, he asserted that he could not render his imagination barren.
Amid the greatest follies at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in
the excitement of the dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made
prodigious discoveries.

And as Marechal ventured a timid "Oh!" tinged with incredulity, Savinien
flew into a passion. Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw
fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very
unjust. Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty.

Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation
his ambitious projects. He scrutinized that flat forehead within which
the dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden. He measured that slim
form bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being
could struggle against the difficulties of business. A smile played on
his lips. He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey
to one of those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds
were low.

On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had
longings for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: "How
much?" Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent
to renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected
enterprise. At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well
lined, nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses,
fashionable restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of
pleasure.

"And Pierre?" asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the
subject. "Have you any news of him?"

Marechal became serious. A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he
gravely answered Savinien's question.

Pierre was still in the East. He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast
of which he was exploring. It was a question of the formation of
an island sea by taking the water through the desert. It would be a
colossal undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as
regarded Algeria. The climate would be completely changed, and the value
of the colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the
most fertile country in the world. Pierre had been occupied in this
undertaking for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far