THE SLAVES OF PARIS. 61 ! before this bandage falls from your eyes! Can you not vet read the character of this poor, foolish boy. who lacks every manly quality— who is inflated by vanity, and has neither en- ergy or independence, will or heart?" Flavia was scarlet. _ I "Enough!" she said, interrupting him, "enough! I am not such a coward as to al- low you to insult my husband—I can and will defend him, even against my own father!" The banker's head dropped, and he turned away. He already regretted what he had said, and "he shuddered at the thought that bis words might have cost him his daughter's affection. He" hesitated as to what he had best say to ob- literate the effects of his rashness, when Horte- bise interposed. This wise doctor put his arm around Flavia's waist, and hurried her from the room. " Go, my dear child," he whispered; your father is beside himself—he knows not what he savs." . . 'And this was really the doctor's opinion. When he was alone with the banker, he said: " I cannot understand your anger. It depended on yourself entirely to break off this marriage, and you allowed it: recriminations are there- fore as unnecessary as they are unwise." Martin Regal was astonished. " You speak as if it were nothing," he said, " for me to find myself at the discretion of this miserable Paul." " Not more, it seems to me, than before your daughter's indiscretion. Is not Paul our accom- plice? What have we to fear from him? Noth- ing. He knows all the secrets of the associa- tion. Are we anv the more compromised be- cause he has penetrated the mystery of your triple personality?" "Ah! you do lot love Flavie—you are not her father—you do not realize what the conse- quences will be to ber of this revelation. Paul untii now believed tliat I did not know Masca- rot, and that I was the victim of blackmailing. There lay my strength. As a dupe he respected me, and "I managed him—as an accomplice he escape! me!" He thought for a moment, then collecting himself with the energy of despair, he added: " The evil is without remedy, and now we must at once decide on wliat we had best do. First, I think we must hasten this disastrous marriage; next, we must hurry the investigations of the Duc de Champdoce. Let us go to dinner; to-morrow I will write to Catenae" The marriage took place at the end of the next week, and Paul left his simple bachelor quarters to take possession of the magnificent suit of rooms prepared for him by the banker under his own roof. The transition was abrupt, but Paul was no longer astonished at anything. The simpleton was so imbued by the theories advanced by Mascarot and Dr. Hortebise that he was per- suaded that adventures like his own were com- mon in Paris, and that they were of every day occurrence with intelligent young men like himself, and he vaguely thought that it was an easy thing to be dishonest, and that dishonesty was more lucrative than honesty. He had not a shadow of remorse. He feared onlv one thing—that he should make some blunder when the hour arrived for that decisive scene which should give him a high social position, and the title of duke. He colored high with pleasure, however, when Martin Regal one day said to him: " Be calm and strong. To-night is the night " You need not be troubled," he answered, in a flippant way. He was not troubled. Indeed, when, in the course of the evening, the Duc de Champdoce appeared, followed by Perpignan and Catenae, the young imposter rose to the level of his mas- ters, and played his part with consummate skill. But he' might have been awkward and betrayed himself a dozen times over—the Duc de Cliampdoce would never have seen it. This man, whose life had been one series of miseries, and who had so terribly expiated the crimes of bis youth, was as if seized with ver- tigo. Had be obeyed him. Paul would have gone immediatelv and established himself with lite wife in the Hotel de Champdoce. But here Martin Regal interposed with objections. The banker was but half pleased at seeing his son in-law duc and ten times a millionaire. . He said that it was late, that the duchess could not be prepared for this great event, which would materially alter her life. etc. Finally it. was agreed that the due should com3 and breakfast" tbe next morning with Martin Regal, and that afterward he should take his son away with him. The hour of eleven was fixed, but it waslonly ten when the duc appeared in the room of the banker, where he, Catenae, Hortebise aud Paul were assembled in council. Almost on the steps of the duc came Flavia. Poor thing! she had no suspicion of the ignoble comedy that was being enacted, and since the eveninu- before the knowledge that her husband was the heir of this lofty house filled ber with joy and excitement. . She saw in the title of duchess, which would some day be hers, the full justification of her choice. , . "Now," she said to her father, whom she kept on thorns by her enthusiastic expressions of delight, "you can laugh no more at me for loving a poor Bohemian—an artist, without name or fortune—you once said, too, without talent. YTou see now that this artist, this Bo- hemian, is a Champdoce, and that his father possesses millions I" ! She entered her father's room on tiptoe, and stood near the door with a smile on ber pretty lips The Duc de Cliampdoce was sitting on the sofa by the side of the youth, whose hand j he held, and whom he believed to be his son. He was narrating his anxieties of the preced- ing night. . , , He had undertaken to prepare the mmd of ! the duchess in some degree for that immense eveut, and his words of vague hope had imper- illed her life. . . "This morning," he added, "she is better, and she hopes------" He was suddenly interrupted. On the other side of the wall, which faced the door, were heard loud and continued blows. " You seem to have noisy neighbors," said the No one answered. The wall was evidently being attacked by a pick-axe; the whole house was shaken, and the screen was thrown down. Tlie three associates looked at each other in pale consternation. It was clear to them that the bricks, erected by Mascarot and Beaumar- chef, were being torn down. But why, and for what? The absolute lack of precautions testified to the fact that people were at work who felt that they had every right to do what they pleased. The duc was amazed. The terror of the three accomplices was perfectly evident; he felt Paul's band tremble in his own, and he could not understand why blows on a party wall should cause such fright. Flavia was the only one who suspected no . evil, and it was Flavia" who said: _ " We must ascertain the reason of this noise. This simple remark broke the charm. " I will send and see," said her father. But hardly bad he opened the door than he started back with dilated eyes, and arms ex- tended, as if to ward off some terrible apparition that rose before him. In the doorway stood a most respectable- looking gentleman, wearinggold-bowed specta- cles, and behind him was a police officer, wear- ing his scarf and badge, and still further back a half dozen more. The same name leaped simultaneously to the lips of the three associates: " Monsieur Lecoq!" And at tbe same time this terrible conviction entered their brains: "We are lost!" The famous detective came slowly forward, curiously watching the strange group before him. His countenance, despite its gravity, evinced something of that intense satisfaction felt by a dramatist who sees his conceptions marve'lously well-placed upon the stage; the scene, in fact, which he has rehearsed and com- bined'in the solitude of his own room. " Ah! I was right, it seems," be said, quietly. "I felt I was not making any mistake iu tap- ping the wall on the other side; I knew 1 should come out here." But the banker by this time had regained his self-possession, at all events, in appearance. "What do you want?" he added in an arro- gant tone. " What means this violation of my privacy?" I Lecoq shrugged bis shoulders. " This gentleman will explain," he answered, showing the police officer. "But I, in tbe meantime, «.rrest you, Martin Regal, alias Tan- taine, alias Mascarot, formerly the proprietor of an intelligence office in the Rue Montorgueil. " I do not understand." "Indeed' Do you think that Tantaine has so thoroughly washed his hands that not one drop of Andre's blood clings to the fingers of Martin Regal?" " Upon my life, I do not comprehend. Lecoq smiled blandly, and drawing from his pocket a letter, delicately folded, he said: " You probably are familiar with your daughter's handwriting. Well, then, listen to what she wrote, not a month ago, lo Monsieur Paul, here present. " Dkab Friend—We should be monsters of ingratitude if------" "Enough!" interrupted the banker, in a hoarse voice. And having no longer strength to struggle against a strange feeling of oppression and dizziness, be sank on a chair, murmuring: "Lost! lost! Lost by my child! by Fla- via!" Of these three accomplices, m temperament and character so widely different, the calmest now was he who in general was the most readily alarmed—the smiling Dr. Hortebise When be recognized Lecoq, the gallant doc- tor had quietly taken from the medallion which dangled on his watch chain, a small stone of gray paste, which he held in the hollow of bis hand. _ , With his eyes fixed on Martin Regal he waited until this chief, who had so many re- sources, should declare that all hope was over. In the meantime, Lecoq turned toward Cat- enae. ... "And you, too," he said; ' I arrest you in the name of the law!" "I?" " Are you not Catenae, the lawyer?" Perhaps it was because he was a lawyer that Catenae deigned to make no reply to Monsieur Lecoq: to tlie police officer he said, however. " I am tbe victim, sir, of a most disagreeable mistake; but I enjoy sufficient consideration, I fancy, in the courts, for you to feel no hésita tion------" . . " The order of arrest," said the man, is in regular form. I can show it to you, sir, if you choose." .„ , "Oh, no, itis not worth while. I will merely beg you to take me at once to the magistrate who signed it. In five minutes it will be all right." " Do you think that?" asked Monsieur Lecoq, in a bantering tone. " You are ignorant, I see, of an event that took place day before yes terday—an event which put the Commune La Varenne into a state of wild commotion. Some unknown laborer, digging, found tlie body of a new-born child wrapped in a silk handkerchief and an old shawl. The police lost no time, of course, and they already have the mother, a girl named Clarisse." If Lecoq had not held him the lawyer would have flown at Martin Regal's throat. " Scoundrel !" he yelled. " Traitor! Coward! You have sold me------" "Ah!" stammered the banker; "my papers have been stolen." He saw, now, that the blows struck on the other side of the wall were but a ruse. Lecoq had thought it advisable to give them a fright first, hoping in that way to find them amenable to reason. Hortebise looked on calmly. Yes, the game was lost; he smiled no more. "I have honest relatives who bear my name," he thought. "I will not dishonor them. There is no time to lose." And he swallowed the contents of his medallion, saying half aloud and half to him- self: "At my age, with such a digestion, never was I in better health !" No one had noticed the doctor. Lecoq had moved the screen, and then showed the police officer where a hole had been made large enough for a man to slip through. But a sudden noise cut these explanations short. Poor Hortebise had fallen to the floor in terrible convulsions. "How stupid!" exclaimed Lecoq—"how stupid in me not to have foreseen this! He has taken r>oison! Run for a doctor! Put him on abed!" While these order were being hastily obeyed, tbe doctor and Catenae were taken down to the fiacre, which awaited them in the street. Martin Regal seemed to be struck by imbe- cility. The tenor of that strongly constituted mind had given way under this mortal an- guish.