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The manager of "The Pilot" shrugged his shoulders. "That youshould say so to the commissary of police, to the judges, and toall Favoral's enemies, I understand: it is your duty. That theyshould believe you, I understand too; for, after all, what dothey care? But to me, a friend, though you may not think so, andwho has reasons not to be credulous""I swear to you that we have no idea where he has taken refuge."Maxence said this with such an accent of sincerity, that doubt wasno longer possible. M. Saint Pavin's features expressed the utmostsurprise.

"What!" he exclaimed, "your father has gone without securing themeans of hearing from his family?""Yes.""Without saying a word of his intentions to your mother, or yoursister, or yourself?""Without one word.

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"Without leaving any money, perhaps?""We found only an insignificant sum after he left." The editor of"The Pilot" made a gesture of ironical admiration. "Well, thething is complete," he said; "and Vincent is a smarter fellow thanI gave him credit for; or else he must have cared more for thoseinfernal women of his than any one supposed."M. de Traggers, who had remained hitherto silent, now steppedforward.

"What women?" he asked.

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"How do I know?" he replied roughly. "How could any one ever findout any thing about a man who was more hermetically shut up in hiscoat than a Jesuit in his gown?""M. Costeclar -""That's another nice bird! Still he may possibly have discoveredsomething of Vincent's life; for he led him a pretty dance.

Wasn't he about to marry Mlle. Favoral once?""Yes, in spite of herself even.""Then you are right: he had discovered something. But, if you relyon him to tell you anything whatever, you are reckoning withoutyour host.""Who knows?" murmured M. de Traggers.

But M. Saint Pavin heard him not. Prey to a violent agitation, hewas pacing up and down the room.

"Ah, those men of cold appearance," he growled, "those men withdiscreet countenance, those close-shaving calculators, thosemoralists! What fools they do make of themselves when oncestarted! Who can imagine to what insane extremities this onemay have been driven under the spur of some mad passion!"And stamping violently his foot upon the carpet, from which aroseclouds of dust,"And yet," he swore, "I must find him. And, by thunder! whereverhe may be hid, I shall find him."M. de Traggers was watching M. Saint Pavin with a scrutinizing eye.

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"You have a great interest in finding him, then?" he said.

The other stopped short.

"I have the interest," he replied, "of a man who thought himselfshrewd, and who has been taken in like a child, - of a man to whomthey had promised wonders, and who finds his situation imperilled,- of a man who is tired of working for a band of brigands who heapmillions upon millions, and to whom, for all reward, they offerthe police-court and a retreat in the State Prison for his old age,-in a word, the interests of a man who will and shall have revenge,by all that is holy!""On whom?""On the Baron de Thaller, sir! How, in the world, has he beenable to compel Favoral to assume the responsibility of all, andto disappear? What enormous sum has he given to him?""Sir," interrupted Maxence, "my father went off without a sou."M. Saint Pavin burst out in a loud laugh.

"And the twelve millions?" he asked. "What has become of them?