“And if it has fallen so ill,” said Lady Catharine, “since I have not speculated in these things like most folk, I shall be none the worse for it, and shall still have money to pay your wages.  So perhaps you can marry your marquis after all.”

“But we shall not be rich, Madame!  We are ruined, ruined! Mon Dieu! we poor folk!  We had the hope to be persons of quality.  ’Tis all the work of this villain Jean L’as.  May the Bastille get him, or the people, and make him pay for this!”

“Stop!  Enough of this, Marie!” said the Lady Catharine, sternly.  “After this have better wisdom, and do not meddle in things which you do not understand.”

Yet scarce had the girl departed before there appeared again the sound of running steps, and presently there broke, equally unannounced, into the presence of his mistress, the coachman, fresh from his stables and none too careful of his garb.  Tears ran down his cheeks.  He flung out his hands with gestures as of one demented.

“The news!” cried he.  “The news, my Lady!  The horrible news!  The System has vanished, the shares are going down!”

“Fellow, what do you here?” said Lady Catharine.  “Why do you come with this same story which Marie has just brought to me?  Can you not learn your place?”

“But, my Lady, you do not understand!” reiterated the man, blankly.  “’Tis all over.  There is no Messasebe; there is no longer any System, no longer any Company of the Indies.  There is no longer wealth for the stretching out of the hand.  ’Tis all over.  I must go back to horses—­I, Madame, who should presently have associated with the nobility!”

“Well, and if so,” replied his mistress, “I can say to you, as I have to Marie, that there will still be money for your wages.”

“Wages!  My faith, what trifles, my Lady!  This Monsieur L’as, the director-general, he it is who has ruined us!  Well enough it is that the square in front of his hotel is filled with people!  Presently they will break down his doors.  And then, pray God they punish him for this that he has done!”

The cheek of Lady Catharine paled and a sudden flood of contending emotions crossed her mind.  “You do not tellme that Monsieur L’as is in danger, Pierre?” said she.

“Assuredly.  Perhaps within the very hour they will tear down his doors and rend him limb from limb.  There is no punishment which can serve him right—­him who has ruined our pretty, pretty System. Mon Dieu!  It was so beautiful!”

“Is this news certain?”

“Assuredly, most certain.  Why should it not be?  The entire square in front of the Hotel de Soisson is packed.  Unless my Lady needs me, I myself must hasten thither to aid in the punishment of this Jean L’as!”

“You will stay here,” said Lady Catharine.  “Wait!  There may be need!  For the present, go!”