“What does it matter?”

M. Chapelain shrugged his shoulders.

“If you were alone,” he went on, “I would say as you do, ’What does it matter?’ But you are no longer alone:  you have your mother and sister to take care of.  You must think of food before thinking of vengeance.  How much a month do you earn?  Two hundred francs!  It is not much for three persons.  I would never suggest that you should solicit M. de Thaller’s protection; but it would be well, perhaps, to let him know that he has nothing to fear from you.  Why shouldn’t you do so when you take his fifteen thousand francs back to him?  If, as every thing indicates, he has been your father’s accomplice, he will certainly be touched by the distress of your family, and, if he has any heart left, he will manage to make you find, without appearing to have any thing to do with it, a situation better suited to your wants.  I know that such a step must be very painful; but I repeat it, my dear child, you can no longer think of yourself alone; and what one would not do for himself, one does for a mother and a sister.”

Maxence said nothing.  Not that he was in any way affected by the worthy old lawyer’s speech; but he was asking himself whether or not he should confide to him the events which in the past twenty-four hours had so suddenly modified the situation.  He did not feel authorized to do so.

Marius de Tregars had not bound him to secrecy; but an indiscretion might have fatal consequences.  And, after a moment of thought,

“I am obliged to you, sir,” he replied evasively, “for the interest you have manifested in our welfare; and we shall always greatly prize your advice.  But for the present you must allow me to leave you with my mother and sister.  I have an appointment with—­a friend.”

And, without waiting for an answer, he slipped M. de Thaller’s fifteen thousand francs in his pocket, and hurried out.  It was not to M. de Tregars that he went first, however, but to the Hotel des Folies.

“Mlle. Lucienne has just come home with a big bundle,” said Mme. Fortin to Maxence, with her pleasantest smile, as soon as she had seen him emerge from the shades of the corridor.

For the past twenty-four hours, the worthy hostess had been watching for her guest, in the hopes of obtaining some information which she might communicate to the neighbors.  Without even condescending to answer, a piece of rudeness at which she felt much hurt, he crossed the narrow court of the hotel at a bound, and started up stairs.

Mlle. Lucienne’s room was open.  He walked in, and, still out of breath from his rapid ascension,

“I am glad to find you in,” he exclaimed.  The young girl was busy, arranging upon her bed a dress of very light colored silk, trimmed with ruches and lace, an overdress to match, and a bonnet of wonderful shape, loaded with the most brilliant feathers and flowers.