“On the night of which I have spoken, I and my friends released ourselves from all the bonds of virtue and honor, and freed ourselves from all the fetters of duty to our fellow-men.  The plan emanated from my brain complete in all its details in the will I made twenty years ago to my friends.  Marquis, as the summer goes on, you know that the ripest and reddest cherries are the fullest flavored, just so, in the noblest and wealthiest of families in Paris there is not one that has not some terrible and ghostly secret which is sedulously concealed.  Now, suppose that one man should gain possession of all of them, would he not be sole and absolute master?  Would he not be more powerful than a despot on his throne?  Would he not be able to sway society in any manner he might think fit?  Well, I said to myself, I will be that man!”

Ever since the Marquis had been in relation with Mascarin, he had shrewdly suspected that his business was not conducted on really fair principles.

“What you mention,” said he, “is nothing but an elaborate and extended system of blackmail.”

Mascarin bowed low, with an ironical smile on his face.  “Just so, Marquis, just so; you have hit on the very name.  The word is modern, but the operation doubtless dates from the earliest ages.  The day upon which one man began to trade upon the guilty secret of another was the date of the institution of this line of business.  If antiquity makes a thing respectable, then blackmailing is worthy of great respect.”

“But, sir,” said the Marquis, with a flush upon his face, “but, sir—­”

“Pshaw!” broke in Mascarin, “does a mere word frighten you?  Who has not done some of it in his time?  Why, look at yourself.  Do you not recollect this winter that you detected a young man cheating at cards?  You said nothing to him at the time, but you found out that he was rich, and, calling upon him the next day, borrowed ten thousand francs.  When do you intend to repay that loan?”

Croisenois sank back in his chair, overcome with surprise at this display of knowledge on Mascarin’s part.  “This is too terrible,” muttered he, but Mascarin went on,—­

“I know, at least, two thousand persons in Paris who only exist by the exercise of this profession; for I have studied them all, from the convict who screws money out of his former companions, in penal servitude, to the titled villain, who, having discovered the frailty of some unhappy woman, forces her to give him her daughter as his wife.  I know a mere messenger in the Rue Douai, who in five years amassed a comfortable fortune.  Can you guess how?  When he was intrusted with a letter, he invariably opened it, and made himself master of its contents, and if there was a compromising word in it, he pounced down upon either the writer or the person to whom it was addressed.  I also know of one large limited company which pays an annual income to a scoundrel with half a dozen foreign orders, who has found out that they have broken their statues of association, and holds proofs of their having done so.  But the police are on the alert, and our courts deal very severely with blackmailers.”