“Madame Risler!”

She had run quickly to him, and that brief scene had in no wise disturbed the guests, then at the height of the evening’s enjoyment.  When she saw her husband standing in front of the desk, the drawers broken open and overturned on the carpet with the multitude of trifles they contained, she realized that something terrible was taking place.

“Come at once,” said Risler; “I know all.”

She tried to assume an innocent, dignified attitude; but he seized her by the arm with such force that Frantz’s words came to her mind:  “It will kill him perhaps, but he will kill you first.”  As she was afraid of death, she allowed herself to be led away without resistance, and had not even the strength to lie.

“Where are we going?” she asked, in a low voice.

Risler did not answer.  She had only time to throw over her shoulders, with the care for herself that never failed her, a light tulle veil, and he dragged her, pushed her, rather, down the stairs leading to the counting-room, which he descended at the same time, his steps close upon hers, fearing that his prey would escape.

“There!” he said, as he entered the room.  “We have stolen, we make restitution.  Look, Planus, you can raise money with all this stuff.”  And he placed on the cashier’s desk all the fashionable plunder with which his arms were filled—­feminine trinkets, trivial aids to coquetry, stamped papers.

Then he turned to his wife: 

“Take off your jewels!  Come, be quick.”

She complied slowly, opened reluctantly the clasps of bracelets and buckles, and above all the superb fastening of her diamond necklace on which the initial of her name-a gleaming S-resembled a sleeping serpent, imprisoned in a circle of gold.  Risler, thinking that she was too slow, ruthlessly broke, the fragile fastenings.  Luxury shrieked beneath his fingers, as if it were being whipped.

“Now it is my turn,” he said; “I too must give up everything.  Here is my portfolio.  What else have I?  What else have I?”

He searched his pockets feverishly.

“Ah! my watch.  With the chain it will bring four-thousand francs.  My rings, my wedding-ring.  Everything goes into the cash-box, everything.  We have a hundred thousand francs to pay this morning.  As soon as it is daylight we must go to work, sell out and pay our debts.  I know some one who wants the house at Asnieres.  That can be settled at once.”

He alone spoke and acted.  Sigismond and Madame Georges watched him without speaking.  As for Sidonie, she seemed unconscious, lifeless.  The cold air blowing from the garden through the little door, which was opened at the time of Risler’s swoon, made her shiver, and she mechanically drew the folds of her scarf around her shoulders, her eyes fixed on vacancy, her thoughts wandering.  Did she not hear the violins of her ball, which reached their ears in the intervals of silence, like bursts of savage irony, with the heavy thud of the dancers shaking the floors?  An iron hand, falling upon her, aroused her abruptly from her torpor.  Risler had taken her by the arm, and, leading her before his partner’s wife, he said: