On the staircase above him he heard the heavy step of the concierge; she had lighted the gas on the first story, and continued on her way slowly.  With rapid but light steps he mounted behind her, and, on reaching Caffie’s door, he rang the bell, taking care not to ring too loudly or too timidly; then he knocked three times, as Caffie had instructed him.

Was Caffie alone?

Up to this time all had gone as he wished; no one in the vestibule, no one on the stairs; fate was in his favor; would it accompany him to the end?

While he waited at the door, asking himself this question, an idea flashed into his mind.  He would make a last attempt.  If Caffie consented to make the loan he would save himself; if he refused, he condemned himself.

After several seconds, that appeared like hours, his listening ears perceived a sound which announced that Caffie was at home.  A scratching of wood on the tiled floor denoted that a chair had been pushed aside; heavy, dragging steps approached, then the bolt creaked, and the door was opened cautiously.

“Ah!  It is you, my dear sir!” Caffie said, in surprise.

Saniel entered briskly and closed the door himself, pressing it firmly.

“Is there anything new?” Caffie asked, as he led the way to his office.

“No,” Saniel replied.

“Well, then?” Caffie asked, as he seated himself in an armchair before his desk, on which stood a lighted lamp.  “I suppose you have come to hear more about my young friend.  This hurry augurs well.”

“No, it is not of the young person that I wish to talk to you.”

“I am sorry.”

On seating himself opposite to Caffie, Saniel had taken out his watch.  Two minutes had passed since he left the vestibule; he must hurry.  In order to keep himself informed of the passing of time, he retained his watch in his hand.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes; I will come immediately to business.  It concerns myself, my position, and I make a last appeal to you.  Let us be honest with each other.  Undoubtedly you think that, pushed by my distress, and seeing that I shall be lost forever, I shall decide to accept this marriage to save myself.”

“Can you suppose such a thing, my dear sir?” Caffie cried.

But Saniel stopped him....

“The calculation is too natural for you not to have made it.  Well, I must tell you that it is false.  Never will I lend myself to such a bargain.  Renounce your project, and let us discuss my demand.  I am in absolute want of three thousand francs, and I will pay the interest that you fix upon.”

“I have not found a money-lender, my dear sir.  I have taken a great deal of trouble, I assure you, but I did not succeed.”

“Make an effort yourself.”

“Me?  My dear sir!”

“I address myself to you.”

“But I have no ready money.”

“It is a desperate appeal that I make.  I understand that your long experience in business makes you insensible to the misery that you see every day—­”