“’I am wretched.  Employed by you in your speculations, I have given way to temptation, and have speculated on my own account.  One loss brought about another, I lost my head; I hoped to recover my money; and now, at this hour, I owe more than ten thousand dollars, which I have taken from the safe of the society.

“’Will you have pity on me?  Will you be so generous as to lend me that sum?  I may not be able to return it in less than six or seven years; but I will repay you, I swear it, with interest.

“’I await your answer, like a criminal, who waits for the verdict.  It is a matter of life and death with me; and as you decide, so I may be saved, or disgraced forever.  A. Malgat.’”

On the margin, methodical M. Elgin had written in his angular handwriting,—­

“Answered immediately.  Sent to M. M. ten thousand dollars, to be drawn from funds deposited with the Mutual Discount Society.  No interest to be paid.”

“And that,” stammered Daniel, “that is the man”—­

“Whom they charge me with having turned aside from the paths of honesty; yes, sir!  Now you learn to know him.  But wait.  You see, he was saved.  It was not long before he appeared here, his false face bathed in tears.  I can find no words to convey to you the exaggerated expressions of his gratitude.  He refused to shake hands with M. Elgin, he said, because he was no longer worthy of such honor.  He spoke of nothing but of his devotion unto death.  It is true M. Elgin carried his generosity to an extreme.  He, a model of honesty, who would have starved to death rather than touch the gold intrusted to his care,—­he consoled Malgat, finding all kinds of apology for him, telling him, that, after all, he was not so very much to blame, that there were temptations too strong to be resisted, and repeating even those paradoxical principles which have been specially invented as an apology for thieves.  Malgat had still some money of his own; but M. Elgin did not ask him for it, for fear of hurting his feelings.  He continued to invite him, and urged him to come and dine with us as heretofore.”

She stopped, laughing in a nervous manner, which was painful to hear, and then continued, in a hoarse voice,—­

“Do you know, M. Champcey, how Malgat repaid all this kindness?  Read this note; it will restore me in your esteem, I trust.”

It was another letter written by Malgat to M. Elgin, and ran thus,—­

“M.  Elgin,—­I have deceived you.  It was not ten thousand dollars I had taken, but sixty thousand five hundred dollars.

“Thanks to false entries, I have been able to conceal my defalcations until now; but I can do so no longer.  The board of directors have begun to suspect me; and the president has just told me that tomorrow the books will be examined.  I am lost.

“I ought to kill myself, I know; but I have not the courage to do so.  I venture to ask you to furnish me the means of escaping from this country.  I beseech you on my knees, in the name of all that is dear to you, for mercy’s sake; for I am penniless, and cannot even pay the fare on the railway as far as the frontier.  Nor can I return to my house; for I am watched.