Alas! the unfortunate cashier saw only too clearly that the chances
were terribly unequal, and was overwhelmed with the sense of his own
inferiority.

Never had he thought that his chief would carry out his threats; for,
in a contest of this nature, M. Fauvel would have as much to risk as his
cashier, and more to lose.

He was sitting near the fireplace, absorbed in the most gloomy
forebodings, when the banker's chamber-door suddenly opened, and a
beautiful girl appeared on the threshold.

She was tall and slender; a loose morning gown, confined at the waist
by a simple black ribbon, betrayed to advantage the graceful elegance of
her figure. Her black eyes were large and soft; her complexion had
the creamy pallor of a white camellia; and her beautiful dark hair,
carelessly held together by a tortoise-shell comb, fell in a profusion
of soft curls upon her exquisite neck. She was Madeleine, M. Fauvel's
niece, of whom he had spoken not long before.

Seeing Prosper in the study, where probably she expected to find her
uncle alone, she could not refrain from an exclamation of surprise.

"Ah!"

Prosper started up as if he had received an electric shock. His eyes,
a moment before so dull and heavy, now sparkled with joy as if he had
caught a glimpse of a messenger of hope.