begged him to do so, and because it had been agreed he should give
you the money back if I paid him. In short, if you require
twenty-eight thousand francs before to-night, it is because M.
Fernand de Coralth has demanded that sum, and because you have
promised to give it to him!"

Leaning against the wall of the smoking-room, speechless and
motionless, holding his breath, with his hands pressed upon his
heart, as if to stop its throbbings, Pascal Ferailleur listened.
He no longer thought of flying; he no longer thought of
reproaching himself for his enforced indiscretion. He had lost
all consciousness of his position. The name of the Viscount de
Coralth, thus mentioned in the course of this frightful scene,
came as a revelation to him. He now understood the meaning of the
baron's conduct. His visit to the Rue d'Ulm, and his promises of
help were all explained. "My mother was right," he thought; "the
baron hates that miserable viscount mortally. He will do all in
his power to assist me."

Meanwhile, the baroness energetically denied her husband's
charges. She swore that she did not know what he meant. What had
M. de Coralth to do with all this? She commanded her husband to
speak more plainly--to explain his odious insinuations.

He allowed her to speak for a moment, and then suddenly, in a
harsh, sarcastic voice, he interrupted her by saying: "Oh! enough!
No more hypocrisy! Why do you try to defend yourself? What matters
one crime more? I know only too well that what I say is true; and
if you desire proofs, they shall be in your hands in less than
half an hour. It is a long time since I was blind--full twenty