menacing the destruction of the whole family--but Rudolph was at hand to
support them.

His cashier, Francois Germain, also was in prison, thanks to him. The
youth--who had saved some money, and deposited it with a banker out of
town--had no sooner heard that Louise Morel's father was in debt (a means
of Ferrand's triumph over the girl), than he gave her some of his
employer's money, thinking to replace it with his own immediately after.
But while he was away to draw the deficit from his banker's, the notary
discovered the loss, and had him arrested as a thief.

The notary, whose cunning had earned him a high reputation for honesty,
strictness, and parsimony, was, at this moment, therefore, at the climax of
inward delight. His chief accomplice removed (his only other being the Dr.
Polidori already mentioned) he believed he had nothing to fear. Louise
Morel had been replaced by a new servant, much more tempting to a man of
the notary's sensual cravings than that first poor victim had been.

We usher the reader, at the clerks' breakfast-time, into the notary's
gloomy office.

A thing unheard-of, stupendous, marvelous! instead of the meager and
unattractive stew, brought every morning to these young people by the
_departed_ housekeeper, Madame Seraphin, an enormous cold turkey,
served up on an old paper box, ornamented the middle of one of the tables
of the office, flanked by two loaves of bread, some Dutch cheese, and three
bottles of sealed wine; an old leaden inkstand, filled with a mixture of
salt and pepper, served as a salt-cellar; such was the bill of fare.

Each clerk, armed with his knife and a formidable appetite, awaited the