“Can it be that she is making me a receiver of stolen property?  No,” he said aloud, “in order to draw up the memorial for the Academy, I must, as I told you, make a few inquiries; and that will give me occasion to call upon you.  At what hour can I see you alone?”

“At four o’clock, when monsieur goes to take his walk in the Luxembourg.”

“And where do you live?”

“Rue du Val-de-Grace, No. 9.”

“Very good; at four o’clock; and if, as I doubt not, the result of my inquiry is favorable, I will take your money then.  Otherwise, if there are not good grounds for your application for the prize of virtue there will be no reason why you should make a mystery of your legacy.  You could then invest it in some more normal manner than that I have suggested to you.”

“Oh! how cautious monsieur is!” she said, with evident disappointment, having thought the affair settled.  “This money, God be thanked!  I have not stolen, and monsieur can make what inquiries he likes about me in the quarter.”

“It is quite indispensable that I should do so,” said la Peyrade, dryly, for he did not at all like, under this mask of simplicity, the quick intelligence that penetrated his thoughts.  “Without being a thief, a woman may very well not be a Sister of Charity; there’s a wide margin between the two extremes.”

“As monsieur chooses,” she replied; “he is doing me so great a service that I ought to let him take all precautions.”

Then, with a piously humble bow, she went away, taking her money with her.

“The devil!” thought la Peyrade; “that woman is stronger than I; she swallows insults with gratitude and without the sign of a grimace!  I have never yet been able to master myself like that.”

He began now to fear that he had been too timid, and to think that his would-be creditor might change her mind before he could pay her the visit he had promised.  But the harm was done, and, although consumed with anxiety lest he had lost a rare chance, he would have cut off a leg sooner than yield to his impulse to go to her one minute before the hour he had fixed.  The information he obtained about her in the quarter was rather contradictory.  Some said his client was a saint; otherwise declared her to be a sly creature; but, on the whole, nothing was said against her morality that deterred la Peyrade from taking the piece of luck she had offered him.

When he met her at four o’clock he found her in the same mind.

With the money in his pocket he went to dine with Cerizet and Dutocq at the Rocher de Cancale; and it is to the various emotions he had passed through during the day that we must attribute the sharp and ill-considered manner in which he conducted his rupture with his two associates.  This behavior was neither that of his natural disposition nor of his acquired temperament; but the money that was burning in his pockets had slightly intoxicated him; its very touch had conveyed