There was a risk in his returning under any circumstances.  His disappearance had not ended the terrible affair of Tarascon.  He was supposed to be dead; but as there was no positive proof of his death, and his body could not be found, the law was compelled to yield to the clamor of public opinion.

The case was brought before the assize court; and, in default of appearance, Gaston de Clameran was sentenced to several years of close confinement.

As to Louis de Clameran, no one knew positively what had become of him.  Some people said he was leading a life of reckless extravagance in Paris.

Informed of these facts by her faithful Mihonne, Valentine became more gloomy and hopeless than ever.  Vainly did she question the dreary future; no ray appeared upon the dark horizon of her life.

Her elasticity was gone; and she had finally reached that state of passive resignation peculiar to people who are oppressed and cowed at home.

In this miserable way, passed four years since the fatal evening when Gaston left her.

Mme. de la Verberie had spent these years in constant discomfort.  Seeing that she could not live upon her income, and having too much pride to sell her land, which was so badly managed that it only brought her in two per cent, she mortgaged her estate in order to raise money only to be spent as soon as borrowed.

In such matters, it is the first step that costs; and, after having once commenced to live upon her capital, the countess made rapid strides in extravagance, saying to herself, “After me, the deluge!” Very much as her neighbor, the late Marquis of Clameran, had managed his affairs, she was now conducting hers, having but one object in view—­her own comfort and pleasure.

She made frequent visits to the neighboring towns of Nimes and Avignon; she sent to Paris for the most elegant toilets, and entertained a great deal of company.  All the luxury that she had hoped to obtain by the acquisition of a rich son-in-law, she determined to give herself, utterly regardless of the fact that she was reducing her child to beggary.  Great sorrows require consolation!

The summer that she returned from London, she did not hesitate to indulge her fancy for a horse; it was rather old, to be sure, but, when harnessed to a second-hand carriage bought on credit at Beaucaire, made quite a good appearance.

She would quiet her conscience, which occasionally reproached her for this constant extravagance, by saying, “I am so unhappy!”

The unhappiness was that this luxury cost her dear, very dear.

After having sold the rest of her rents, the countess first mortgaged the estate of La Verberie, and then the chateau itself.

In less than four years she owed more than forty thousand francs, and was unable to pay the interest of her debt.

She was racking her mind to discover some means of escape from her difficulties, when chance came to her rescue.