CHAPTER XX

THE NEW JERUSALEM GOLD MINE

En vieillissant on devient plus fou et plus sage

La Rochefoucauld. _Maximes_, 210.

Quien Mucho abarca poco a prieta. (Spanish Proverb.)

Payot's financial schemes had not been flourishing of late. The Morocco concessions for very obvious reasons had unavoidably fallen through, and the financier's credit was none of the best.

It is a well-known fact that many men finding their business affairs going from bad to worse, revert to speculation with a view of retrieving their fallen fortunes. The general result of this policy is that instead of quietly setting about putting their house in order so as to stop the debacle, they get dragged deeper and deeper into the mire of financial ruin. Unfortunately for Payot, who was naturally rather a weak and credulous character, matters had almost reached that acute and alarming stage with him, and he proved no exception to the rule.

One day after the termination of his visit to Dr. Villebois's house, while sitting comfortably in his armchair after dinner, a portly looking gentleman with a clean-shaven, very red and puffy face, was announced.

"Monsieur le Baron D'Ormontagne," said the butler, handing M. Payot the visitor's card.

The baron appeared to be about forty-five years of age, with a digestive apparatus of vast dimensions, which was screened off by a white waistcoat carrying a gold chain with links like a cable. His nose was very large and decidedly curved, and this, together with his fleshy under-lip and double chin, betrayed both his affluence and his Hebrew origin. The baron was known among his former associates as Moses Goldberg, but fortune having favoured him of late, he felt that his position warranted his assuming the more ambitious title of Baron D'Ormontagne, which of course meant the same thing, only it sounded very differently.

"Pray sit down, baron," said Payot, handing him a chair, and looking him up and down as if he were about to measure him for a suit of clothes. "What service may I have the pleasure to render you?"

The baron who was very wheezy, commenced operations by drawing a large red bandana handkerchief from the recesses of his capacious coat pocket, and after a few flourishes, began coughing violently and clearing his throat.

"I presume I have the distinguished honour and good fortune to address M. Felix Payot, am I correct?"

"Yes, that is my name," said Payot.

"I have here a letter of introduction from M. Armand who has known me for years, and he has unbounded faith in my admirable judgment and great business capacity," and so saying he handed the letter to the financier.

Payot scanned the letter, and carefully folding it, placed it on the table.

"You know him well, do you not?"

"Oh, yes," said Payot, "I have known him for many years."

"Ah then, I see we are friends at once," said the baron, rubbing his hands in his eagerness to commence his acts of friendship. "To count upon a financier like you, my dear monsieur, as one's friend is an unexpected pleasure."

At this moment a butler entered and handed him a liqueur on a salver.

"No, thank you," said the baron, throwing forward the palms of his hands as if he were pushing a boat from the landing stage, "I have just had dinner--well, as you press me--I really cannot refuse. What was I saying? Oh, yes, I remember--I have just returned from Mexico where I discovered a very valuable gold mine of outstanding richness. You will be astonished when I show you the prospectus--and the samples--ah, such samples. Voila," and spreading the crimson handkerchief on the table, he emptied into it a small heap of quartz rock studded with gold nuggets as large as peas. "What do you think of that, mon cher, for a gold mine? Is it not superb?" and the baron rubbed his hands together as if he were lathering them with air. "Fifty-six, or is it a hundred and fifty-six ounces to the ton," he continued, "I really forget which. But no matter, you will see it in the prospectus. And there are thousands and thousands of tons--in fact a small mountain of it, and the reef crops up like currants in a cake. Examine the reef where you will, you always find the same thing--quartz studded with gold, or gold studded with quartz. It is positively like prospecting the vaults of the Bank of France. The mine positively reeks with gold. I discovered it purely by accident. I was travelling over the Sierras and lost my way. Feeling tired I sat down on an outcrop of rock, and casually picked up a loose chunk to throw at a rabbit near me. The piece of stone felt so heavy that I examined it, and to my delight and surprise I found it simply scintillating with bits of gold. Ma foi, you may be sure I marked the place well, and returning with a couple of friends I pegged it out and registered my claim in the city of Mexico. Now, here is the prospectus I have drawn out. Read it carefully and to-morrow, my dear friend, I shall come again, if you will be good enough to fix a time?"

"Say the same time to-morrow," said Payot.

"Excellent, excellent, nothing like doing business at once. That is my plan, and I owe all my success in business to it. And now, mon ami, I will leave you to think over it. I see you are unable to digest any more. It is a dream--a dream, n'est-ce pas? Such a mine has never yet been seen in the world. But so true--so true. Ah, you will never again in your lifetime have such a chance as this. Ah," he said as he rose to leave, "you are admiring my watch-chain? Everyone does, it is such a marvel. Each link, sir, was forged from gold taken from this very mine. Feel its weight, sir, eh?" and he gave a greasy smile of plutocratic opulence and contentment. Carefully dusting his white cotton spats with the red handkerchief, he took hold of Payot's hands and shook them effusively. "My dear monsieur," he continued, "this has been the greatest evening of my life. The thought of sharing this find with you--so rich that I have christened it the New Jerusalem Mine--just causes my happiness to bubble over."

"But why did you call it the New Jerusalem?" asked Payot.

"What name could be more appropriate? New Jerusalem--descending from Heaven--gates of pearls--streets of shining gold--my mine to a T. What could be finer as an illustration? To-morrow then at eight p.m. Au revoir, au revoir, mon brave," he said, as the butler in answer to the bell appeared at the door and opened it to its full extent, while the wheezy gentleman with his vast display of waistcoat toddled out of the room, bowing profusely.

"A queer sort of card that," thought Payot to himself as he opened the prospectus and proceeded to examine it.

If Payot thought that the baron was piling on the abnormal richness of the mine too thickly, he found to his surprise that the report of Monsieur Alexandre Norcier, the mining engineer, went considerably further. It was certainly an able report, but the fabulous richness of the reef absolutely staggered him. His eyes glistened with excitement and greed.

"Ah," he said to himself, "if this mine is only a quarter as rich as the old baron makes out, I shall be one of the richest men in all Paris. Just think what power it will give me. What would old Duval have given to have a third share in it? I believe he would have sold his immortal soul to the Devil--aye a hundred times over. Well, there's no knowing, it may be true after all. Anyhow, I'll call on Norcier and Armand to-morrow and see what they have to say."

When Payot fell asleep that night with his imagination already heated by the story told by the baron, he dreamt that he was filling trucks with nuggets of gold, and that they were being carted to the Mint every day of the year. When his fabulous wealth became known he was invited as the piece de resistance to the receptions at every Court in Europe. Daughters of royal blood strove in bevies to compete for his hand, and the President of the Republic decorated him with the Grand Cordon of the Legion d'Honneur, and the King of England with the Order of the Garter. Mighty schemes of reform filtered through his brain. He would rebuild Paris at his own expense on a scale that would dazzle humanity. He would fill the parks with statues rivalling those of Greece. He would erect palaces, museums, places of amusement far surpassing the Golden House of Nero. He would line the banks of the Seine with the choicest trees and flowers that the whole world could offer. He would deepen the Seine so as to form a ship-canal with a depth sufficient to admit the Oceanics, Imperators, and other sea monsters right up to the very quays of Paris.

Next morning he woke with a violent headache, and it required several cups of café au rhum, combined with repeated doses of phenacetin to get him out of bed.

The fresh air outside revived him, and thinking a walk would do him good, he proceeded on foot to Norcier's business offices.

"Pardon me, M. Norcier," he remarked as he sat down, "but I had an interview with our friend the Baron D'Ormontagne yesterday, and he gave me an account of his new gold mine in Mexico. So I thought you would not mind if I asked you for a few details concerning it."

"With pleasure, M. Payot, as a matter of fact I have greatly undervalued its richness; to be candid, in my report I have cut down everything to half so as to be well on the safe side. Do you not approve?"

"Most certainly, Monsieur Norcier, most certainly I do. Do you consider it a really safe speculation?"

"My dear sir, I would not recommend it to you at all but for three reasons. Firstly, your name is one to play with, it represents such honour and integrity that it will give our syndicate great weight, and for that reason we intend, should you care to have a stake in it, to give you the most favourable terms possible. Secondly, I myself am putting in every available penny, and lastly M. Armand and the Baron D'Ormontagne, two of the most honourable men in all Paris, take each an equal share. By the way, have you met M. Armand?"

"No, I confess I have not seen him for a long time."

"Oh, then you will find him a most charming man, and one who combines great business talent with extreme caution." In fact the testimonials of these two gentlemen were so high that Payot felt it would be almost an insult to call on Armand at all.

Precisely at eight o'clock in the evening the baron, true to his word, and looking even more florid than usual, called again.

"Voila, mon ami, we can now arrange everything. We have taken such a fancy to you, mon brave, that we feel our consciences will not be satisfied until we offer you two hundred shares in our syndicate at the absurdly low figure of 1,000 francs each."

"Two hundred thousand francs (£8,000)," said Payot meditatively, "that is a great deal of money in these days--a great deal of money."

"But consider, mon ami, what you are going to get for it--a large share in the richest mine in the world. Why, in three months when the first dividend is declared, each of your two hundred shares will be worth 50,000 francs, and the first dividend alone will repay you for all you have spent, five times over. Such a chance as this only happens once in a lifetime."

"But if they are so enormously valuable, why do you sell them at all?"

"For a very simple reason, my dear Payot, we are not selling them to you for your money, but for your name. You must remember your name is a thing to conjure with. You are held in such esteem that when the public sees the prospectus with your name on the list of subscribers, there will be an active market at once, and the shares will go to ten or twenty times the present price."

Payot felt extremely flattered and firmly persuaded himself that it was really the case, and that his name could command capital anywhere. After some hesitation he consented to take the shares, and prepared to arrange with his bankers to pay D'Ormontagne the purchase money.

He was delighted with his bargain, especially as every few days he received a copy of a cable message showing the increasing returns they were getting.

A meeting of directors was held at which Payot attended. It was passed unanimously that the Company should be floated with a capital of 10,000,000 francs, and the public was invited to take up shares.

"My dear Payot," said the baron, "now is a chance to underwrite. Each of our directors is going to underwrite a million francs, and of course we look to you to do the same. You will receive 250,000 shares as a bonus, and you will never have to pay for a single share. Why, the public will subscribe ten times over. The demand is already so great that the secretary has applied for ten extra clerks."

Payot hesitated and said he would think it over.

The next day the baron brought Armand with him, and the latter simply boiled over with enthusiasm.

"My dear Payot," he exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously and patting him in a patronising way on the back. "My congratulations, you are a multi-millionaire already. Now you see the wisdom of following the advice of my esteemed friend the baron. Ah, D'Ormontagne is a great financier. Rothschild will have to look to his laurels now, but I am afraid he will have to give up the race. You mark my words, Payot, we shall all be in the Ministry at the next elections. France simply can't get on without us."

Payot sighed and merely shook his head. "I perceive you are an optimist, monsieur, and to be candid with you I confess I dread optimists. They are only a shade better than the pessimists. The latter look only on the dark side of everything, and are so cautious that they are afraid to embark on any enterprise at all, the result being that they never attempt anything unless it is absolutely devoid of any risk whatsoever. But the optimists--believe me, I have had enough of them, goodness only knows--the optimist, I repeat, always counts his chickens before they are hatched. He sees everything through rose-coloured spectacles. He counts on everything going right, and makes no provision for anything going wrong. This fanatic has also a curious way of calculating the number of tons of ore extracted every month which he multiplies by the number of ounces assayed per ton, and sets the total down as the amount which will be distributed in dividends. The silly fellow overlooks the immense amount of money which has to be sunk in working capital on the mine--in transport, food, tools, machinery, water, motive power and fuel. The condition of the roads, the proximity to a railway, the amount of available horse-power, fuel and water, the absence of any one of which is enough to ruin the prospects of the best mine--are details which never trouble him in the least. Nothing is set aside for reserve, nothing for emergencies, and so his estimate of the profits instead of being, let us say for the sake of argument, £10,000 a month, really works out at £1,000--or a tenth of his estimate when it comes to be divided among the shareholders. In a word, he becomes saturated with megalomania like a general paralytic."

"My dear Payot, you have almost taken the words out of my mouth, so thoroughly do I agree with all that you have just said," replied Armand, "but you are entirely mistaken, if you imagine that I am an optimist. On the contrary, I am so cautious that my friends nickname me the pessimist, a quite inappropriate term, I assure you, since I have the reputation of having the dash and boldness of the great Napoleon. Is that not so, baron?"

The baron had been nodding approval so violently at every word that his friend Armand had been saying, that he had to express his assent by patting him on the back instead.

"My dear Payot," said the baron, "excuse me always addressing you in this way--but your charm of manner has so won my heart that I feel it quite impossible to address you by any other term. If you will be good enough to read the prospectus carefully you will see that everyone of these items is munificently provided for. No detail has been omitted. The sum which our engineer considers ample to meet every possible contingency only amounts to £10,000 a month."

"What!" cried Payot, horrified beyond measure as he jumped up with a bound. "Do you really mean to say that this blessed mine is going to cost us £120,000 a year to keep going? Why, we shall have to close down before we can distribute a sou in dividends. Ma foi, we shall all be ruined in no time."

"Not so fast, my dear sir," they both shouted together, "not so fast. It is quite clear that the magnitude of the undertaking has been too vast to enter your brain. You must digest it gradually, and take in bits at a time, just as a boa constrictor swallows an antelope. Now just follow me very carefully," said the baron, standing up from his chair and waving his hands about like a musical conductor, in order to give greater emphasis to his remarks. "Let me repeat. The expenses all told amount to £10,000 a month. Let us multiply that sum by two to be on the safe side, and we arrive at £20,000 a month."

"Stop, my good fellow, you must be mad," cried Payot excitedly.

"Please reserve your remarks, mon ami, until I have done. When our stamp battery is in full work, the engineer says we shall crush 20,000 tons a month, and taking the lowest estimate of the richness of the ore at 28 ounces per ton--which is far below our average, as you must admit--we shall recover 560,000 ounces of gold a month. Reckon the market price of gold at £4 per ounce, the output of the mine amounts to £2,240,000 a month! Now, to satisfy the doubts of our mutual friend let us suppose the monthly working expenses to come to four times what our engineer considers ample, or £40,000, and still we have two million two hundred thousand golden sovereigns to distribute among the shareholders every month--a fortune amounting to six hundred and sixty million francs a year. I can prove that is absolutely correct," added Armand, bringing his fist down on the table with a thud, "and you, mon cher Payot, with your underwriting shares added to those you already possess will enjoy a perpetual income of eighty-eight million francs a year. Only think of it, my dear friend, and ask yourself what will all this wealth have cost you? A paltry £8,000. Why, in a year's time you will be spending more than that in fancy waistcoats and cigars, or tips to your servants."

A few days later the _Petit Journal_ appeared with a whole page devoted to the Prospectus of the Company.

The _Journal des Mines_ in a scathing article pointed out that the whole thing was a fraud from beginning to end, and warned the public not to touch a share. It even cast doubts on the very existence of the mine, and called attention to the fact that no railway existed within a hundred miles of it. But the _Mining Journal_ is not printed for the general public, who, after all, comprise the vast majority of the subscribers.

_Le Soir_, _Le Petit Journal_, _Le Temps_, _La Patrie_ and all the other dailies contained leading articles on the wonderful richness of the baron's discovery. But although these newspapers made use of it as excellent copy, they one and all ridiculed it as a 'mare's nest,' and pointed out that no such mines ever had been, or ever would be found. Payot had not only taken up the 100 founders' shares of 1,000 francs each in cash which he borrowed on the securities at his bank, and which principally found its way into the pockets of the baron and Norcier, but he had further committed himself by underwriting 40,000 shares at 25 francs each.

As he walked along the boulevard his ears were delighted by the hoarse cries of the newsvendors--"Discovery of a wonderful mine in Mexico," "The New Jerusalem Mine," "Meeting of the Directors," "Complete copy of the Prospectus."

For a few days it was a seven days' wonder.

Payot spent most of the day fingering the paper tape as it poured out of the slit of the machine like a serpent's tongue, and formed endless coils in a large wicker basket beneath it.

At first the shares began to boom.

He fingered the tape with nervous fingers. 25 francs came out in deep blue figures on the tape. Payot watched the tape roll out--French Rentes--Suez Canal shares--Messagerie Maritimes--Consols 79.

Then the machine stopped suddenly of its own accord, and as suddenly started again only to stop once more.

The financier at length saw the welcome news--New Jerusalem 25.50--26 francs--27.50--28--30 francs.

"Hurrah! well done, Jerusalem the Golden"--35 francs--40 francs.

"Ah, that's all right," he said, and the machine stopped again.

He waited a long time, but a fresh quotation failed to appear.

"Never mind, I will go to a first-class restaurant and enjoy a good dinner. 40 francs," he said to himself. "Well, I have nearly doubled my money already. That's good enough business for one day," and so saying he took a taxi and drove off to fetch the baron to dine with him and drink the health of the New Jerusalem Mine, in a bottle of Perrier Jouet.

Early the following morning he took up the tape again. His heart thumped with excitement so much that he could hardly hold the tape steadily enough to read it.

34 francs, it began--35 francs, ah, that's better--40 francs--45 francs--50 francs. Payot actually clapped his hands with excitement, and caused several Agents de Bourse to turn round and look at what had excited him.

"What is amusing you?" he enquired, looking round at a broker who was examining the tape over Payot's shoulder.

"Only your excitement over those stupid Jerusalems."

"What!" enquired Payot, "have you not bought any? I should advise you to do so immediately. They are climbing up fast, and if you wait you will have to pay through the nose for them, I can tell you."

The gentleman to whom Payot spoke so confidently was a delightful man, passionately fond of children, somewhat abrupt to strangers, but very warm-hearted and sympathetic with those he knew. He bore a very remarkable resemblance to Dr. Villebois, with his bald head, clean-shaven face and bushy side-whiskers. He had a bourgeois mien, very talkative and gay, and usually spoke in a loud voice, which is considered so objectionable by the English.

"Bah!" he exclaimed, "I would not touch them with a ten-foot pole. That mine is a fraud. I know it."

"And how does monsieur know it?" enquired Payot, his heart thumping for a very different reason from that which excited it a few moments ago.

"Wait a bit, and monsieur will see. I notice they stand at 50 frs. now, but to-morrow monsieur will find them drop. Oh yes," he added, as Payot looked flushed and angry at the man's cynical smile, "you will see. Mark my words and you will see them drop to 30 frs. and then to 20 frs.--10 frs.--5 frs.--and then to this," and he made a circle with his forefinger and thumb, and winked his eye with a chuckle.

Payot got very red in the face, and cast a defiant glance at the Agent de Bourse.

"Has monsieur got many?" the broker enquired.

"Yes, I am the proud possessor of a million francs worth."

"Holy Virgin," cried the agent in a mocking tone, "what a fool!"

"Does monsieur wish to insult me then?" cried Payot. "I think I know what I am doing better than he does. I know the mine and I know the promoters."

"I beg monsieur's pardon a thousand times," replied the agent, feeling a little ashamed of himself and assuming a kinder tone, "but I also know the promoters, and if monsieur will take my poor advice, which I give without the least prejudice or self interest, monsieur will sell his shares as quickly as he can. See," he added, as he took up the tape once more, "regardez-la," and the letters spelt out, 'Jerusalems 45 frs.--35 frs.--20 frs.--17 frs. 50--15 frs.--10 frs.' Payot gazed at them in terror. He shut his eyes and would have fallen but for his friend, the agent, who caught hold of him and steadied him.

"Come with me," he said in a kindly voice, and taking him to the nearest café gave him a glass of brandy.

The brandy revived him and he thanked his friend.

"Now, my dear sir," he replied, "permit me to sell your shares for you."

Payot squeezed his hand. "Merci, monsieur," he replied, "I would gladly do so, but my shares are all underwritten, and I have not received them yet."

The broker whistled. "Diable, what a misfortune!" he exclaimed. "Anyhow, here is my card. Call on me to-morrow at my office, and if I can be of any assistance, you may rely on me."

He looked at the card which bore the name:--

The next day the shares dropped--to nine--and finally to eight francs.

Payot felt so ill he sent for Villebois. The worthy doctor did what he could, but although an admirable physician for bodily ailments, he was almost helpless to cure the mind.

The day after, the shares made a slight recovery. They went to 12 frs. 50, and finished for the day at 15 frs., but the next day they dropped again to 6 frs.--no buyers.

Payot called on M. Beaupaire and implored him to help him.

"Certainly, my dear sir, rely on me. I may save some of the wreckage yet. Anyhow, I will do my best."

The financier squeezed his hand and went back to his house.

A few days later he received a very polite note from the baron in which he called on him to pay for his underwritten shares, and enclosed a polite account.

Payot's eyes swam when he saw the amount, £40,000, which had to be met on the making-up day at the end of the month.

He went to his banker's with a sad heart, and was closeted with him for a couple of hours, ascertaining the market value of his securities. They added up to £36,000 in all. There was nothing left but his house and furniture, and he owed £40,000.

"Sell everything I have at once," he replied, "I am ruined," and he shook hands with the banker and left the bank with a heavy heart.

He walked, for he was afraid to spend the money on a cab, and arrived at Monsieur Beaupaire's house.

How terribly dark the future loomed up before him, what visions floated through his fevered brain. He pondered over the dark days of poverty which faced him in lurid colours. Where was the dot he promised his daughter for her marriage portion? What would she think of him now? How could Delapine marry her when she was without a sou? How could she earn her living except as a despised and pitied governess? He thought of his old comrade Duval--the brave old man in spite of his vanity and eccentricities--now lying cold in the grave. He thought of his son Pierre, a parricide and an outcast like Ishmael of old, a wild man, whose hand was against every man and every man's hand against him, and he trembled at the awful vista it awoke in his mind. He looked out of the windows and saw the carriages pass with the footmen on the box and handsome women inside beautifully dressed, and watched them going to the opera with their lovers or husbands, and he shuddered as he felt that his poverty would cause all men to forsake him, and he would have to face the world alone, uncared-for and despised by all, even his nearest friends. How could he face poverty with its lean fleshless hands and sunken eyes, the single, cold, comfortless room, and the pangs of hunger? He thought of all his friends, wealthy, influential, talented, and how they would turn their heads on one side when he passed by. Oh, how bitter was the world! He thought of the saying he had so often repeated at the festive board--'Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and the world will laugh at you,' and he felt the fearful truth and reality of it at last. "When a man is down, kick him. Yes, that is the way of the world," he said to himself, "ah, yes, it is a cruel, cruel world when the gilding is all brushed off. Alas, the world has no sympathy for the gambler who loses."

He was brooding over his terrible blow when M. Beaupaire entered the room.

"Bon jour, mon ami, I am delighted to see you."

Payot reached out his hand and turned his face aside.

"Console me, my good friend," he said, "I am a ruined man."

"My dear fellow, don't look so glum as that, things are never so bad that they can't be worse. Come along, cheer up, I have promised to stick to you and help you, and I mean to do it. Here, have a glass of wine with me, and we will see what is the best thing to do now."

"It's all up with me, my friend, you can't help me, I am done for."

"Pray don't say that. Everything is for the best."

"Because everything is for the best, it does not follow that everything is for my best," said Payot gloomily.

"My dear sir, don't be down in the dumps. You remember the adage,

'For every evil under the sun There's a remedy or there's none. If there is one try and find it, If there isn't----never mind it.'

"Cheer up, old man. Don't you remember the saying of Jean Paul Richter 'Sorrow is often sent for our benefit, just as we darken the cages of the birds in order to teach them to sing.'"

Payot heaved a sigh and said nothing.

"First of all let us sell your shares, mon ami. They have still some sort of a value, and we must begin to glean the field. I will be back in an hour."

M. Beaupaire went into the Bourse and tried to sell the shares. He managed to sell 1,000 at 5 francs, and another 4,000 at 2 frs. 50, but after that there were no offers.

He found Payot looking the image of despair.

"Never mind, I have sold 5,000 shares for 19,000 frs. That is better than nothing anyhow," cried Beaupaire cheerily. "By the way, have you no friends at all who can help you, mon ami?"

"You know what friends are when you have no money."

"Well, well, surely there are some decent ones left?"

"I know the Villebois family, but I don't like to ask assistance of him."

"Don't you know anyone else--come now think?"

"No, I know no one. Stop, there is Professor Delapine. Perhaps he would not refuse to listen to me because he is engaged to my daughter."

"What? Do you mean Professor Henri Delapine of the Sorbonne?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"My dear fellow, don't lose a minute. He is the very man for you. I know him intimately--an awfully good sort, and clever! Why he is the smartest man in Paris. I'll lay you a wager of any amount you like, that Delapine will pull you through. Shake," he said proffering his hand to Payot who grasped it warmly.

"Thank you with all my heart," said Payot; "we will see him immediately," and M. Beaupaire hailed a taxi, and they drove to the Villebois's.

M. Beaupaire and Payot were soon engaged in earnest conversation with Delapine, who was propped up in an easy-chair with Renée who sat on a footstool beside him.

"You need not leave me, Renée," said the professor, as she was about to retire. "I am sure these gentlemen will not mind, and I know she wants to know the worst, don't you, Renée?"

Delapine listened quietly to the history of the New Jerusalem bubble, and leaning back with his eyes half closed, and with the tips of his fingers pressed together after the manner of divines, but said nothing. When Payot and Beaupaire had quite finished, Delapine looked up with a smile.

"Well," he answered, "I like you to put your confidence in me. You are a man after my own heart, and I promise you I will put you straight again, in fact all my arrangements for doing it have been completed for several days past."

"What do you mean, professor?" the two men called out together.

"Have I not put it clearly then?"

"Yes, but we don't understand you."

"Ah, that is another affair. As a matter of fact I did not intend that you should understand me. But I know everything that has happened since you first met with that arch-rogue, Baron D'Ormontagne, who by the way was a bookmaker's clerk who got dismissed for swindling, and is no more a baron than you are."

"My God," said Payot, "how did you learn all these things?"

"A little bird told me," said Delapine, smiling. "Now, my dear Payot, all you have to do is to sell everything you have got, and pay off your debts like a man of honour as I know you are. I give you fourteen days to do it in."

"Good," replied Payot, "and then?"

"Then come and see me again."

Renée nodded significantly to Delapine.

"My lady doctor is in command of the ship, and her orders have to be obeyed, and they are that both of you must leave the room at once. Pray do not think that I want to get rid of you, gentlemen, but I have no option in the matter," said Delapine, smiling.