"Then, I'll be bound, he has debts not a few, and arrests to match, this viscount."
"A bill of thirty-four thousand francs (1,360l.) has been sent here by the officer. It is made payable at the office. This is his creditors' doing; I don't know why or wherefore."
"Well, I should say that this dandy viscount would pay now, because he came from the country last night, where he has been concealed these three days, in order to escape from the bailiffs."
"How is it, then, that they have not seized the furniture already?"
"Why? oh, he's too cunning! The house is not his own; all the furniture is in the name of his valet de chambre, who is said to let it to him furnished; and, in the same way, his horses and carriages are in his coachman's name, who declares that he lets to the viscount his splendid turn-out at so much a month. Ah, he's a 'downy' one, is M. de Saint-Rémy! But what were you going to tell me? what has happened here fresh?"
"Why, imagine the governor coming in here two hours ago in a most awful passion. 'Germain is not here?' he exclaimed. 'No, sir.' 'Well, the rascal has robbed me last night of seventeen thousand francs!' says the governor."
"Germain—rob—ah, come, that's 'no go!'"
"You will hear. 'What, sir, are you sure? but it cannot be,' we all cried out. 'I tell you, gentlemen,' said the governor, 'that yesterday I put in the drawer of the bureau at which he writes, fifteen notes of one thousand francs each, and two thousand francs in gold, in a little box, and it is all gone.' At this moment old Marriton, the porter, came in, and he said, 'Sir, the police are coming; where is Germain?' 'Wait a bit,' said the governor to the porter; 'as soon as M. Germain returns, send him into the office, without saying a word. I will confront him before you all, gentlemen,' said the governor. At the end of a quarter of an hour in comes poor Germain, as if nothing had happened. Old Mother Séraphin had brought in our morning mess. Germain made his bow to the governor, and wished us all 'good morning,' as usual. 'Germain, don't you take your breakfast?' inquired M. Ferrand. 'No, thank you, sir, I am not hungry.' 'You're very late this morning.' 'Yes, sir; I was obliged to go to Belleville this morning.' 'No doubt to hide the money you have stolen from me!' M. Ferrand said, in a terrible voice."
"And Germain?"
"The poor fellow turned as pale as death, and stammered out, 'Pray—pray, sir, do not ruin me—'"