"What a consummate hypocrite that villain Craven is! Any one, to read this letter, would suppose that he was actuated by the warmest attachment for his step-son; and all the while he is planning his death, and coolly suggesting to me an easy way of bringing it about. I am bad enough, or I would not lend myself to carry out his plans, but I'm not such a miserable hypocrite as he is. However, I've seen too much of the world to be shocked at anybody's depravity, having a fair share of wickedness myself. As to the suggestion, I must confess that it's a good one, and relieves me from a good deal of anxious thought. I've been considering how best I could get rid of the young incumbrance. It occurred to me that I could lock him up, and set some charcoal to burning in his room; but, heating the room—it's too hot already. Then, again, I thought of poison. But there's a chance of a post-mortem examination. That won't do. But Craven's plan is best. As far as I can see it will be effectual, and free from danger also. As soon as I can decently get away from Paris, I'll take the boy to Switzerland. I must stay here a week at least, especially as the exhibition is open, or it might draw suspicion upon me. When I'm rid of the boy I shall breathe freer. Then for America, and a final reckoning with Craven. With ten thousand dollars—and more, if I can extort it from him—I will set up for respectability, and develop into a substantial citizen. Good-by, then, to the gambling table. It has been my bane, but, with a fair competence, I will try to resist its fascinations."
Sharpley and our hero met at the table d'hôte dinner and at breakfast. For the remainder of the day Frank was left to his own devices; but for this he cared little. Either alone, or in company with Mr. Tarbox, he went about the city, often as an outside passenger on the street stages which ply from one end of Paris to the other, and in this way he came to have a very good idea of the plan of the brilliant capital.
On the sixth day, while they were at dinner, Sharpley said:
"Well, Frank, have you seen considerable of Paris?"
"Oh, yes, sir; I am getting to know my way around pretty well."
"I am sorry I have not been able to go about with you more."
"That is of no consequence, sir. I have got on very well alone."
"Have you written home?"
"Yes, sir."