He hurried to his room, which was in the attic under the eaves, furnished with the most excessive simplicity: an iron bedstead, a table, and one chair. A trunk with a large lock upon it was also in the room.
Maslenes locked the door, and then dropped on the one chair the place contained. He sat for some minutes buried in thought.
"What am I to do? What am I to do?"
Then he rose, and opened the trunk of which we have spoken, with a key that he took from his pocket. He took out a bag, and a portfolio. He tried the weight of the bag and shrugged his shoulders. He then loosened the cord that held the bag together, and produced ten louis, at which he looked sadly. The portfolio contained three bank notes of one hundred francs each.
"And in two days I have five hundred francs to pay, and afterward what is to become of us?"
Then a long silence broken by the words once more, "Oh! how miserable I am!" He paced his room like a prisoner in his cell.
"What am I to do? I am afraid to try anything. I might, to be sure, earn a crust of bread for myself, but what is to become of her? Poor Jane! and yet I would give my very life to spare her one pang. If she pleased she might, with her talent, be as rich as a queen, but she cannot forget the past, and that is my work!"
He counted the louis over and over again. Suddenly he started. It seemed to him that he heard a sound without; he threw the bag and the portfolio into the trunk and locked it, then rushed to the door. On opening it there was no one to be seen.
"Is there any one here?" he asked.
There was no reply.