"Versailles, May 25, 1883.
"MY DEAR FATHER,
"A terrible catastrophe has befallen me, one which will be a blow to you also. I am writing about it, because I dare not face you; I deserve never to see you again!
"Led astray by a companion, I have been gambling on the Bourse, and am involved in yesterday's crash, in which so many fortunes have been suddenly swamped.
"I scarcely dare to tell you how much I have lost. Yet I must do so, for the honour of the Sauvalliers is concerned. Alas! you will be all but ruined!
"I owe the sum of four hundred and sixty-eight thousand francs. Oh! what a miserable wretch I am!
"When I found that the smash was inevitable I went mad, and entered my room with the intention of putting an end to my wretched existence. But more sober thoughts prevailed: I changed my mind. I had heard that officers were being recruited for Tonquin, and I determined to volunteer for this service. My suicide would not have bettered matters; it would rather have left an added blot upon our family name. Out there, at all events, my death may be of use; it will cause you no shame, and may perhaps move you to a little compassion for your guilty, but most unhappy and despairing son, who suffers agonies at thought of the trouble he has brought upon you, and who now bids you an eternal farewell!
"CAMILLE SAUVALLIER."
Mons. Sauvallier, who had been a widower for several years past, was one of the most respected business-men of Paris, the owner of a foundry, a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, and an officer of the Legion of Honour. He had two sons: Camille, the lieutenant: and August, an artist of some originality, who was the husband of a charming wife, and the father of a little six-year-old maiden named Andrée. Mons. Sauvallier had always deterred his sons from embarking in trade. He had shrunk from exposing them to the ups and downs of business life, its trying fluctuations, its frequent cruel mischances. He had arranged that at his death his estate should be realized: he did not wish the business to be sold outright, in case it should pass into the hands of strangers who might sully the hitherto unblemished name of Sauvallier.
And now, in spite of all his precautions, a disaster greater than any he had dreamed of had overwhelmed him.