CHAPTER XX.

THE CONSPIRATORS.

In a small but richly furnished parlor of a house in one of the most retired streets leading from the Champs Élysées toward the Barrière du Roule, sat a personage, she shall not be dignified with the title of lady, though her rich dress might, at the first glance, have deceived a more than casual observer into the belief that she was entitled to that appellation. There was a soft, purring, cat-like air about her, well calculated to heighten the deceit.

She was attired apparently for a morning drive; and a velvet dress, and a hat of the same color and material, ornamented with mingled ostrich and soft marabout feathers, a large palatine and muff of zibeline sable, and a deep border of the same costly fur around the skirt of the dress, showed that no expense had been spared in its adornment.

The morning was cold for the spring, as this care of her health, in the anticipated exposure of a morning drive, attested, and a small fire was burning in the hearth, from which her face was sheltered by a silken screen that depended from the mantel. She was re

clining, rather than sitting, upon a small velvet causeuse, and absorbed in the perusal of one of those poisonous works of a perverted imagination, with which the circulating libraries of the metropolis were unhappily rife.

She started, when a hand was unexpectedly laid upon the book, though it was done in the soft cat-like manner resembling her own, and the voice that accompanied the action was modulated to her own purring tones. The person, who had thus intruded upon her solitude, was apparently not unexpected, for as soon as she had recovered from her surprise, she greeted him with a smile of welcome.

"I thought you had forgotten me this morning, Auguste," she said in her softest manner, "notwithstanding the promise I exacted from you so prettily last evening, according to our compact, to pay me a fraternal visit to-day. I have been trying to beguile the time with this entertaining book. Ah, why am I so weak as to rely so much for my happiness upon a brother, a step-brother it is true, but still one so beloved, yet so capricious as Auguste Dubourg?"

She put a delicately laced and embroidered handkerchief to her eyes, as she spoke.

"Madeleine," said Dubourg, changing his tone from the flattering one in which he had accosted her, "I have no time at present for playing the part of the affectionate brother, which has so often served our purposes that we must rehearse it sometimes in private, in order that our performance may be more effective, when our interests demand its display elsewhere. We understand each other too well to act

such a farce, except when it is necessary to make dupes of others; here we have no witnesses; I have come this morning to speak the truth."

"Well," returned Madeleine, changing her voice to a livelier key than the one she had hitherto spoken in, "and what may be the unusual occurrence that has led to such an unusual result?"

"You speak more like your real self in that remark, Madeleine," replied Dubourg, "and though it is less flattering to me, it gives me a better assurance of your sincerity. But as a pleasant prelude to the colloquy I propose, walk to the window, and give me your opinion of the equipage I have provided for your morning drive."

claimed.

His companion hastened to the window, and gave a suppressed cry of pleasure. Beautiful! she ex"Sapristi!"-forgetting at once, in the joy of the surprise, that by a vulgar expression, nearest to an oath, she was forfeiting every claim to the sentimental lady she had feigned. "They are undeniably and perfectly beautiful. Chariot, liveries, horses,

every thing in keeping, and splendid in style!"

"As to the chariot and the liveries," said Dubourg, "you may have some just ideas with regard to them, but no woman has any idea of a horse farther than his head and tail, and the tail of a horse is as often tied on here for a drive, as the wig of an old beau is put on for the same purpose, without wiser heads than yours making any discovery of the trick. But I rejoice that the equipage meets your approbation, since I came this morning to offer it to your acceptance."

"That is kind indeed," replied Madeleine, though evidently expressing less delight at the acquisition than the donor had expected; "but for a favor so unusual, something will probably have to be paid. What sacrifice am I to make for this elegant addition to my pleasures?"

Dubourg hesitated for a moment, and then replied: "If I ask sacrifices, I am willing to make them, as you perceive from the gift I have just offered you. There are others that I will make, if you will oblige me in the object I have in view. I saw on your table yesterday a handful of bills, of which those of Victorine and Herbault alone are sufficient to send you to Clichy, unless a hand more powerful than your own is interposed to prevent such a catastrophe."

"And by what right do you take upon yourself to examine my bills without my knowledge or consent?" said Madeleine, reddening with anger, and altogether forgetting her assumed softness of man

ner.

Dubourg smiled scornfully. "You can answer that question as well as I can," he replied. "But, as I have said to you, I have no time at present to waste in idle words. The equipage I offer is yours, to do what you will with. This house is leased for you for a term of three years. The bills I saw yesterday, to the extent of more thousands than all your possessions are worth, shall be instantly paid, provided,”

"Ah, that proviso!" exclaimed Madeleine, "it must indeed involve a serious matter. Well, proceed."

"Before I explain farther," said Dubourg, "let

me reverse the picture. If you refuse to grant the request I am about to make, the equipage vanishes as suddenly as ever did that of the Cenerentola, and you will find nought but rats in the place of the horses you so ardently admire. Your creditors will come on you in a swarm, before the week is ended. Your house will be stripped of its furniture to satisfy their claims, your jewels, furs, and laces will follow, the house itself will be underlet, and the fair personage I have now the honor to address will be, as she has once before been,-on the pavé.

"You offer a frightful alternative," said his companion, covering her face with her hands, and shuddering with an expression of genuine feeling, "name your terms-I shall be obedient.”

"Those words are the first really sensible ones you have spoken this morning," said Dubourg. "Listen to me, for my explanation requires attention. It is all a farce, Madeleine, for you to pretend such devoted attachment to me. I know that you are bound to me more by interest than affection, and it is to that interest alone that I appeal. All the promises I have made I will fully guarantee to you; and what will be better for you, if the plan in which I am about to ask your co-operation succeeds, I will engage to settle on you a handsome pension for life.

a

"There is in this metropolis," he continued, young person of noble extraction. Her father and his nephew "—

"A father and a nephew!" interrupted Madeleine. "The first part of your communication, if it is what I suspect, was promising for the scheme; the