books were in an unsatisfactory state: money
—a large sum— was missing; and that which
deepened suspicion against him was, that
while he alone had access to the desk where
his master's money was kept, he had only
within the last few days had an idea of
leaving his employment. Then, he had
bought a number of things for personal
adornment. Adolphe vehemently asserted
his innocence; while the prison officer simply
told him, in a coolly polite voice, that he
would soon have a fair opportunity of
proving it.

Adolphe in due time was tried. It was
proved that he alone could have possessed
himself of the missing money. Monsieur
Perrin's counsel dwelt upon the temptations
to youth in a great and fascinating city like
Paris. He enlarged upon the confidence
that had been placed — alas! with the most
lamentable results — in the prisoner; upon
his sudden love of dress; and, above all, upon
his evident idea of going on the Bourse with
money filched from his employer. In reply,
Adolphe's counsel denied the charge, asserted
that the money spent by his client was part
of his savings, and wound up by telling
the jury that the prisoner, whom he had the
honour to defend, had transacted business
for Monsieur Perrin to the extent of
millions, without ever having touched a single
centime. The procureur spoke against
Adolphe; and the jury convicted him. The
poor fellow turned deadly pale as the judge
sentenced him to a long term of imprisonment,
bidding him lead an honest life on his
return to the world.

CHAPTER THE SECOND.

JULIE had accompanied her mother to the
country house near Tours on the day of
Adolphe's arrest. Her mother had shut
herself up in her room on her arrival, and
had handed Julie over to the care of a
maiden aunt, who endeavoured in vain to
solve the problem of the child's profound
melancholy. Every day's journals had been
eagerly read; and, when Adolphe was
convicted, a burst of grief declared to Monsieur
Perrin's sister the state of Julie's mind. She
loved the thief! Mademoiselle Rollin was
one of those ladies to whom love was
a monster of hideous mien, and in whose eyes
Caliban very fairly represents all men. No
prayers would have prevented her from
revealing a tender secret to even the harshest
of mothers. She rather gloried in the office
of informer; and, on the present occasion, it
was certainly with a step wonderfully elastic,
considering Mademoiselle's age and figure,
that she went to her sister's bedroom.

Madame Perrin heard all Mademoiselle
Rollin had to say with calmness; but then
calmness, with Madame, was passion. That
lady expressed the most fiendish anger by the
most delightful smiles. Her emotions
appeared to have been so long at war with her
face, that there was no relation between them.
The most sagacious reader of the human eye
could not have read in those of Madame
Perrin a true word. She puzzled her sister
utterly; and, when she heard of her daughter's
grief at Adolphe's conviction, she simply
answered that " It did not matter, since the
young man had been convicted, and
marriage or correspondence with him was
impossible."

Julie was left to her melancholy thoughts,
while Adolphe went through his daily round
of humiliations, in the midst of rogues and
vagabonds. At first he was stunned; but
there he was, a branded felon — he who had
never harmed a human creature! Then he
broke out in imploring prayers to the gaolers,
who looked knowing, if they did not laugh.
For, nearly all prisoners begin with
declarations of innocence; to which the prison
authorities listen generally with the most
unbelieving of ears. At last, worn out by his
strong emotions, the poor fellow became
resigned and calm; and did his work without
muttering a word. He swallowed all the
dreadful bitterness, with which, at first, he
had regarded Monsieur Perrin's ruthless
nature. He thought no longer of the stern
face that rose up against him in the court,
and proved that he was a thief, to the
satisfaction of a jury, and with the concurrence of
the judge — but of Julie; of that last look
she gave him, as her father dragged her
from the bureau — he could not fail to think
he saw the story of her love, and cursed
himself that he had remained blind so long.
But, now, of what avail could the glorious
knowledge be to him!

Monsieur Perrin talked of Adolphe's
conviction as a salutary lesson, which, at
the cost of his own tender heart, he had
presented to the young men of Paris. It
was highly necessary that confidential clerks
should have such an example before them.
It went horribly against his nature to prosecute
—but both he and Madame Perrin felt
their moral responsibility; and that, to let
the thief escape, would have been to imperil
a neighbour. Therefore Monsieur Perrin
could boast that he had always been an
indulgent employer, whose heart bled when he
gave his clerk into custody, and was lacerated
when he brought him to trial. All this was
said over and over again, in various cafés
near the Bourse, as the sharebroker took his
absinthe with a client.

After three or four months spent in the
country, Madame Perrin and Julie returned
to town. Julie almost burst into tears when,
on entering the old familiar bureau, she saw
nobody at Adolphe's desk; while his office
coat still hung in a corner, as of old. Her
father kissed her on the forehead and her
mother on both cheeks, as they entered the
salon, and then begged them to leave him, as
he had business with the sallow young man
who was seated on the sofa.