and, after the scenes she had lately
witnessed, any place out of Paris was
welcome. The house, in fact, was only small by
comparison.

Early on the morning after his arrival,
Monsieur Morin went from home. Besides the
removal of certain effects from the vessel in
which he came from France, he had affairs of
importance to transact. The nature of his own
occupations in Paris had long connected him
with a London firm, the founder of which
was a fellow countryman, named Devaux;
and, to his place of business in the City,
Monsieur Morin at once proceeded. A painful
surprise awaited him. Greatly to his sorrow,
he learnt that the head of the house had
died only ten days before, after a brief illness.

"Mr. Richard Devaux, the only son, sir,"
whispered the clerk who gave this information,
"is now our principal. Our late Mr.
Devaux was buried on Saturday, and to-day is
Mr. Richard's first appearance here since his
father's death. But he takes to it, sir: he
takes to it. O, yes, sir, he will see you, no
doubt. Who shall I say, sir?"

Richard Devaux was a short, thick-set
young man, apparently about five-and-twenty,
with a colourless cheek, thin lips, and dark,
restless eyes. At Monsieur Morin's entrance,
he rose from a table, on which several folios
were lying open, and came to meet him.

"Monsieur Morin, of the Rue de
Mirabeau ?" he said, in a low voice.

"The same, sir. The correspondent of your
house, and the old friend of your father."

They shook hands, and there was silence
between them for a few moments, each
apparently occupied with the past. Monsieur
Morin was the first to speak.

"I grieve, sir," he said, "to trespass on
your attention so soon after your sad bereavement;
had I known of your recent loss, I
would have deferred my visit till you were
better prepared to receive me."

"It does not matter," replied Richard
Devaux. "A day sooner or later, when the
worst is over, is of no consequence. You
perceive," he added, pointing to the books
before him, "that I have already begun to
distract my thoughts by application to
business."

"You are right," returned Monsieur
Morin. "I, too, find my only relief in active
pursuits. But for them my mind would sink
altogether, when I contemplate the position
of my unhappy country."

"Are affairs, then, so much worse in
France? Forgive me, sir, for asking the
question, but the last few weeks have been
for me a perfect blank."

"I can well understand it," said Monsieur
Morin, again pressing the young man's hand.
"Yes," he resumed, "everything hastens
from bad to worse; and this will be the case
till the very worst arrives."

"The worst?" repeated Richard Devaux,
with an inquiring look.

"Unless our efforts can prevent it. The
horrors of September have reached your
ears?"

"All the world shudders at them. Can
anything more terrible befal?"

"Every day the hand of murder strikes
down a nobler victim: every day witnesses a
bolder and bloodier tyranny. All soon will
be anarchy. The king is already accused
before the Convention. That was the natural
consequence of the infamous decree by which
royalty was abolished in France. See, then,
what hope we have of the future, unless we
find it here!"

"And is that, sir, your only expectation?"

"I fear it. Everywhere on the Continent
the armies of the revolution triumph. And
this brings me to the object of my present
visit. The sums which have been deposited
with your house must shortly be made useful
to our cause. You are aware of the extent
of my transactions in this respect with your
late honoured father."

"Not entirely, sir, for my father kept those
accounts under his sole supervision. It was
only this morning, for the first time, that I
have had access to the volume in which they
are entered. It is one that has been kept
apart for that especial purpose."

"I have some large additions to make,"
continued Monsieur Morin. "I waited to
the last to collect all I could, as well of my
own capital as of that which I was
empowered to raise."

"And have you finally left Paris ?"

"Alas, yes, till better times, should we
ever behold them, arrive."

"Well, sir," said Richard Devaux, after a
short pause, "whatever amounts you are
prepared to lodge with us shall be held in trust,
—or, as we bankers say, at call—till you
require them. I am, moreover, quite at your
service whenever you wish to go through the
accounts. My poor father's principles are
mine, political as well as commercial. You
may rest assured that what he would have
done I shall ever faithfully perform. This
is, not only a duty I owe to his memory, but
a tribute of my own personal respect for
yourself."

Monsieur Morin was gratified to hear
Richard Devaux speak in this wise, and
they parted on the friendliest terms, after
the refugee had entered into some further
explanation of his present position, which
ended by an invitation to the young banker
to come and see him. An intimacy
consequently arose; and, after the first visit paid
by Richard Devaux to Monsieur Morin's
house, there was no necessity for pressing its
repetition.

II.

A NEW kind of existence had now opened
before Richard Devaux, which, situated as
he was, possessed a peculiar attraction.
His father had been one of those men