"I have not always served others," he continued; "my father was in
easy circumstances--almost rich. He had large gardens, near
Saumur, and he passed for one of the best gardeners of that region.
I was educated, and when sixteen years old, began to study law.
Four years later they thought me a talented youth. Unhappily for
me, my father died. He left me a landed property worth a hundred
thousand francs: I sold it out for sixty thousand and went to Paris.
I was a fool then. I had the fever of pleasure-seeking, a thirst
for all sorts of pastimes, perfect health, plenty of money. I found
Paris a narrow limit for my vices; it seemed to me that the objects
of my desires were wanting. I thought my sixty thousand francs
would last forever."

Guespin paused; a thousand memories of those times rushed into his
thoughts and he muttered:

"Those were good times."

"My sixty thousand francs," he resumed, "held out eight years.
Then I hadn't a sou, yet I longed to continue my way of living.
You understand, don't you? About this time, the police, one night,
arrested me. I was 'detained' six months. You will find the
records of the affair at the prefecture. Do you know what it will
tell you? It will tell you that on leaving prison I fell into that
shameful and abominable misery which exists in Paris. It will tell
you that I have lived among the worst and lowest outcasts of Paris
--and it is the truth."

The worthy mayor was filled with consternation.