financial crisis, in spite of the blow he had received by the loss of his
lawsuits, the flitting of his cousin, Auguste Charron, and the farm debts
of this same cousin. It all meant a series of manipulations made
possible by the apparent confidence reposed in him by M. Mornay.

On the day he sold his farm he was by no means out of danger of absolute
insolvency--he was in fact ruined; but he was not yet the victim of those
processes which would make him legally insolvent. The vultures were
hovering, but they had not yet swooped, and there was the Manor saw-mill
going night and day; for by the strangest good luck Jean Jacques received
an order for M. Mornay's new railway (Judge Carcasson was behind that)
which would keep his saw-mill working twenty-four hours in the day for
six months.

"I like his pluck, but still, ten to one, he loses," remarked M. Mornay
to Judge Carcasson. "He is an unlucky man, and I agree with Napoleon
that you oughtn't to be partner with an unlucky man."

"Yet you have had to do with Monsieur Jean Jacques," responded the aged
Judge.

M. Mornay nodded indulgently.

"Yes, without risk, up to the burning of the mill. Now I take my
chances, simply because I'm a fool too, in spite of all the wisdom I see
in history and in life's experiences. I ought to have closed him up, but
I've let him go on, you see."

"You will not regret it," remarked the Judge. "He really is worth it."