The Vicomte had handed him the money the previous evening.
"I carelessly replaced the remainder in the drawer of my writing-table," my patron told us, "before the eyes of that scoundrel.
I went to the drawer this morning, having been uneasy about so large a sum--it was arranged that I should see Miste off from the Gare du Nord.

Figure to yourselves! The drawer was empty.

I hastened to the railway station.

Miste was, of course, not there." And he rocked himself backwards and forwards in the chair.

What trouble men take for money--what trouble it brings them! So distressed was he that it would perhaps have been wiser to change the current of his thoughts, but there was surely work here for an idle man like myself to do.
"How was the money to be conveyed ?" I asked.
"In cheques of ten thousand pounds each, drawn by John Turner on various European and American bankers in favour of myself." "And you had indorsed these cheques ?" "No." "Then how can Miste realise them ?" I asked.
"By forgery--my friend," replied the Vicomte sadly.