The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1882-02-19
VAUTREAU THE VAMPIRE.

ant sOuDrlQuet was picture and Drlc.d-
brac dealerwhose dark, dusty, over.crowded
little shop in the Rue de Provence was well
known, some fifteen years ago, to every
artist and dilletante in Paris.
AT the back was an office, still dingier
than the shop, where at any time, between
the hours of 10 AM and PM, the pro-
prietor might be dimly discerned seated at
a high desk, immersed in figures. He was
bachelor, on the wrong side of sixty;
small and spare and dry in person, imper.
turbable in manner, with a grating voice
and sarcastic smile
Modest as was his establishment, his
business was on very extensive scale, and
was not confined to the buying and selling
Of pictures.
He styled himself Man of Business"
an elastic title, which covers other callngs
besides an agents. For instance, il may
mean usurer; not that we assert NJ. Vau.
treau TO have been usurer, any more than
the father Of the Bourgeois Cent?.
homme" was shop.keeper," but having
good deal OF money, and being of an
obliging disposition he lent it to his
friends, and in return for the accommoda.
ton consented to receive interest which
ranged from fifty per cent. upwards. His
clients were for the most part brethren of
the brush, though there were not few men
OF letters, rising doctors, and barristers
among them. Talent was his security. He
prided himself on discovering at once
whether young man had a future. and his
penetration was so seldom at fault that 10
be lone Of Vautreaus men" was recon-.
mendaton.
1t is true that his enemies-those malic
lous persons who had nicknamed him the
vampire Asserted that Vautreau's men
generally came TO grief in the long.run,
and that more than one promising young
artist who had mortgaged to him time,
talent and prospects had ended mserablv,
bankrupt in all. But such ISLANDERS VI.
yautreau could afford to disregard. Who.
ever failed, he flourished; "adding to
golden numbers-golden numbers" grow.
ing every year more prosperous, enyied,
and dreaded.
His shop, as has been said, was in the
Rue de Provence, but the apartment
which he had occupied for more than
twenty years was on the Left Bank, in the
Rue st. Jacques, that long unlovely street,
which leads from the Quarter DIES Ecolcs
to the ObServatoire.
Here, and here alone, the money.lcndcr
was known by his real name, which was
Jules Renault He had assumed the other
as a nOm-deguerre when first he began
business. His unsociable habits, and the
mystery attaching 10 his occupation, made
him suspected by his acknowledges Of be-
longing to the secret police, an idea which
he rather encouraged, as it saved him the
trouble OF making acquaintances, Not
half dozen persons in Paris were aware
that the wealthy money-lender Of the
Quarter dAntin and the mysterious lodgcr
in the Rue St Jacques were one and the
same individual
One ioggy November evening in the year
1865, he returned to his rooms, after q
weeks absence from town on business.
Old FRANCHISE, his housekccper, was on
her knees before the stove, blowing "A suliy
fire, which had filled the room with smoke,
in spite OF open door and window
"The Devil Do you want to smother
meY" her master exclaimed, pausing on
the threshold.
She grunted something inaudiblc as she
gave the recalcllrant fire u spiteiM poke
lie shrugged his shoulders and entered,
glancing round with aslightshiy Cheer.
less enough the room looked in the light
of a tickering lamp, with its faded furn.
ture, unexpected floor, and bare white pan
elled walls. Very cherries. and he wac
cold anu tireu, ana lne smoke and the fog
together made his eyes water, and sent him
into paroxysm Of coughing.
ANY letters or papers?" he asked when
he could speak, as he drew off his gloves
The question was merely pro G0rma. few
communications but the iaX.c0lIector's even
reached him in the Rue St Jacques
"No-yes, bythe.by, there is letter; il
came nearly week ago--thcrc.n
She nodded towards the chimney.picce
lie raised his brows in surprise, and ex
amlned the missive curiousy before omen
ing It, His face suddenly darkenes with d
frown.
Fontanebleau, oh another 'last M
peal' alter an interval Of three years Wei
II can follow It's predecessors" and he wa,
about to consign it to the fire, unread, wher
his eye was caught by the address.
"A woman's handwriing-ah that /.
something new Can il be-
lie hesllated moment, then sat down N
the 'able, drew the lamp towards him. ant
opened the letter
Dear Uncle Jules" It began.
ne started, aud glanced ut the signalur,
Eulnee LaleullIadC.h
"Good Heavens 49, then Louise left
daughter, and | never knew III II il firm,
always burnt her husbands letters mn
read" lie turned back 10 the beginning
"DEAR UNCLE JurEs You will bc SIR
prised to receive letter from yourunknow,
niece, but though am a stranger 10 Won.
can not feel that you are one TO me: dca
mother used so often to speak of you, an,
OF the days long ago, when You and Al,
lived together ! know what a Grief vo,,
cstrangement was 10 her,
"Thc osirangemcnt was Of bor ov
making" inlerpolatcd the reader, "sl
cut herself adrilt from me when s6c mn
rled Victor Laleullade, varabopd w ,ip
out sou in bis pocket, or an idea in ii
head, who iancied himself an embr,
Raphael-ah, bahl" '"
"slncc my fathers death cfso Ia
deadly well, welll'9 al have been pur