CHAPTER I
Were the events of this nether sphere governed by the calculus of
probabilities, Count Abel Larinski and Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz would
almost unquestionably have arrived at the end of their respective careers
without ever having met. Count Larinski lived in Vienna, Austria; Mlle.
Moriaz never had been farther from Paris than Cormeilles, where she went
every spring to remain throughout the fine weather. Neither at Cormeilles
nor at Paris had she ever heard of Count Larinski; and he, on his part, was
wholly unaware of the existence of Mlle. Moriaz. His mind was occupied
with a gun of his own invention, which should have made his fortune, and
which had not made it. He had hoped that this warlike weapon, a true
/chef-d\'oeuvre/, in his opinion superior in precision and range to any other
known, would be appreciated, according to its merits, by competent judges,
and would one day be adopted for the equipment of the entire Austro-
Hungarian infantry. By means of unremitting perseverance, he had
succeeded in obtaining the appointment of an official commission to
examine it. The commission decided that the Larinski musket possessed
certain advantages, but that it had three defects: it was too heavy, the
breech became choked too rapidly with oil from the lubricator, and the
cost of manufacture was too high. Count Abel did not lose courage. He
gave himself up to study, devoted nearly two years to perfecting his
invention, and applied all his increased skill to rendering his gun lighter
and less costly. When put under test, the new firearm burst, and this
vexatious incident ruined forever the reputation of the Larinski gun. Far
from becoming enriched, the inventor had sunk his expenses, his advances
of every kind; he had recklessly squandered both revenue and capital,
which, to be sure, was not very considerable.