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diff --git a/1660-h/1660-h.htm b/1660-h/1660-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e14f999 --- /dev/null +++ b/1660-h/1660-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,27079 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Scenes from a Courtesan's Life, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Scenes from a Courtesan's Life, by Honore de Balzac + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Scenes from a Courtesan's Life + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Translator: James Waring + +Release Date: February 28, 2010 [EBook #1660] +Last Updated: November 23, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENES FROM A COURTESAN'S LIFE *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny, Bonnie Sala, John Bickers, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SCENES FROM A COURTESAN’S LIFE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by James Waring + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="mynote"> + <p> + PREPARER’S NOTE: The story of Lucien de Rubempre begins in the Lost + Illusions trilogy which consists of Two Poets, A Distinguished + Provincial at Paris, and Eve and David. The action in Scenes From A + Courtesan’s Life commences directly after the end of Eve and David. + </p> + <br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DEDICATION + + To His Highness + Prince Alfonso Serafino di Porcia. + + Allow me to place your name at the beginning of an essentially + Parisian work, thought out in your house during these latter days. + Is it not natural that I should offer you the flowers of rhetoric + that blossomed in your garden, watered with the regrets I suffered + from home-sickness, which you soothed, as I wandered under the + boschetti whose elms reminded me of the Champs-Elysees? Thus, + perchance, may I expiate the crime of having dreamed of Paris + under the shadow of the Duomo, of having longed for our muddy + streets on the clean and elegant flagstones of Porta-Renza. When I + have some book to publish which may be dedicated to a Milanese + lady, I shall have the happiness of finding names already dear to + your old Italian romancers among those of women whom we love, and + to whose memory I would beg you to recall your sincerely + affectionate +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DE BALZAC. + July 1838. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>SCENES FROM A COURTESAN’S LIFE</b> </a><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> ESTHER HAPPY; OR, HOW A COURTESAN CAN LOVE </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ADDENDUM </a><br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + SCENES FROM A COURTESAN’S LIFE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ESTHER HAPPY; OR, HOW A COURTESAN CAN LOVE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + In 1824, at the last opera ball of the season, several masks were struck + by the beauty of a youth who was wandering about the passages and + greenroom with the air of a man in search of a woman kept at home by + unexpected circumstances. The secret of this behavior, now dilatory and + again hurried, is known only to old women and to certain experienced + loungers. In this immense assembly the crowd does not trouble itself much + to watch the crowd; each one’s interest is impassioned, and even idlers + are preoccupied. + </p> + <p> + The young dandy was so much absorbed in his anxious quest that he did not + observe his own success; he did not hear, he did not see the ironical + exclamations of admiration, the genuine appreciation, the biting gibes, + the soft invitations of some of the masks. Though he was so handsome as to + rank among those exceptional persons who come to an opera ball in search + of an adventure, and who expect it as confidently as men looked for a + lucky coup at roulette in Frascati’s day, he seemed quite philosophically + sure of his evening; he must be the hero of one of those mysteries with + three actors which constitute an opera ball, and are known only to those + who play a part in them; for, to young wives who come merely to say, “I + have seen it,” to country people, to inexperienced youths, and to + foreigners, the opera house must on those nights be the palace of fatigue + and dulness. To these, that black swarm, slow and serried—coming, + going, winding, turning, returning, mounting, descending, comparable only + to ants on a pile of wood—is no more intelligible than the Bourse to + a Breton peasant who has never heard of the Grand livre. + </p> + <p> + With a few rare exceptions, men wear no masks in Paris; a man in a domino + is thought ridiculous. In this the spirit of the nation betrays itself. + Men who want to hide their good fortune can enjoy the opera ball without + going there; and masks who are absolutely compelled to go in come out + again at once. One of the most amusing scenes is the crush at the doors + produced as soon as the dancing begins, by the rush of persons getting + away and struggling with those who are pushing in. So the men who wear + masks are either jealous husbands who come to watch their wives, or + husbands on the loose who do not wish to be watched by them—two + situations equally ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Now, our young man was followed, though he knew it not, by a man in a + mask, dogging his steps, short and stout, with a rolling gait, like a + barrel. To every one familiar with the opera this disguise betrayed a + stock-broker, a banker, a lawyer, some citizen soul suspicious of + infidelity. For in fact, in really high society, no one courts such + humiliating proofs. Several masks had laughed as they pointed this + preposterous figure out to each other; some had spoken to him, a few young + men had made game of him, but his stolid manner showed entire contempt for + these aimless shafts; he went on whither the young man led him, as a + hunted wild boar goes on and pays no heed to the bullets whistling about + his ears, or the dogs barking at his heels. + </p> + <p> + Though at first sight pleasure and anxiety wear the same livery—the + noble black robe of Venice—and though all is confusion at an opera + ball, the various circles composing Parisian society meet there, + recognize, and watch each other. There are certain ideas so clear to the + initiated that this scrawled medley of interests is as legible to them as + any amusing novel. So, to these old hands, this man could not be here by + appointment; he would infallibly have worn some token, red, white, or + green, such as notifies a happy meeting previously agreed on. Was it a + case of revenge? + </p> + <p> + Seeing the domino following so closely in the wake of a man apparently + happy in an assignation, some of the gazers looked again at the handsome + face, on which anticipation had set its divine halo. The youth was + interesting; the longer he wandered, the more curiosity he excited. + Everything about him proclaimed the habits of refined life. In obedience + to a fatal law of the time we live in, there is not much difference, + physical or moral, between the most elegant and best bred son of a duke + and peer and this attractive youth, whom poverty had not long since held + in its iron grip in the heart of Paris. Beauty and youth might cover him + in deep gulfs, as in many a young man who longs to play a part in Paris + without having the capital to support his pretensions, and who, day after + day, risks all to win all, by sacrificing to the god who has most votaries + in this royal city, namely, Chance. At the same time, his dress and + manners were above reproach; he trod the classic floor of the opera house + as one accustomed there. Who can have failed to observe that there, as in + every zone in Paris, there is a manner of being which shows who you are, + what you are doing, whence you come, and what you want? + </p> + <p> + “What a handsome young fellow; and here we may turn round to look at him,” + said a mask, in whom accustomed eyes recognized a lady of position. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not remember him?” replied the man on whose arm she was leaning. + “Madame du Chatelet introduced him to you——” + </p> + <p> + “What, is that the apothecary’s son she fancied herself in love with, who + became a journalist, Mademoiselle Coralie’s lover?” + </p> + <p> + “I fancied he had fallen too low ever to pull himself up again, and I + cannot understand how he can show himself again in the world of Paris,” + said the Comte Sixte du Chatelet. + </p> + <p> + “He has the air of a prince,” the mask went on, “and it is not the actress + he lived with who could give it to him. My cousin, who understood him, + could not lick him into shape. I should like to know the mistress of this + Sargine; tell me something about him that will enable me to mystify him.” + </p> + <p> + This couple, whispering as they watched the young man, became the object + of study to the square-shouldered domino. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Monsieur Chardon,” said the Prefet of the Charente, taking the + dandy’s hand, “allow me to introduce you to some one who wishes to renew + acquaintance with you——” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Comte Chatelet,” replied the young man, “that lady taught me how + ridiculous was the name by which you address me. A patent from the king + has restored to me that of my mother’s family—the Rubempres. + Although the fact has been announced in the papers, it relates to so + unimportant a person that I need not blush to recall it to my friends, my + enemies, and those who are neither——You may class yourself + where you will, but I am sure you will not disapprove of a step to which I + was advised by your wife when she was still only Madame de Bargeton.” + </p> + <p> + This neat retort, which made the Marquise smile, gave the Prefet of la + Charente a nervous chill. “You may tell her,” Lucien went on, “that I now + bear gules, a bull raging argent on a meadow vert.” + </p> + <p> + “Raging argent,” echoed Chatelet. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Marquise will explain to you, if you do not know, why that old + coat is a little better than the chamberlain’s key and Imperial gold bees + which you bear on yours, to the great despair of Madame Chatelet, nee + Negrepelisse d’Espard,” said Lucien quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Since you recognize me, I cannot puzzle you; and I could never tell you + how much you puzzle me,” said the Marquise d’Espard, amazed at the + coolness and impertinence to which the man had risen whom she had formerly + despised. + </p> + <p> + “Then allow me, madame, to preserve my only chance of occupying your + thoughts by remaining in that mysterious twilight,” said he, with the + smile of a man who does not wish to risk assured happiness. + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you on your changed fortunes,” said the Comte du Chatelet + to Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “I take it as you offer it,” replied Lucien, bowing with much grace to the + Marquise. + </p> + <p> + “What a coxcomb!” said the Count in an undertone to Madame d’Espard. “He + has succeeded in winning an ancestry.” + </p> + <p> + “With these young men such coxcombry, when it is addressed to us, almost + always implies some success in high places,” said the lady; “for with you + older men it means ill-fortune. And I should very much like to know which + of my grand lady friends has taken this fine bird under her patronage; + then I might find the means of amusing myself this evening. My ticket, + anonymously sent, is no doubt a bit of mischief planned by a rival and + having something to do with this young man. His impertinence is to order; + keep an eye on him. I will take the Duc de Navarrein’s arm. You will be + able to find me again.” + </p> + <p> + Just as Madame d’Espard was about to address her cousin, the mysterious + mask came between her and the Duke to whisper in her ear: + </p> + <p> + “Lucien loves you; he wrote the note. Your Prefet is his greatest foe; how + can he speak in his presence?” + </p> + <p> + The stranger moved off, leaving Madame d’Espard a prey to a double + surprise. The Marquise knew no one in the world who was capable of playing + the part assumed by this mask; she suspected a snare, and went to sit down + out of sight. The Comte Sixte du Chatelet—whom Lucien had abridged + of his ambitious <i>du</i> with an emphasis that betrayed long meditated + revenge—followed the handsome dandy, and presently met a young man + to whom he thought he could speak without reserve. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Rastignac, have you seen Lucien? He has come out in a new skin.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were half as good looking as he is, I should be twice as rich,” + replied the fine gentleman, in a light but meaning tone, expressive of + keen raillery. + </p> + <p> + “No!” said the fat mask in his ear, repaying a thousand ironies in one by + the accent he lent the monosyllable. + </p> + <p> + Rastignac, who was not the man to swallow an affront, stood as if struck + by lightning, and allowed himself to be led into a recess by a grasp of + iron which he could not shake off. + </p> + <p> + “You young cockerel, hatched in Mother Vauquer’s coop—you, whose + heart failed you to clutch old Taillefer’s millions when the hardest part + of the business was done—let me tell you, for your personal safety, + that if you do not treat Lucien like the brother you love, you are in our + power, while we are not in yours. Silence and submission! or I shall join + your game and upset the skittles. Lucien de Rubempre is under the + protection of the strongest power of the day—the Church. Choose + between life and death—Answer.” + </p> + <p> + Rastignac felt giddy, like a man who has slept in a forest and wakes to + see by his side a famishing lioness. He was frightened, and there was no + one to see him; the boldest men yield to fear under such circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “No one but HE can know—or would dare——” he murmured to + himself. + </p> + <p> + The mask clutched his hand tighter to prevent his finishing his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Act as if I were <i>he</i>,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Rastignac then acted like a millionaire on the highroad with a brigand’s + pistol at his head; he surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Count,” said he to du Chatelet, to whom he presently returned, + “if you care for your position in life, treat Lucien de Rubempre as a man + whom you will one day see holding a place far above where you stand.” + </p> + <p> + The mask made a imperceptible gesture of approbation, and went off in + search of Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, you have changed your opinion of him very suddenly,” + replied the Prefet with justifiable surprise. + </p> + <p> + “As suddenly as men change who belong to the centre and vote with the + right,” replied Rastignac to the Prefet-Depute, whose vote had for a few + days failed to support the Ministry. + </p> + <p> + “Are there such things as opinions nowadays? There are only interests,” + observed des Lupeaulx, who had heard them. “What is the case in point?” + </p> + <p> + “The case of the Sieur de Rubempre, whom Rastignac is setting up as a + person of consequence,” said du Chatelet to the Secretary-General. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Count,” replied des Lupeaulx very seriously, “Monsieur de + Rubempre is a young man of the highest merit, and has such good interest + at his back that I should be delighted to renew my acquaintance with him.” + </p> + <p> + “There he is, rushing into the wasps’ nest of the rakes of the day,” said + Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + The three speakers looked towards a corner where a group of recognized + wits had gathered, men of more or less celebrity, and several men of + fashion. These gentlemen made common stock of their jests, their remarks, + and their scandal, trying to amuse themselves till something should amuse + them. Among this strangely mingled party were some men with whom Lucien + had had transactions, combining ostensibly kind offices with covert false + dealing. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! Lucien, my boy, why here we are patched up again—new + stuffing and a new cover. Where have we come from? Have we mounted the + high horse once more with little offerings from Florine’s boudoir? Bravo, + old chap!” and Blondet released Finot to put his arm affectionately around + Lucien and press him to his heart. + </p> + <p> + Andoche Finot was the proprietor of a review on which Lucien had worked + for almost nothing, and to which Blondet gave the benefit of his + collaboration, of the wisdom of his suggestions and the depth of his + views. Finot and Blondet embodied Bertrand and Raton, with this difference—that + la Fontaine’s cat at last showed that he knew himself to be duped, while + Blondet, though he knew that he was being fleeced, still did all he could + for Finot. This brilliant condottiere of the pen was, in fact, long to + remain a slave. Finot hid a brutal strength of will under a heavy + exterior, under polish of wit, as a laborer rubs his bread with garlic. He + knew how to garner what he gleaned, ideas and crown-pieces alike, in the + fields of the dissolute life led by men engaged in letters or in politics. + </p> + <p> + Blondet, for his sins, had placed his powers at the service of Finot’s + vices and idleness. Always at war with necessity, he was one of the race + of poverty-stricken and superior men who can do everything for the fortune + of others and nothing for their own, Aladdins who let other men borrow + their lamp. These excellent advisers have a clear and penetrating judgment + so long as it is not distracted by personal interest. In them it is the + head and not the arm that acts. Hence the looseness of their morality, and + hence the reproach heaped upon them by inferior minds. Blondet would share + his purse with a comrade he had affronted the day before; he would dine, + drink, and sleep with one whom he would demolish on the morrow. His + amusing paradoxes excused everything. Accepting the whole world as a jest, + he did not want to be taken seriously; young, beloved, almost famous and + contented, he did not devote himself, like Finot, to acquiring the fortune + an old man needs. + </p> + <p> + The most difficult form of courage, perhaps, is that which Lucien needed + at this moment to get rid of Blondet as he had just got rid of Madame + d’Espard and Chatelet. In him, unfortunately, the joys of vanity hindered + the exercise of pride—the basis, beyond doubt, of many great things. + His vanity had triumphed in the previous encounter; he had shown himself + as a rich man, happy and scornful, to two persons who had scorned him when + he was poor and wretched. But how could a poet, like an old diplomate, run + the gauntlet with two self-styled friends, who had welcomed him in misery, + under whose roof he had slept in the worst of his troubles? Finot, + Blondet, and he had groveled together; they had wallowed in such orgies as + consume something more than money. Like soldiers who find no market for + their courage, Lucien had just done what many men do in Paris: he had + still further compromised his character by shaking Finot’s hand, and not + rejecting Blondet’s affection. + </p> + <p> + Every man who has dabbled, or still dabbles, in journalism is under the + painful necessity of bowing to men he despises, of smiling at his dearest + foe, of compounding the foulest meanness, of soiling his fingers to pay + his aggressors in their own coin. He becomes used to seeing evil done, and + passing it over; he begins by condoning it, and ends by committing it. In + the long run the soul, constantly strained by shameful and perpetual + compromise, sinks lower, the spring of noble thoughts grows rusty, the + hinges of familiarity wear easy, and turn of their own accord. Alceste + becomes Philinte, natures lose their firmness, talents are perverted, + faith in great deeds evaporates. The man who yearned to be proud of his + work wastes himself in rubbishy articles which his conscience regards, + sooner or later, as so many evil actions. He started, like Lousteau or + Vernou, to be a great writer; he finds himself a feeble scrivener. Hence + it is impossible to honor too highly men whose character stands as high as + their talent—men like d’Arthez, who know how to walk surefooted + across the reefs of literary life. + </p> + <p> + Lucien could make no reply to Blondet’s flattery; his wit had an + irresistible charm for him, and he maintained the hold of the corrupter + over his pupil; besides, he held a position in the world through his + connection with the Comtesse de Montcornet. + </p> + <p> + “Has an uncle left you a fortune?” said Finot, laughing at him. + </p> + <p> + “Like you, I have marked some fools for cutting down,” replied Lucien in + the same tone. + </p> + <p> + “Then Monsieur has a review—a newspaper of his own?” Andoche Finot + retorted, with the impertinent presumption of a chief to a subordinate. + </p> + <p> + “I have something better,” replied Lucien, whose vanity, nettled by the + assumed superiority of his editor, restored him to the sense of his new + position. + </p> + <p> + “What is that, my dear boy?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a party.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a Lucien party?” said Vernou, smiling + </p> + <p> + “Finot, the boy has left you in the lurch; I told you he would. Lucien is + a clever fellow, and you never were respectful to him. You used him as a + hack. Repent, blockhead!” said Blondet. + </p> + <p> + Blondet, as sharp as a needle, could detect more than one secret in + Lucien’s air and manner; while stroking him down, he contrived to tighten + the curb. He meant to know the reasons of Lucien’s return to Paris, his + projects, and his means of living. + </p> + <p> + “On your knees to a superiority you can never attain to, albeit you are + Finot!” he went on. “Admit this gentleman forthwith to be one of the great + men to whom the future belongs; he is one of us! So witty and so handsome, + can he fail to succeed by your quibuscumque viis? Here he stands, in his + good Milan armor, his strong sword half unsheathed, and his pennon flying!—Bless + me, Lucien, where did you steal that smart waistcoat? Love alone can find + such stuff as that. Have you an address? At this moment I am anxious to + know where my friends are domiciled; I don’t know where to sleep. Finot + has turned me out of doors for the night, under the vulgar pretext of ‘a + lady in the case.’” + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” said Lucien, “I put into practice a motto by which you may + secure a quiet life: Fuge, late, tace. I am off.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not off till you pay me a sacred debt—that little supper, + you know, heh?” said Blondet, who was rather too much given to good cheer, + and got himself treated when he was out of funds. + </p> + <p> + “What supper?” asked Lucien with a little stamp of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t remember? In that I recognize my prosperous friend; he has lost + his memory.” + </p> + <p> + “He knows what he owes us; I will go bail for his good heart,” said Finot, + taking up Blondet’s joke. + </p> + <p> + “Rastignac,” said Blondet, taking the young dandy by the arm as he came up + the room to the column where the so-called friends were standing. “There + is a supper in the wind; you will join us—unless,” he added gravely, + turning to Lucien, “Monsieur persists in ignoring a debt of honor. He + can.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Rubempre is incapable of such a thing; I will answer for + him,” said Rastignac, who never dreamed of a practical joke. + </p> + <p> + “And there is Bixiou, he will come too,” cried Blondet; “there is no fun + without him. Without him champagne cloys my tongue, and I find everything + insipid, even the pepper of satire.” + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” said Bixiou, “I see you have gathered round the wonder of + the day. Our dear Lucien has revived the Metamorphoses of Ovid. Just as + the gods used to turn into strange vegetables and other things to seduce + the ladies, he has turned the Chardon (the Thistle) into a gentleman to + bewitch—whom? Charles X.!—My dear boy,” he went on, holding + Lucien by his coat button, “a journalist who apes the fine gentleman + deserves rough music. In their place,” said the merciless jester, as he + pointed to Finot and Vernou, “I should take you up in my society paper; + you would bring in a hundred francs for ten columns of fun.” + </p> + <p> + “Bixiou,” said Blondet, “an Amphitryon is sacred for twenty-four hours + before a feast and twelve hours after. Our illustrious friend is giving us + a supper.” + </p> + <p> + “What then!” cried Bixiou; “what is more imperative than the duty of + saving a great name from oblivion, of endowing the indigent aristocracy + with a man of talent? Lucien, you enjoy the esteem of the press of which + you were a distinguished ornament, and we will give you our support.—Finot, + a paragraph in the ‘latest items’!—Blondet, a little butter on the + fourth page of your paper!—We must advertise the appearance of one + of the finest books of the age, <i>l’Archer de Charles IX.</i>! We will + appeal to Dauriat to bring out as soon as possible <i>les Marguerites</i>, + those divine sonnets by the French Petrarch! We must carry our friend + through on the shield of stamped paper by which reputations are made and + unmade.” + </p> + <p> + “If you want a supper,” said Lucien to Blondet, hoping to rid himself of + this mob, which threatened to increase, “it seems to me that you need not + work up hyperbole and parable to attack an old friend as if he were a + booby. To-morrow night at Lointier’s——” he cried, seeing a + woman come by, whom he rushed to meet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh!” said Bixiou on three notes, with a mocking glance, and + seeming to recognize the mask to whom Lucien addressed himself. “This + needs confirmation.” + </p> + <p> + He followed the handsome pair, got past them, examined them keenly, and + came back, to the great satisfaction of all the envious crowd, who were + eager to learn the source of Lucien’s change of fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Friends,” said Bixiou, “you have long known the goddess of the Sire de + Rubempre’s fortune: She is des Lupeaulx’s former ‘rat.’” + </p> + <p> + A form of dissipation, now forgotten, but still customary at the beginning + of this century, was the keeping of “rats.” The “rat”—a slang word + that has become old-fashioned—was a girl of ten or twelve in the + chorus of some theatre, more particularly at the opera, who was trained by + young roues to vice and infamy. A “rat” was a sort of demon page, a tomboy + who was forgiven a trick if it were but funny. The “rat” might take what + she pleased; she was to be watched like a dangerous animal, and she + brought an element of liveliness into life, like Scapin, Sganarelle, and + Frontin in old-fashioned comedy. But a “rat” was too expensive; it made no + return in honor, profit, or pleasure; the fashion of rats so completely + went out, that in these days few people knew anything of this detail of + fashionable life before the Restoration till certain writers took up the + “rat” as a new subject. + </p> + <p> + “What! after having seen Coralie killed under him, Lucien means to rob us + of La Torpille?” (the torpedo fish) said Blondet. + </p> + <p> + As he heard the name the brawny mask gave a significant start, which, + though repressed, was understood by Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “It is out of the question,” replied Finot; “La Torpille has not a sou to + give away; Nathan tells me she borrowed a thousand francs of Florine.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, gentlemen, gentlemen!” said Rastignac, anxious to defend Lucien + against so odious an imputation. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Vernou, “is Coralie’s kept man likely to be so very + particular?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” replied Bixiou, “those thousand francs prove to me that our friend + Lucien lives with La Torpille——” + </p> + <p> + “What an irreparable loss to literature, science, art, and politics!” + exclaimed Blondet. “La Torpille is the only common prostitute in whom I + ever found the stuff for a superior courtesan; she has not been spoiled by + education—she can neither read nor write, she would have understood + us. We might have given to our era one of those magnificent Aspasias + without which there can be no golden age. See how admirably Madame du + Barry was suited to the eighteenth century, Ninon de l’Enclos to the + seventeenth, Marion Delorme to the sixteenth, Imperia to the fifteenth, + Flora to Republican Rome, which she made her heir, and which paid off the + public debt with her fortune! What would Horace be without Lydia, Tibullus + without Delia, Catullus without Lesbia, Propertius without Cynthia, + Demetrius without Lamia, who is his glory at this day?” + </p> + <p> + “Blondet talking of Demetrius in the opera house seems to me rather too + strong of the <i>Debats</i>,” said Bixiou in his neighbor’s ears. + </p> + <p> + “And where would the empire of the Caesars have been but for these + queens?” Blondet went on; “Lais and Rhodope are Greece and Egypt. They all + indeed are the poetry of the ages in which they lived. This poetry, which + Napoleon lacked—for the Widow of his Great Army is a barrack jest, + was not wanting to the Revolution; it had Madame Tallien! In these days + there is certainly a throne to let in France which is for her who can fill + it. We among us could make a queen. I should have given La Torpille an + aunt, for her mother is too decidedly dead on the field of dishonor; du + Tillet would have given her a mansion, Lousteau a carriage, Rastignac her + footmen, des Lupeaulx a cook, Finot her hats”—Finot could not + suppress a shrug at standing the point-blank fire of this epigram—“Vernou + would have composed her advertisements, and Bixiou her repartees! The + aristocracy would have come to enjoy themselves with our Ninon, where we + would have got artists together, under pain of death by newspaper + articles. Ninon the second would have been magnificently impertinent, + overwhelming in luxury. She would have set up opinions. Some prohibited + dramatic masterpiece should have been read in her drawing-room; it should + have been written on purpose if necessary. She would not have been + liberal; a courtesan is essentially monarchical. Oh, what a loss! She + ought to have embraced her whole century, and she makes love with a little + young man! Lucien will make a sort of hunting-dog of her.” + </p> + <p> + “None of the female powers of whom you speak ever trudged the streets,” + said Finot, “and that pretty little ‘rat’ has rolled in the mire.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a lily-seed in the soil,” replied Vernou, “and she has improved in + it and flowered. Hence her superiority. Must we not have known everything + to be able to create the laughter and joy which are part of everything?” + </p> + <p> + “He is right,” said Lousteau, who had hitherto listened without speaking; + “La Torpille can laugh and make others laugh. That gift of all great + writers and great actors is proper to those who have investigated every + social deep. At eighteen that girl had already known the greatest wealth, + the most squalid misery—men of every degree. She bears about her a + sort of magic wand by which she lets loose the brutal appetites so + vehemently suppressed in men who still have a heart while occupied with + politics or science, literature or art. There is not in Paris another + woman who can say to the beast as she does: ‘Come out!’ And the beast + leaves his lair and wallows in excesses. She feeds you up to the chin, she + helps you to drink and smoke. In short, this woman is the salt of which + Rabelais writes, which, thrown on matter, animates it and elevates it to + the marvelous realms of art; her robe displays unimagined splendor, her + fingers drop gems as her lips shed smiles; she gives the spirit of the + occasion to every little thing; her chatter twinkles with bright sayings, + she has the secret of the quaintest onomatopoeia, full of color, and + giving color; she——” + </p> + <p> + “You are wasting five francs’ worth of copy,” said Bixiou, interrupting + Lousteau. “La Torpille is something far better than all that; you have all + been in love with her more or less, not one of you can say that she ever + was his mistress. She can always command you; you will never command her. + You may force your way in and ask her to do you a service——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she is more generous than a brigand chief who knows his business, and + more devoted than the best of school-fellows,” said Blondet. “You may + trust her with your purse or your secrets. But what made me choose her as + queen is her Bourbon-like indifference for a fallen favorite.” + </p> + <p> + “She, like her mother, is much too dear,” said des Lupeaulx. “The handsome + Dutch woman would have swallowed up the income of the Archbishop of + Toledo; she ate two notaries out of house and home——” + </p> + <p> + “And kept Maxime de Trailles when he was a court page,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “La Torpille is too dear, as Raphael was, or Careme, or Taglioni, or + Lawrence, or Boule, or any artist of genius is too dear,” said Blondet. + </p> + <p> + “Esther never looked so thoroughly a lady,” said Rastignac, pointing to + the masked figure to whom Lucien had given his arm. “I will bet on its + being Madame de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a doubt of it,” cried du Chatelet, “and Monsieur du Rubempre’s + fortune is accounted for.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the Church knows how to choose its Levites; what a sweet ambassador’s + secretary he will make!” remarked des Lupeaulx. + </p> + <p> + “All the more so,” Rastignac went on, “because Lucien is a really clever + fellow. These gentlemen have had proof of it more than once,” and he + turned to Blondet, Finot, and Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the boy is cut out of the right stuff to get on,” said Lousteau, who + was dying of jealousy. “And particularly because he has what we call + independent ideas...” + </p> + <p> + “It is you who trained him,” said Vernou. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Bixiou, looking at des Lupeaulx, “I trust to the memory of + Monsieur the Secretary-General and Master of Appeals—that mask is La + Torpille, and I will stand a supper on it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will hold the stakes,” said du Chatelet, curious to know the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Come, des Lupeaulx,” said Finot, “try to identify your rat’s ears.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need for committing the crime of treason against a mask,” + replied Bixiou. “La Torpille and Lucien must pass us as they go up the + room again, and I pledge myself to prove that it is she.” + </p> + <p> + “So our friend Lucien has come above water once more,” said Nathan, + joining the group. “I thought he had gone back to Angoumois for the rest + of his days. Has he discovered some secret to ruin the English?” + </p> + <p> + “He has done what you will not do in a hurry,” retorted Rastignac; “he has + paid up.” + </p> + <p> + The burly mask nodded in confirmation. + </p> + <p> + “A man who has sown his wild oats at his age puts himself out of court. He + has no pluck; he puts money in the funds,” replied Nathan. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that youngster will always be a fine gentleman, and will always have + such lofty notions as will place him far above many men who think + themselves his betters,” replied Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + At this moment journalists, dandies, and idlers were all examining the + charming subject of their bet as horse-dealers examine a horse for sale. + These connoisseurs, grown old in familiarity with every form of Parisian + depravity, all men of superior talent each his own way, equally corrupt, + equally corrupting, all given over to unbridled ambition, accustomed to + assume and to guess everything, had their eyes centered on a masked woman, + a woman whom no one else could identify. They, and certain habitual + frequenters of the opera balls, could alone recognize under the long + shroud of the black domino, the hood and falling ruff which make the + wearer unrecognizable, the rounded form, the individuality of figure and + gait, the sway of the waist, the carriage of the head—the most + intangible trifles to ordinary eyes, but to them the easiest to discern. + </p> + <p> + In spite of this shapeless wrapper they could watch the most appealing of + dramas, that of a woman inspired by a genuine passion. Were she La + Torpille, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, or Madame de Serizy, on the lowest + or highest rung of the social ladder, this woman was an exquisite + creature, a flash from happy dreams. These old young men, like these young + old men, felt so keen an emotion, that they envied Lucien the splendid + privilege of working such a metamorphosis of a woman into a goddess. The + mask was there as though she had been alone with Lucien; for that woman + the thousand other persons did not exist, nor the evil and dust-laden + atmosphere; no, she moved under the celestial vault of love, as Raphael’s + Madonnas under their slender oval glory. She did not feel herself elbowed; + the fire of her glance shot from the holes in her mask and sank into + Lucien’s eyes; the thrill of her frame seemed to answer to every movement + of her companion. Whence comes this flame that radiates from a woman in + love and distinguishes her above all others? Whence that sylph-like + lightness which seems to negative the laws of gravitation? Is the soul + become ambient? Has happiness a physical effluence? + </p> + <p> + The ingenuousness of a girl, the graces of a child were discernible under + the domino. Though they walked apart, these two beings suggested the + figures of Flora and Zephyr as we see them grouped by the cleverest + sculptors; but they were beyond sculpture, the greatest of the arts; + Lucien and his pretty domino were more like the angels busied with flowers + or birds, which Gian Bellini has placed beneath the effigies of the Virgin + Mother. Lucien and this girl belonged to the realm of fancy, which is as + far above art as cause is above effect. + </p> + <p> + When the domino, forgetful of everything, was within a yard of the group, + Bixiou exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Esther!” + </p> + <p> + The unhappy girl turned her head quickly at hearing herself called, + recognized the mischievous speaker, and bowed her head like a dying + creature that has drawn its last breath. + </p> + <p> + A sharp laugh followed, and the group of men melted among the crowd like a + knot of frightened field-rats whisking into their holes by the roadside. + Rastignac alone went no further than was necessary, just to avoid making + any show of shunning Lucien’s flashing eye. He could thus note two phases + of distress equally deep though unconfessed; first, the hapless Torpille, + stricken as by a lightning stroke, and then the inscrutable mask, the only + one of the group who had remained. Esther murmured a word in Lucien’s ear + just as her knees gave way, and Lucien, supporting her, led her away. + </p> + <p> + Rastignac watched the pretty pair, lost in meditation. + </p> + <p> + “How did she get her name of La Torpille?” asked a gloomy voice that + struck to his vitals, for it was no longer disguised. + </p> + <p> + “<i>He</i> again—he has made his escape!” muttered Rastignac to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Be silent or I murder you,” replied the mask, changing his voice. “I am + satisfied with you, you have kept your word, and there is more than one + arm ready to serve you. Henceforth be as silent as the grave; but, before + that, answer my question.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the girl is such a witch that she could have magnetized the Emperor + Napoleon; she could magnetize a man more difficult to influence—you + yourself,” replied Rastignac, and he turned to go. + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” said the mask; “I will prove to you that you have never seen + me anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker took his mask off; for a moment Rastignac hesitated, + recognizing nothing of the hideous being he had known formerly at Madame + Vauquer’s. + </p> + <p> + “The devil has enabled you to change in every particular, excepting your + eyes, which it is impossible to forget,” said he. + </p> + <p> + The iron hand gripped his arm to enjoin eternal secrecy. + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning des Lupeaulx and Finot found the elegant Rastignac + on the same spot, leaning against the column where the terrible mask had + left him. Rastignac had confessed to himself; he had been at once priest + and pentient, culprit and judge. He allowed himself to be led away to + breakfast, and reached home perfectly tipsy, but taciturn. + </p> + <p> + The Rue de Langlade and the adjacent streets are a blot on the Palais + Royal and the Rue de Rivoli. This portion of one of the handsomest + quarters of Paris will long retain the stain of foulness left by the + hillocks formed of the middens of old Paris, on which mills formerly + stood. These narrow streets, dark and muddy, where such industries are + carried on as care little for appearances wear at night an aspect of + mystery full of contrasts. On coming from the well-lighted regions of the + Rue Saint-Honore, the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs, and the Rue de + Richelieu, where the crowd is constantly pushing, where glitter the + masterpieces of industry, fashion, and art, every man to whom Paris by + night is unknown would feel a sense of dread and melancholy, on finding + himself in the labyrinth of little streets which lie round that blaze of + light reflected even from the sky. Dense blackness is here, instead of + floods of gaslight; a dim oil-lamp here and there sheds its doubtful and + smoky gleam, and many blind alleys are not lighted at all. Foot passengers + are few, and walk fast. The shops are shut, the few that are open are of a + squalid kind; a dirty, unlighted wineshop, or a seller of underclothing + and eau-de-Cologne. An unwholesome chill lays a clammy cloak over your + shoulders. Few carriages drive past. There are sinister places here, + especially the Rue de Langlade, the entrance to the Passage + Saint-Guillaume, and the turnings of some streets. + </p> + <p> + The municipal council has not yet been to purge this vast lazar-place, for + prostitution long since made it its headquarters. It is, perhaps, a good + thing for Paris that these alleys should be allowed to preserve their + filthy aspect. Passing through them by day, it is impossible to imagine + what they become by night; they are pervaded by strange creatures of no + known world; white, half-naked forms cling to the walls—the darkness + is alive. Between the passenger and the wall a dress steals by—a + dress that moves and speaks. Half-open doors suddenly shout with laughter. + Words fall on the ear such as Rabelais speaks of as frozen and melting. + Snatches of songs come up from the pavement. The noise is not vague; it + means something. When it is hoarse it is a voice; but if it suggests a + song, there is nothing human about it, it is more like a croak. Often you + hear a sharp whistle, and then the tap of boot-heels has a peculiarly + aggressive and mocking ring. This medley of things makes you giddy. + Atmospheric conditions are reversed there—it is warm in winter and + cool in summer. + </p> + <p> + Still, whatever the weather, this strange world always wears the same + aspect; it is the fantastic world of Hoffmann of Berlin. The most + mathematical of clerks never thinks of it as real, after returning through + the straits that lead into decent streets, where there are passengers, + shops, and taverns. Modern administration, or modern policy, more scornful + or more shamefaced than the queens and kings of past ages, no longer dare + look boldly in the face of this plague of our capitals. Measures, of + course, must change with the times, and such as bear on individuals and on + their liberty are a ticklish matter; still, we ought, perhaps, to show + some breadth and boldness as to merely material measures—air, light, + and construction. The moralist, the artist, and the sage administrator + alike must regret the old wooden galleries of the Palais Royal, where the + lambs were to be seen who will always be found where there are loungers; + and is it not best that the loungers should go where they are to be found? + What is the consequence? The gayest parts of the Boulevards, that + delightfulest of promenades, are impossible in the evening for a family + party. The police has failed to take advantage of the outlet afforded by + some small streets to purge the main street. + </p> + <p> + The girl whom we have seen crushed by a word at the opera ball had been + for the last month or two living in the Rue de Langlade, in a very + poor-looking house. This structure, stuck on to the wall of an enormously + large one, badly stuccoed, of no depth, and immensely high, has all its + windows on the street, and bears some resemblance to a parrot’s perch. On + each floor are two rooms, let as separate flats. There is a narrow + staircase clinging to the wall, queerly lighted by windows which mark its + ascent on the outer wall, each landing being indicated by a stink, one of + the most odious peculiarities of Paris. The shop and entresol at that time + were tenanted by a tinman; the landlord occupied the first floor; the four + upper stories were rented by very decent working girls, who were treated + by the portress and the proprietor with some consideration and an + obligingness called forth by the difficulty of letting a house so oddly + constructed and situated. The occupants of the quarter are accounted for + by the existence there of many houses of the same character, for which + trade has no use, and which can only be rented by the poorer kinds of + industry, of a precarious or ignominious nature. + </p> + <p> + At three in the afternoon the portress, who had seen Mademoiselle Esther + brought home half dead by a young man at two in the morning, had just held + council with the young woman of the floor above, who, before setting out + in a cab to join some party of pleasure, had expressed her uneasiness + about Esther; she had not heard her move. Esther was, no doubt, still + asleep, but this slumber seemed suspicious. The portress, alone in her + cell, was regretting that she could not go to see what was happening on + the fourth floor, where Mademoiselle Esther lodged. + </p> + <p> + Just as she had made up her mind to leave the tinman’s son in charge of + her room, a sort of den in a recess on the entresol floor, a cab stopped + at the door. A man stepped out, wrapped from head to foot in a cloak + evidently intended to conceal his dress or his rank in life, and asked for + Mademoiselle Esther. The portress at one felt relieved; this accounted for + Esther’s silence and quietude. As the stranger mounted the stairs above + the portress’ room, she noticed silver buckles in his shoes, and fancied + she caught sight of the black fringe of a priest’s sash; she went + downstairs and catechised the driver, who answered without speech, and + again the woman understood. + </p> + <p> + The priest knocked, received no answer, heard a slight gasp, and forced + the door open with a thrust of his shoulder; charity, no doubt lent him + strength, but in any one else it would have been ascribed to practice. He + rushed to the inner room, and there found poor Esther in front of an image + of the Virgin in painted plaster, kneeling, or rather doubled up, on the + floor, her hands folded. The girl was dying. A brazier of burnt charcoal + told the tale of that dreadful morning. The domino cloak and hood were + lying on the ground. The bed was undisturbed. The unhappy creature, + stricken to the heart by a mortal thrust, had, no doubt, made all her + arrangements on her return from the opera. A candle-wick, collapsed in the + pool of grease that filled the candle-sconce, showed how completely her + last meditations had absorbed her. A handkerchief soaked with tears proved + the sincerity of the Magdalen’s despair, while her classic attitude was + that of the irreligious courtesan. This abject repentance made the priest + smile. + </p> + <p> + Esther, unskilled in dying, had left the door open, not thinking that the + air of two rooms would need a larger amount of charcoal to make it + suffocating; she was only stunned by the fumes; the fresh air from the + staircase gradually restored her to a consciousness of her woes. + </p> + <p> + The priest remained standing, lost in gloomy meditation, without being + touched by the girl’s divine beauty, watching her first movements as if + she had been some animal. His eyes went from the crouching figure to the + surrounding objects with evident indifference. He looked at the furniture + in the room; the paved floor, red, polished, and cold, was poorly covered + with a shabby carpet worn to the string. A little bedstead, of painted + wood and old-fashioned shape, was hung with yellow cotton printed with red + stars, one armchair and two small chairs, also of painted wood, and + covered with the same cotton print of which the window-curtains were also + made; a gray wall-paper sprigged with flowers blackened and greasy with + age; a fireplace full of kitchen utensils of the vilest kind, two bundles + of fire-logs; a stone shelf, on which lay some jewelry false and real, a + pair of scissors, a dirty pincushion, and some white scented gloves; an + exquisite hat perched on the water-jug, a Ternaux shawl stopping a hole in + the window, a handsome gown hanging from a nail; a little hard sofa, with + no cushions; broken clogs and dainty slippers, boots that a queen might + have coveted; cheap china plates, cracked or chipped, with fragments of a + past meal, and nickel forks—the plate of the Paris poor; a basket + full of potatoes and dirty linen, with a smart gauze cap on the top; a + rickety wardrobe, with a glass door, open and empty, and on the shelves + sundry pawn-tickets,—this was the medley of things, dismal or + pleasing, abject and handsome, that fell on his eye. + </p> + <p> + These relics of splendor among the potsherds, these household belongings—so + appropriate to the bohemian existence of the girl who knelt stricken in + her unbuttoned garments, like a horse dying in harness under the broken + shafts entangled in the reins—did the whole strange scene suggest + any thoughts to the priest? Did he say to himself that this erring + creature must at least be disinterested to live in such poverty when her + lover was young and rich? Did he ascribe the disorder of the room to the + disorder of her life? Did he feel pity or terror? Was his charity moved? + </p> + <p> + To see him, his arms folded, his brow dark, his lips set, his eye harsh, + any one must have supposed him absorbed in morose feelings of hatred, + considerations that jostled each other, sinister schemes. He was certainly + insensible to the soft roundness of a bosom almost crushed under the + weight of the bowed shoulders, and to the beautiful modeling of the + crouching Venus that was visible under the black petticoat, so closely was + the dying girl curled up. The drooping head which, seen from behind, + showed the white, slender, flexible neck and the fine shoulders of a + well-developed figure, did not appeal to him. He did not raise Esther, he + did not seem to hear the agonizing gasps which showed that she was + returning to life; a fearful sob and a terrifying glance from the girl + were needed before he condescended to lift her, and he carried her to the + bed with an ease that revealed enormous strength. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Love is there, the woman is not far behind,” said the priest with some + bitterness. + </p> + <p> + The victim of Parisian depravity then observed the dress worn by her + deliverer, and said, with a smile like a child’s when it takes possession + of something longed for: + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall not die without being reconciled to Heaven?” + </p> + <p> + “You may yet expiate your sins,” said the priest, moistening her forehead + with water, and making her smell at a cruet of vinegar he found in a + corner. + </p> + <p> + “I feel that life, instead of departing, is rushing in on me,” said she, + after accepting the Father’s care and expressing her gratitude by simple + gestures. This engaging pantomime, such as the Graces might have used to + charm, perfectly justified the nickname given to this strange girl. + </p> + <p> + “Do you feel better?” said the priest, giving her a glass of sugar and + water to drink. + </p> + <p> + This man seemed accustomed to such queer establishments; he knew all about + it. He was quite at home there. This privilege of being everywhere at home + is the prerogative of kings, courtesans, and thieves. + </p> + <p> + “When you feel quite well,” this strange priest went on after a pause, + “you must tell me the reasons which prompted you to commit this last + crime, this attempted suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “My story is very simple, Father,” replied she. “Three months ago I was + living the evil life to which I was born. I was the lowest and vilest of + creatures; now I am only the most unhappy. Excuse me from telling you the + history of my poor mother, who was murdered——” + </p> + <p> + “By a Captain, in a house of ill-fame,” said the priest, interrupting the + penitent. “I know your origin, and I know that if a being of your sex can + ever be excused for leading a life of shame, it is you, who have always + lacked good examples.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I was never baptized, and have no religious teaching.” + </p> + <p> + “All may yet be remedied then,” replied the priest, “provided that your + faith, your repentance, are sincere and without ulterior motive.” + </p> + <p> + “Lucien and God fill my heart,” said she with ingenuous pathos. + </p> + <p> + “You might have said God and Lucien,” answered the priest, smiling. “You + remind me of the purpose of my visit. Omit nothing that concerns that + young man.” + </p> + <p> + “You have come from him?” she asked, with a tender look that would have + touched any other priest! “Oh, he thought I should do it!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the priest; “it is not your death, but your life that we are + interested in. Come, explain your position toward each other.” + </p> + <p> + “In one word,” said she. + </p> + <p> + The poor child quaked at the priest’s stern tone, but as a woman quakes + who has long ceased to be surprised at brutality. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien is Lucien,” said she, “the handsomest young man, the kindest soul + alive; if you know him, my love must seem to you quite natural. I met him + by chance, three months ago, at the Porte-Saint-Martin theatre, where I + went one day when I had leave, for we had a day a week at Madame + Meynardie’s, where I then was. Next day, you understand, I went out + without leave. Love had come into my heart, and had so completely changed + me, that on my return from the theatre I did not know myself: I had a + horror of myself. Lucien would never have known. Instead of telling him + what I was, I gave him my address at these rooms, where a friend of mine + was then living, who was so kind as to give them up to me. I swear on my + sacred word——” + </p> + <p> + “You must not swear.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it swearing to give your sacred word?—Well, from that day I have + worked in this room like a lost creature at shirt-making at twenty-eight + sous apiece, so as to live by honest labor. For a month I have had nothing + to eat but potatoes, that I might keep myself a good girl and worthy of + Lucien, who loves me and respects me as a pattern of virtue. I have made + my declaration before the police to recover my rights, and submitted to + two years’ surveillance. They are ready enough to enter your name on the + lists of disgrace, but make every difficulty about scratching it out + again. All I asked of Heaven was to enable me to keep my resolution. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be nineteen in the month of April; at my age there is still a + chance. It seems to me that I was never born till three months ago.—I + prayed to God every morning that Lucien might never know what my former + life had been. I bought that Virgin you see there, and I prayed to her in + my own way, for I do not know any prayers; I cannot read nor write, and I + have never been into a church; I have never seen anything of God excepting + in processions, out of curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you say to the Virgin?” + </p> + <p> + “I talk to her as I talk to Lucien, with all my soul, till I make him + cry.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so he cries?” + </p> + <p> + “With joy,” said she eagerly, “poor dear boy! We understand each other so + well that we have but one soul! He is so nice, so fond, so sweet in heart + and mind and manners! He says he is a poet; I say he is god.—Forgive + me! You priests, you see, don’t know what love is. But, in fact, only + girls like me know enough of men to appreciate such as Lucien. A Lucien, + you see, is as rare as a woman without sin. When you come across him you + can love no one else; so there! But such a being must have his fellow; so + I want to be worthy to be loved by my Lucien. That is where my trouble + began. Last evening, at the opera, I was recognized by some young men who + have no more feeling than a tiger has pity—for that matter, I could + come round the tiger! The veil of innocence I had tried to wear was worn + off; their laughter pierced my brain and my heart. Do not think you have + saved me; I shall die of grief.” + </p> + <p> + “Your veil of innocence?” said the priest. “Then you have treated Lucien + with the sternest severity?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Father, how can you, who know him, ask me such a question!” she + replied with a smile. “Who can resist a god?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be blasphemous,” said the priest mildly. “No one can be like God. + Exaggeration is out of place with true love; you had not a pure and + genuine love for your idol. If you had undergone the conversion you boast + of having felt, you would have acquired the virtues which are a part of + womanhood; you would have known the charm of chastity, the refinements of + modesty, the two virtues that are the glory of a maiden.—You do not + love.” + </p> + <p> + Esther’s gesture of horror was seen by the priest, but it had no effect on + the impassibility of her confessor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; for you love him for yourself and not for himself, for the temporal + enjoyments that delight you, and not for love itself. If he has thus taken + possession of you, you cannot have felt that sacred thrill that is + inspired by a being on whom God has set the seal of the most adorable + perfections. Has it never occurred to you that you would degrade him by + your past impurity, that you would corrupt a child by the overpowering + seductions which earned you your nickname glorious in infamy? You have + been illogical with yourself, and your passion of a day——” + </p> + <p> + “Of a day?” she repeated, raising her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “By what other name can you call a love that is not eternal, that does not + unite us in the future life of the Christian, to the being we love?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I will be a Catholic!” she cried in a hollow, vehement tone, that + would have earned her the mercy of the Lord. + </p> + <p> + “Can a girl who has received neither the baptism of the Church nor that of + knowledge; who can neither read, nor write, nor pray; who cannot take a + step without the stones in the street rising up to accuse her; noteworthy + only for the fugitive gift of beauty which sickness may destroy to-morrow; + can such a vile, degraded creature, fully aware too of her degradation—for + if you had been ignorant of it and less devoted, you would have been more + excusable—can the intended victim to suicide and hell hope to be the + wife of Lucien de Rubempre?” + </p> + <p> + Every word was a poniard thrust piercing the depths of her heart. At every + word the louder sobs and abundant tears of the desperate girl showed the + power with which light had flashed upon an intelligence as pure as that of + a savage, upon a soul at length aroused, upon a nature over which + depravity had laid a sheet of foul ice now thawed in the sunshine of + faith. + </p> + <p> + “Why did I not die!” was the only thought that found utterance in the + midst of a torrent of ideas that racked and ravaged her brain. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” said the terrible judge, “there is a love which is + unconfessed before men, but of which the secret is received by the angels + with smiles of gladness.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Love without hope, when it inspires our life, when it fills us with the + spirit of sacrifice, when it ennobles every act by the thought of reaching + some ideal perfection. Yes, the angels approve of such love; it leads to + the knowledge of God. To aim at perfection in order to be worthy of the + one you love, to make for him a thousand secret sacrifices, adoring him + from afar, giving your blood drop by drop, abnegating your self-love, + never feeling any pride or anger as regards him, even concealing from him + all knowledge of the dreadful jealousy he fires in your heart, giving him + all he wishes were it to your own loss, loving what he loves, always + turning your face to him to follow him without his knowing it—such + love as that religion would have forgiven; it is no offence to laws human + or divine, and would have led you into another road than that of your foul + voluptuousness.” + </p> + <p> + As she heard this horrible verdict, uttered in a word—and such a + word! and spoken in such a tone!—Esther’s spirit rose up in fairly + legitimate distrust. This word was like a thunder-clap giving warning of a + storm about to break. She looked at the priest, and felt the grip on her + vitals which wrings the bravest when face to face with sudden and imminent + danger. No eye could have read what was passing in this man’s mind; but + the boldest would have found more to quail at than to hope for in the + expression of his eyes, once bright and yellow like those of a tiger, but + now shrouded, from austerities and privations, with a haze like that which + overhangs the horizon in the dog-days, when, though the earth is hot and + luminous, the mist makes it indistinct and dim—almost invisible. + </p> + <p> + The gravity of a Spaniard, the deep furrows which the myriad scars of + virulent smallpox made hideously like broken ruts, were ploughed into his + face, which was sallow and tanned by the sun. The hardness of this + countenance was all the more conspicuous, being framed in the meagre dry + wig of a priest who takes no care of his person, a black wig looking rusty + in the light. His athletic frame, his hands like an old soldier’s, his + broad, strong shoulders were those of the Caryatides which the architects + of the Middle Ages introduced into some Italian palaces, remotely imitated + in those of the front of the Porte-Saint-Martin theatre. The least + clear-sighted observer might have seen that fiery passions or some + unwonted accident must have thrown this man into the bosom of the Church; + certainly none but the most tremendous shocks of lightning could have + changed him, if indeed such a nature were susceptible of change. + </p> + <p> + Women who have lived the life that Esther had so violently repudiated come + to feel absolute indifference as to the critics of our day, who may be + compared with them in some respects, and who feel at last perfect + disregard of the formulas of art; they have read so many books, they see + so many pass away, they are so much accustomed to written pages, they have + gone through so many plots, they have seen so many dramas, they have + written so many articles without saying what they meant, and have so often + been treasonable to the cause of Art in favor of their personal likings + and aversions, that they acquire a feeling of disgust of everything, and + yet continue to pass judgment. It needs a miracle to make such a writer + produce sound work, just as it needs another miracle to give birth to pure + and noble love in the heart of a courtesan. + </p> + <p> + The tone and manner of this priest, who seemed to have escaped from a + picture by Zurbaran, struck this poor girl as so hostile, little as + externals affected her, that she perceived herself to be less the object + of his solitude than the instrument he needed for some scheme. Being + unable to distinguish between the insinuating tongue of personal interest + and the unction of true charity, for we must be acutely awake to recognize + false coin when it is offered by a friend, she felt herself, as it were, + in the talons of some fierce and monstrous bird of prey who, after + hovering over her for long, had pounced down on her; and in her terror she + cried in a voice of alarm: + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was a priest’s duty to console us, and you are killing me!” + </p> + <p> + At this innocent outcry the priest started and paused; he meditated a + moment before replying. During that instant the two persons so strangely + brought together studied each other cautiously. The priest understood the + girl, though the girl could not understand the priest. + </p> + <p> + He, no doubt, put aside some plan which had threatened the unhappy Esther, + and came back to his first ideas. + </p> + <p> + “We are physicians of the soul,” said he, in a mild voice, “and we know + what remedies suit their maladies.” + </p> + <p> + “Much must be forgiven to the wretched,” said Esther. + </p> + <p> + She fancied she had been wrong; she slipped off the bed, threw herself at + the man’s feet, kissed his gown with deep humility, and looked up at him + with eyes full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had done so much!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, my child. Your terrible reputation has cast Lucien’s family into + grief. They are afraid, and not without reason, that you may lead him into + dissipation, into endless folly——” + </p> + <p> + “That is true; it was I who got him to the ball to mystify him.” + </p> + <p> + “You are handsome enough to make him wish to triumph in you in the eyes of + the world, to show you with pride, and make you an object for display. And + if he wasted money only!—but he will waste his time, his powers; he + will lose his inclination for the fine future his friends can secure to + him. Instead of being some day an ambassador, rich, admired and + triumphant, he, like so many debauchees who choke their talents in the mud + of Paris, will have been the lover of a degraded woman. + </p> + <p> + “As for you, after rising for a time to the level of a sphere of elegance, + you will presently sink back to your former life, for you have not in you + the strength bestowed by a good education to enable you to resist vice and + think of the future. You would no more be able to break with the women of + your own class than you have broken with the men who shamed you at the + opera this morning. Lucien’s true friends, alarmed by his passion for you, + have dogged his steps and know all. Filled with horror, they have sent me + to you to sound your views and decide your fate; but though they are + powerful enough to clear a stumbling-stone out of the young man’s way, + they are merciful. Understand this, child: a girl whom Lucien loves has + claims on their regard, as a true Christian worships the slough on which, + by chance, the divine light falls. I came to be the instrument of a + beneficent purpose;—still, if I had found you utterly reprobate, + armed with effrontery and astuteness, corrupt to the marrow, deaf to the + voice of repentance, I should have abandoned you to their wrath. + </p> + <p> + “The release, civil and political, which it is so hard to win, which the + police is so right to withhold for a time in the interests of society, and + which I heard you long for with all the ardor of true repentance—is + here,” said the priest, taking an official-looking paper out of his belt. + “You were seen yesterday, this letter of release is dated to-day. You see + how powerful the people are who take an interest in Lucien.” + </p> + <p> + At the sight of this document Esther was so ingenuously overcome by the + convulsive agitation produced by unlooked-for joy, that a fixed smile + parted her lips, like that of a crazy creature. The priest paused, looking + at the girl to see whether, when once she had lost the horrible strength + which corrupt natures find in corruption itself, and was thrown back on + her frail and delicate primitive nature, she could endure so much + excitement. If she had been a deceitful courtesan, Esther would have acted + a part; but now that she was innocent and herself once more, she might + perhaps die, as a blind man cured may lose his sight again if he is + exposed to too bright a light. At this moment this man looked into the + very depths of human nature, but his calmness was terrible in its + rigidity; a cold alp, snow-bound and near to heaven, impenetrable and + frowning, with flanks of granite, and yet beneficent. + </p> + <p> + Such women are essentially impressionable beings, passing without reason + from the most idiotic distrust to absolute confidence. In this respect + they are lower than animals. Extreme in everything—in their joy and + despair, in their religion and irreligion—they would almost all go + mad if they were not decimated by the mortality peculiar to their class, + and if happy chances did not lift one now and then from the slough in + which they dwell. To understand the very depths of the wretchedness of + this horrible existence, one must know how far in madness a creature can + go without remaining there, by studying La Torpille’s violent ecstasy at + the priest’s feet. The poor girl gazed at the paper of release with an + expression which Dante has overlooked, and which surpassed the + inventiveness of his Inferno. But a reaction came with tears. Esther rose, + threw her arms round the priest’s neck, laid her head on his breast, which + she wetted with her weeping, kissing the coarse stuff that covered that + heart of steel as if she fain would touch it. She seized hold of him; she + covered his hands with kisses; she poured out in a sacred effusion of + gratitude her most coaxing caresses, lavished fond names on him, saying + again and again in the midst of her honeyed words, “Let me have it!” in a + thousand different tones of voice; she wrapped him in tenderness, covered + him with her looks with a swiftness that found him defenceless; at last + she charmed away his wrath. + </p> + <p> + The priest perceived how well the girl had deserved her nickname; he + understood how difficult it was to resist this bewitching creature; he + suddenly comprehended Lucien’s love, and just what must have fascinated + the poet. Such a passion hides among a thousand temptations a dart-like + hook which is most apt to catch the lofty soul of an artist. These + passions, inexplicable to the vulgar, are perfectly accounted for by the + thirst for ideal beauty, which is characteristic of a creative mind. For + are we not, in some degree, akin to the angels, whose task it is to bring + the guilty to a better mind? are we not creative when we purify such a + creature? How delightful it is to harmonize moral with physical beauty! + What joy and pride if we succeed! How noble a task is that which has no + instrument but love! + </p> + <p> + Such alliances, made famous by the example of Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, + Alcibiades, Cethegus, and Pompey, and yet so monstrous in the eyes of the + vulgar, are based on the same feeling that prompted Louis XIV. to build + Versailles, or that makes men rush into any ruinous enterprise—into + converting the miasma of a marsh into a mass of fragrance surrounded by + living waters; placing a lake at the top of a hill, as the Prince de Conti + did at Nointel; or producing Swiss scenery at Cassan, like Bergeret, the + farmer-general. In short, it is the application of art in the realm of + morals. + </p> + <p> + The priest, ashamed of having yielded to this weakness, hastily pushed + Esther away, and she sat down quite abashed, for he said: + </p> + <p> + “You are still the courtesan.” And he calmly replaced the paper in his + sash. + </p> + <p> + Esther, like a child who has a single wish in its head, kept her eyes + fixed on the spot where the document lay hidden. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” the priest went on after a pause, “your mother was a Jewess, + and you have not been baptized; but, on the other hand, you have never + been taken to the synagogue. You are in the limbo where little children + are——” + </p> + <p> + “Little children!” she echoed, in a tenderly pathetic tone. + </p> + <p> + “As you are on the books of the police, a cipher outside the pale of + social beings,” the priest went on, unmoved. “If love, seen as it swept + past, led you to believe three months since that you were then born, you + must feel that since that day you have been really an infant. You must, + therefore, be led as if you were a child; you must be completely changed, + and I will undertake to make you unrecognizable. To begin with, you must + forget Lucien.” + </p> + <p> + The words crushed the poor girl’s heart; she raised her eyes to the priest + and shook her head; she could not speak, finding the executioner in the + deliverer again. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, you must give up seeing him,” he went on. “I will take you + to a religious house where young girls of the best families are educated; + there you will become a Catholic, you will be trained in the practice of + Christian exercises, you will be taught religion. You may come out an + accomplished young lady, chaste, pure, well brought up, if——” + The man lifted up a finger and paused. + </p> + <p> + “If,” he went on, “you feel brave enough to leave the ‘Torpille’ behind + you here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried the poor thing, to whom each word had been like a note of some + melody to which the gates of Paradise were slowly opening. “Ah! if it were + possible to shed all my blood here and have it renewed!” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Your future fate depends on your power of forgetting. Think of the extent + to which you pledge yourself. A word, a gesture, which betrays La Torpille + will kill Lucien’s wife. A word murmured in a dream, an involuntary + thought, an immodest glance, a gesture of impatience, a reminiscence of + dissipation, an omission, a shake of the head that might reveal what you + know, or what is known about you for your woes——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Father,” said the girl, with the exaltation of a saint. “To + walk in shoes of red-hot iron and smile, to live in a pair of stays set + with nails and maintain the grace of a dancer, to eat bread salted with + ashes, to drink wormwood,—all will be sweet and easy!” + </p> + <p> + She fell again on her knees, she kissed the priest’s shoes, she melted + into tears that wetted them, she clasped his knees, and clung to them, + murmuring foolish words as she wept for joy. Her long and beautiful light + hair waved to the ground, a sort of carpet under the feet of the celestial + messenger, whom she saw as gloomy and hard as ever when she lifted herself + up and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “What have I done to offend you?” cried she, quite frightened. “I have + heard of a woman, such as I am, who washed the feet of Jesus with + perfumes. Alas! virtue has made me so poor that I have nothing but tears + to offer you.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you not understood?” he answered, in a cruel voice. “I tell you, you + must be able to come out of the house to which I shall take you so + completely changed, physically and morally, that no man or woman you have + ever known will be able to call you ‘Esther’ and make you look round. + Yesterday your love could not give you strength enough so completely to + bury the prostitute that she could never reappear; and again to-day she + revives in adoration which is due to none but God.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it not He who sent you to me?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “If during the course of your education you should even see Lucien, all + would be lost,” he went on; “remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “Who will comfort him?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “What was it that you comforted him for?” asked the priest, in a tone in + which, for the first time during this scene, there was a nervous quaver. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know; he was often sad when he came.” + </p> + <p> + “Sad!” said the priest. “Did he tell you why?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” answered she. + </p> + <p> + “He was sad at loving such a girl as you!” exclaimed he. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! and well he might be,” said she, with deep humility. “I am the most + despicable creature of my sex, and I could find favor in his eyes only by + the greatness of my love.” + </p> + <p> + “That love must give you the courage to obey me blindly. If I were to take + you straight from hence to the house where you are to be educated, + everybody here would tell Lucien that you had gone away to-day, Sunday, + with a priest; he might follow in your tracks. In the course of a week, + the portress, not seeing me again, might suppose me to be what I am not. + So, one evening—this day week—at seven o’clock, go out quietly + and get into a cab that will be waiting for you at the bottom of the Rue + des Frondeurs. During this week avoid Lucien, find excuses, have him sent + from the door, and if he should come in, go up to some friend’s room. I + shall know if you have seen him, and in that event all will be at an end. + I shall not even come back. These eight days you will need to make up some + suitable clothing and to hide your look of a prostitute,” said he, laying + a purse on the chimney-shelf. “There is something in your manner, in your + clothes—something indefinable which is well known to Parisians, and + proclaims you what you are. Have you never met in the streets or on the + Boulevards a modest and virtuous girl walking with her mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, to my sorrow! The sight of a mother and daughter is one of our + most cruel punishments; it arouses the remorse that lurks in the innermost + folds of our hearts, and that is consuming us.—I know too well all I + lack.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you know how you should look next Sunday,” said the priest, + rising. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said she, “teach me one real prayer before you go, that I may pray + to God.” + </p> + <p> + It was a touching thing to see the priest making this girl repeat Ave <i>Maria</i> + and <i>Paternoster</i> in French. + </p> + <p> + “That is very fine!” said Esther, when she had repeated these two grand + and universal utterances of the Catholic faith without making a mistake. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” she asked the priest when he took leave of her. + </p> + <p> + “Carlos Herrera; I am a Spaniard banished from my country.” + </p> + <p> + Esther took his hand and kissed it. She was no longer the courtesan; she + was an angel rising after a fall. + </p> + <p> + In a religious institution, famous for the aristocratic and pious teaching + imparted there, one Monday morning in the beginning of March 1824 the + pupils found their pretty flock increased by a newcomer, whose beauty + triumphed without dispute not only over that of her companions, but over + the special details of beauty which were found severally in perfection in + each one of them. In France it is extremely rare, not to say impossible, + to meet with the thirty points of perfection, described in Persian verse, + and engraved, it is said, in the Seraglio, which are needed to make a + woman absolutely beautiful. Though in France the whole is seldom seen, we + find exquisite parts. As to that imposing union which sculpture tries to + produce, and has produced in a few rare examples like the Diana and the + Callipyge, it is the privileged possession of Greece and Asia Minor. + </p> + <p> + Esther came from that cradle of the human race; her mother was a Jewess. + The Jews, though so often deteriorated by their contact with other + nations, have, among their many races, families in which this sublime type + of Asiatic beauty has been preserved. When they are not repulsively + hideous, they present the splendid characteristics of Armenian beauty. + Esther would have carried off the prize at the Seraglio; she had the + thirty points harmoniously combined. Far from having damaged the finish of + her modeling and the freshness of her flesh, her strange life had given + her the mysterious charm of womanhood; it is no longer the close, waxy + texture of green fruit and not yet the warm glow of maturity; there is + still the scent of the flower. A few days longer spent in dissolute + living, and she would have been too fat. This abundant health, this + perfection of the animal in a being in whom voluptuousness took the place + of thought, must be a remarkable fact in the eyes of physiologists. A + circumstance so rare, that it may be called impossible in very young + girls, was that her hands, incomparably fine in shape, were as soft, + transparent, and white as those of a woman after the birth of her second + child. She had exactly the hair and the foot for which the Duchesse de + Berri was so famous, hair so thick that no hairdresser could gather it + into his hand, and so long that it fell to the ground in rings; for Esther + was of that medium height which makes a woman a sort of toy, to be taken + up and set down, taken up again and carried without fatigue. Her skin, as + fine as rice-paper, of a warm amber hue showing the purple veins, was + satiny without dryness, soft without being clammy. + </p> + <p> + Esther, excessively strong though apparently fragile, arrested attention + by one feature that is conspicuous in the faces in which Raphael has shown + his most artistic feeling, for Raphael is the painter who has most studied + and best rendered Jewish beauty. This remarkable effect was produced by + the depth of the eye-socket, under which the eye moved free from its + setting; the arch of the brow was so accurate as to resemble the groining + of a vault. When youth lends this beautiful hollow its pure and diaphanous + coloring, and edges it with closely-set eyebrows, when the light stealing + into the circular cavity beneath lingers there with a rosy hue, there are + tender treasures in it to delight a lover, beauties to drive a painter to + despair. Those luminous curves, where the shadows have a golden tone, that + tissue as firm as a sinew and as mobile as the most delicate membrane, is + a crowning achievement of nature. The eye at rest within is like a + miraculous egg in a nest of silken wings. But as time goes on this marvel + acquires a dreadful melancholy, when passions have laid dark smears on + those fine forms, when grief had furrowed that network of delicate veins. + Esther’s nationality proclaimed itself in this Oriental modeling of her + eyes with their Turkish lids; their color was a slate-gray which by night + took on the blue sheen of a raven’s wing. It was only the extreme + tenderness of her expression that could moderate their fire. + </p> + <p> + Only those races that are native to deserts have in the eye the power of + fascinating everybody, for any woman can fascinate some one person. Their + eyes preserve, no doubt, something of the infinitude they have gazed on. + Has nature, in her foresight, armed their retina with some reflecting + background to enable them to endure the mirage of the sand, the torrents + of sunshine, and the burning cobalt of the sky? or, do human beings, like + other creatures, derive something from the surroundings among which they + grow up, and preserve for ages the qualities they have imbibed from them? + The great solution of this problem of race lies perhaps in the question + itself. Instincts are living facts, and their cause dwells in past + necessity. Variety in animals is the result of the exercise of these + instincts. + </p> + <p> + To convince ourselves of this long-sought-for truth, it is enough to + extend to the herd of mankind the observation recently made on flocks of + Spanish and English sheep which, in low meadows where pasture is abundant, + feed side by side in close array, but on mountains, where grass is scarce, + scatter apart. Take these two kinds of sheep, transfer them to Switzerland + or France; the mountain breeds will feed apart even in a lowland meadow of + thick grass, the lowland sheep will keep together even on an alp. Hardly + will a succession of generations eliminate acquired and transmitted + instincts. After a century the highland spirit reappears in a refractory + lamb, just as, after eighteen centuries of exile, the spirit of the East + shone in Esther’s eyes and features. + </p> + <p> + Her look had no terrible fascination; it shed a mild warmth, it was + pathetic without being startling, and the sternest wills were melted in + its flame. Esther had conquered hatred, she had astonished the depraved + souls of Paris; in short, that look and the softness of her skin had + earned her the terrible nickname which had just led her to the verge of + the grave. Everything about her was in harmony with these characteristics + of the Peri of the burning sands. Her forehead was firmly and proudly + molded. Her nose, like that of the Arab race, was delicate and narrow, + with oval nostrils well set and open at the base. Her mouth, fresh and + red, was a rose unblemished by a flaw, dissipation had left no trace + there. Her chin, rounded as though some amorous sculptor had polished its + fulness, was as white as milk. One thing only that she had not been able + to remedy betrayed the courtesan fallen very low: her broken nails, which + needed time to recover their shape, so much had they been spoiled by the + vulgarest household tasks. + </p> + <p> + The young boarders began by being jealous of these marvels of beauty, but + they ended by admiring them. Before the first week was at an end they were + all attached to the artless Jewess, for they were interested in the + unknown misfortunes of a girl of eighteen who could neither read nor + write, to whom all knowledge and instruction were new, and who was to earn + for the Archbishop the triumph of having converted a Jewess to Catholicism + and giving the convent a festival in her baptism. They forgave her beauty, + finding themselves her superiors in education. + </p> + <p> + Esther very soon caught the manners, the accent, the carriage and + attitudes of these highly-bred girls; in short, her first nature + reasserted itself. The change was so complete that on his first visit + Herrera was astonished as it would seem—and the Mother Superior + congratulated him on his ward. Never in their existence as teachers had + these sisters met with a more charming nature, more Christian meekness, + true modesty, nor a greater eagerness to learn. When a girl has suffered + such misery as had overwhelmed this poor child, and looks forward to such + a reward as the Spaniard held out to Esther, it is hard if she does not + realize the miracles of the early Church which the Jesuits revived in + Paraguay. + </p> + <p> + “She is edifying,” said the Superior, kissing her on the brow. + </p> + <p> + And this essentially Catholic word tells all. + </p> + <p> + In recreation hours Esther would question her companions, but discreetly, + as to the simplest matters in fashionable life, which to her were like the + first strange ideas of life to a child. When she heard that she was to be + dressed in white on the day of her baptism and first Communion, that she + should wear a white satin fillet, white bows, white shoes, white gloves, + and white rosettes in her hair, she melted into tears, to the amazement of + her companions. It was the reverse of the scene of Jephtha on the + mountain. The courtesan was afraid of being understood; she ascribed this + dreadful dejection to the joy with which she looked forward to the + function. As there is certainly as wide a gulf between the habits she had + given up and the habits she was acquiring as there is between the savage + state and civilization, she had the grace and simplicity and depth which + distinguished the wonderful heroine of the American Puritans. She had too, + without knowing it, a love that was eating out her heart—a strange + love, a desire more violent in her who knew everything than it can be in a + maiden who knows nothing, though the two forms of desire have the same + cause, and the same end in view. + </p> + <p> + During the first few months the novelty of a secluded life, the surprises + of learning, the handiworks she was taught, the practices of religion, the + fervency of a holy resolve, the gentle affections she called forth, and + the exercise of the faculties of her awakened intelligence, all helped to + repress her memory, even the effort she made to acquire a new one, for she + had as much to unlearn as to learn. There is more than one form of memory: + the body and mind have each their own; home-sickness, for instance, is a + malady of the physical memory. Thus, during the third month, the vehemence + of this virgin soul, soaring to Paradise on outspread wings, was not + indeed quelled, but fettered by a dull rebellion, of which Esther herself + did not know the cause. Like the Scottish sheep, she wanted to pasture in + solitude, she could not conquer the instincts begotten of debauchery. + </p> + <p> + Was it that the foul ways of the Paris she had abjured were calling her + back to them? Did the chains of the hideous habits she had renounced cling + to her by forgotten rivets, and was she feeling them, as old soldiers + suffer still, the surgeons tell us, in the limbs they have lost? Had vice + and excess so soaked into her marrow that holy waters had not yet + exorcised the devil lurking there? Was the sight of him for whom her + angelic efforts were made, necessary to the poor soul, whom God would + surely forgive for mingling human and sacred love? One had led to the + other. Was there some transposition of the vital force in her involving + her in inevitable suffering? Everything is doubtful and obscure in a case + which science scorns to study, regarding the subject as too immoral and + too compromising, as if the physician and the writer, the priest and the + political student, were not above all suspicion. However, a doctor who was + stopped by death had the courage to begin an investigation which he left + unfinished. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the dark depression to which Esther fell a victim, and which cast + a gloom over her happy life, was due to all these causes; and perhaps, + unable as she was to suspect them herself, she suffered as sick creatures + suffer who know nothing of medicine or surgery. + </p> + <p> + The fact is strange. Wholesome and abundant food in the place of bad and + inflammatory nourishment did not sustain Esther. A pure and regular life, + divided between recreation and studies intentionally abridged, taking the + place of a disorderly existence of which the pleasures and the pains were + equally horrible, exhausted the convent-boarder. The coolest rest, the + calmest nights, taking the place of crushing fatigue and the most + torturing agitation, gave her low fever, in which the common symptoms were + imperceptible to the nursing Sister’s eye or finger. In fact, virtue and + happiness following on evil and misfortune, security in the stead of + anxiety, were as fatal to Esther as her past wretchedness would have been + to her young companions. Planted in corruption, she had grown up in it. + That infernal home still had a hold on her, in spite of the commands of a + despotic will. What she loathed was life to her, what she loved was + killing her. + </p> + <p> + Her faith was so ardent that her piety was a delight to those about her. + She loved to pray. She had opened her spirit to the lights of true + religion, and received it without an effort or a doubt. The priest who was + her director was delighted with her. Still, at every turn her body + resisted the spirit. + </p> + <p> + To please a whim of Madame de Maintenon’s, who fed them with scraps from + the royal table, some carp were taken out of a muddy pool and placed in a + marble basin of bright, clean water. The carp perished. The animals might + be sacrificed, but man could never infect them with the leprosy of + flattery. A courtier remarked at Versailles on this mute resistance. “They + are like me,” said the uncrowned queen; “they pine for their obscure mud.” + </p> + <p> + This speech epitomizes Esther’s story. + </p> + <p> + At times the poor girl was driven to run about the splendid convent + gardens; she hurried from tree to tree, she rushed into the darkest nooks—seeking? + What? She did not know, but she fell a prey to the demon; she carried on a + flirtation with the trees, she appealed to them in unspoken words. + Sometimes, in the evening, she stole along under the walls, like a snake, + without any shawl over her bare shoulders. Often in chapel, during the + service, she remained with her eyes fixed on the Crucifix, melted to + tears; the others admired her; but she was crying with rage. Instead of + the sacred images she hoped to see, those glaring nights when she had led + some orgy as Habeneck leads a Beethoven symphony at the Conservatoire—nights + of laughter and lasciviousness, with vehement gestures, inextinguishable + laughter, rose before her, frenzied, furious, and brutal. She was as mild + to look upon as a virgin that clings to earth only by her woman’s shape; + within raged an imperial Messalina. + </p> + <p> + She alone knew the secret of this struggle between the devil and the + angel. When the Superior reproved her for having done her hair more + fashionably than the rule of the House allowed, she altered it with prompt + and beautiful submission; she would have cut her hair off if the Mother + had required it of her. This moral home-sickness was truly pathetic in a + girl who would rather have perished than have returned to the depths of + impurity. She grew pale and altered and thin. The Superior gave her + shorter lessons, and called the interesting creature to her room to + question her. But Esther was happy; she enjoyed the society of her + companions; she felt no pain in any vital part; still, it was vitality + itself that was attacked. She regretted nothing; she wanted nothing. The + Superior, puzzled by her boarder’s answers, did not know what to think + when she saw her pining under consuming debility. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was called in when the girl’s condition seemed serious; but + this doctor knew nothing of Esther’s previous life, and could not guess + it; he found every organ sound, the pain could not be localized. The + invalid’s replies were such as to upset every hypothesis. There remained + one way of clearing up the learned man’s doubts, which now lighted on a + frightful suggestion; but Esther obstinately refused to submit to a + medical examination. + </p> + <p> + In this difficulty the Superior appealed to the Abbe Herrera. The Spaniard + came, saw that Esther’s condition was desperate, and took the physician + aside for a moment. After this confidential interview, the man of science + told the man of faith that the only cure lay in a journey to Italy. The + Abbe would not hear of such a journey before Esther’s baptism and first + Communion. + </p> + <p> + “How long will it be till then?” asked the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “A month,” replied the Superior. + </p> + <p> + “She will be dead,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but in a state of grace and salvation,” said the Abbe. + </p> + <p> + In Spain the religious question is supreme, above all political, civil, or + vital considerations; so the physician did not answer the Spaniard. He + turned to the Mother Superior, but the terrible Abbe took him by the arm + and stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word, monsieur!” said he. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, though a religious man and a Monarchist, looked at Esther with + an expression of tender pity. The girl was as lovely as a lily drooping on + its stem. + </p> + <p> + “God help her, then!” he exclaimed as he went away. + </p> + <p> + On the very day of this consultation, Esther was taken by her protector to + the <i>Rocher de Cancale</i>, a famous restaurant, for his wish to save + her had suggested strange expedients to the priest. He tried the effect of + two excesses—an excellent dinner, which might remind the poor child + of past orgies; and the opera, which would give her mind some images of + worldliness. His despotic authority was needed to tempt the young saint to + such profanation. Herrera disguised himself so effectually as a military + man, that Esther hardly recognized him; he took care to make his companion + wear a veil, and put her in a box where she was hidden from all eyes. + </p> + <p> + This palliative, which had no risks for innocence so sincerely regained, + soon lost its effect. The convent-boarder viewed her protector’s dinners + with disgust, had a religious aversion for the theatre, and relapsed into + melancholy. + </p> + <p> + “She is dying of love for Lucien,” said Herrera to himself; he had wanted + to sound the depths of this soul, and know how much could be exacted from + it. + </p> + <p> + So the moment came when the poor child was no longer upheld by moral + force, and the body was about to break down. The priest calculated the + time with the hideous practical sagacity formerly shown by executioners in + the art of torture. He found his protegee in the garden, sitting on a + bench under a trellis on which the April sun fell gently; she seemed to be + cold and trying to warm herself; her companions looked with interest at + her pallor as of a folded plant, her eyes like those of a dying gazelle, + her drooping attitude. Esther rose and went to meet the Spaniard with a + lassitude that showed how little life there was in her, and, it may be + added, how little care to live. This hapless outcast, this wild and + wounded swallow, moved Carlos Herrera to compassion for the second time. + The gloomy minister, whom God should have employed only to carry out His + revenges, received the sick girl with a smile, which expressed, indeed, as + much bitterness as sweetness, as much vengeance as charity. Esther, + practised in meditation, and used to revulsions of feeling since she had + led this almost monastic life, felt on her part, for the second time, + distrust of her protector; but, as on the former occasion, his speech + reassured her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear child,” said he, “and why have you never spoken to me of + Lucien?” + </p> + <p> + “I promised you,” she said, shuddering convulsively from head to foot; “I + swore to you that I would never breathe his name.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you have not ceased to think of him.” + </p> + <p> + “That, monsieur, is the only fault I have committed. I think of him + always; and just as you came, I was saying his name to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Absence is killing you?” + </p> + <p> + Esther’s only answer was to hang her head as the sick do who already scent + the breath of the grave. + </p> + <p> + “If you could see him——?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It would be life!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “And do you think of him only spiritually?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur, love cannot be dissected!” + </p> + <p> + “Child of an accursed race! I have done everything to save you; I send you + back to your fate.—You shall see him again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why insult my happiness? Can I not love Lucien and be virtuous? Am I not + ready to die here for virtue, as I should be ready to die for him? Am I + not dying for these two fanaticisms—for virtue, which was to make me + worthy of him, and for him who flung me into the embrace of virtue? Yes, + and ready to die without seeing him or to live by seeing him. God is my + Judge.” + </p> + <p> + The color had mounted to her face, her whiteness had recovered its amber + warmth. Esther looked beautiful again. + </p> + <p> + “The day after that on which you are washed in the waters of baptism you + shall see Lucien once more; and if you think you can live in virtue by + living for him, you shall part no more.” + </p> + <p> + The priest was obliged to lift up Esther, whose knees failed her; the poor + child dropped as if the ground had slipped from under her feet. The Abbe + seated her on a bench; and when she could speak again she asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Why not to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to rob Monseigneur of the triumph of your baptism and + conversion? You are too close to Lucien not to be far from God.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was not thinking——” + </p> + <p> + “You will never be of any religion,” said the priest, with a touch of the + deepest irony. + </p> + <p> + “God is good,” said she; “He can read my heart.” + </p> + <p> + Conquered by the exquisite artlessness and gestures, Herrera kissed her on + the forehead for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “Your libertine friends named you well; you would bewitch God the Father.—A + few days more must pass, and then you will both be free.” + </p> + <p> + “Both!” she echoed in an ecstasy of joy. + </p> + <p> + This scene, observed from a distance, struck pupils and superiors alike; + they fancied they had looked on at a miracle as they compared Esther with + herself. She was completely changed; she was alive. She reappeared her + natural self, all love, sweet, coquettish, playful, and gay; in short, it + was a resurrection. + </p> + <p> + Herrera lived in the Rue Cassette, near Saint-Sulpice, the church to which + he was attached. This building, hard and stern in style, suited this + Spaniard, whose discipline was that of the Dominicans. A lost son of + Ferdinand VII.‘s astute policy, he devoted himself to the cause of the + constitution, knowing that this devotion could never be rewarded till the + restoration of the <i>Rey netto</i>. Carlos Herrera had thrown himself + body and soul into the <i>Camarilla</i> at the moment when the Cortes + seemed likely to stand and hold their own. To the world this conduct + seemed to proclaim a superior soul. The Duc d’Angouleme’s expedition had + been carried out, King Ferdinand was on the throne, and Carlos Herrera did + not go to claim the reward of his services at Madrid. Fortified against + curiosity by his diplomatic taciturnity, he assigned as his reason for + remaining in Paris his strong affection for Lucien de Rubempre, to which + the young man already owed the King’s patent relating to his change of + name. + </p> + <p> + Herrera lived very obscurely, as priests employed on secret missions + traditionally live. He fulfilled his religious duties at Saint-Sulpice, + never went out but on business, and then after dark, and in a hackney cab. + His day was filled up with a siesta in the Spanish fashion, which arranges + for sleep between the two chief meals, and so occupies the hours when + Paris is in a busy turmoil. The Spanish cigar also played its part, and + consumed time as well as tobacco. Laziness is a mask as gravity is, and + that again is laziness. + </p> + <p> + Herrera lived on the second floor in one wing of the house, and Lucien + occupied the other wing. The two apartments were separated and joined by a + large reception room of antique magnificence, suitable equally to the + grave priest and to the young poet. The courtyard was gloomy; large, thick + trees shaded the garden. Silence and reserve are always found in the + dwellings chosen by priests. Herrera’s lodging may be described in one + word—a cell. Lucien’s, splendid with luxury, and furnished with + every refinement of comfort, combined everything that the elegant life of + a dandy demands—a poet, a writer, ambitious and dissipated, at once + vain and vainglorious, utterly heedless, and yet wishing for order, one of + those incomplete geniuses who have some power to wish, to conceive—which + is perhaps the same thing—but no power at all to execute. + </p> + <p> + These two, Lucien and Herrera, formed a body politic. This, no doubt, was + the secret of their union. Old men in whom the activities of life have + been uprooted and transplanted to the sphere of interest, often feel the + need of a pleasing instrument, a young and impassioned actor, to carry out + their schemes. Richelieu, too late, found a handsome pale face with a + young moustache to cast in the way of women whom he wanted to amuse. + Misunderstood by giddy-pated younger men, he was compelled to banish his + master’s mother and terrify the Queen, after having tried to make each + fall in love with him, though he was not cut out to be loved by queens. + </p> + <p> + Do what we will, always, in the course of an ambitious life, we find a + woman in the way just when we least expect such an obstacle. However great + a political man may be, he always needs a woman to set against a woman, + just as the Dutch use a diamond to cut a diamond. Rome at the height of + its power yielded to this necessity. And observe how immeasurably more + imposing was the life of Mazarin, the Italian cardinal, than that of + Richelieu, the French cardinal. Richelieu met with opposition from the + great nobles, and he applied the axe; he died in the flower of his + success, worn out by this duel, for which he had only a Capuchin monk as + his second. Mazarin was repulsed by the citizen class and the nobility, + armed allies who sometimes victoriously put royalty to flight; but Anne of + Austria’s devoted servant took off no heads, he succeeded in vanquishing + the whole of France, and trained Louis XIV., who completed Richelieu’s + work by strangling the nobility with gilded cords in the grand Seraglio of + Versailles. Madame de Pompadour dead, Choiseul fell! + </p> + <p> + Had Herrera soaked his mind in these high doctrines? Had he judged himself + at an earlier age than Richelieu? Had he chosen Lucien to be his + Cinq-Mars, but a faithful Cinq-Mars? No one could answer these questions + or measure this Spaniard’s ambition, as no one could foresee what his end + might be. These questions, asked by those who were able to see anything of + this coalition, which was long kept a secret, might have unveiled a + horrible mystery which Lucien himself had known but a few days. Carlos was + ambitious for two; that was what his conduct made plain to those persons + who knew him, and who all imagined that Lucien was the priest’s + illegitimate son. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen months after Lucien’s reappearance at the opera ball, which led + him too soon into a world where the priest had not wished to see him till + he should have fully armed him against it, he had three fine horses in his + stable, a coupe for evening use, a cab and a tilbury to drive by day. He + dined out every day. Herrera’s foresight was justified; his pupil was + carried away by dissipation; he thought it necessary to effect some + diversion in the frenzied passion for Esther that the young man still + cherished in his heart. After spending something like forty thousand + francs, every folly had brought Lucien back with increased eagerness to La + Torpille; he searched for her persistently; and as he could not find her, + she became to him what game is to the sportsman. + </p> + <p> + Could Herrera understand the nature of a poet’s love? + </p> + <p> + When once this feeling has mounted to the brain of one of these great + little men, after firing his heart and absorbing his senses, the poet + becomes as far superior to humanity through love as he already is through + the power of his imagination. A freak of intellectual heredity has given + him the faculty of expressing nature by imagery, to which he gives the + stamp both of sentiment and of thought, and he lends his love the wings of + his spirit; he feels, and he paints, he acts and meditates, he multiplies + his sensations by thought, present felicity becomes threefold through + aspiration for the future and memory of the past; and with it he mingles + the exquisite delights of the soul, which makes him the prince of artists. + Then the poet’s passion becomes a fine poem in which human proportion is + often set at nought. Does not the poet then place his mistress far higher + than women crave to sit? Like the sublime Knight of la Mancha, he transfigures + a peasant girl to be a princess. He uses for his own behoof the wand with + which he touches everything, turning it into a wonder, and thus enhances + the pleasure of loving by the glorious glamour of the ideal. + </p> + <p> + Such a love is the very essence of passion. It is extreme in all things, + in its hopes, in its despair, in its rage, in its melancholy, in its joy; + it flies, it leaps, it crawls; it is not like any of the emotions known to + ordinary men; it is to everyday love what the perennial Alpine torrent is + to the lowland brook. + </p> + <p> + These splendid geniuses are so rarely understood that they spend + themselves in hopes deceived; they are exhausted by the search for their + ideal mistress, and almost always die like gorgeous insects splendidly + adorned for their love-festival by the most poetical of nature’s + inventions, and crushed under the foot of a passer-by. But there is + another danger! When they meet with the form that answers to their soul, + and which not unfrequently is that of a baker’s wife, they do as Raphael + did, as the beautiful insect does, they die in the Fornarina’s arms. + </p> + <p> + Lucien was at this pass. His poetical temperament, excessive in all + things, in good as in evil, had discerned the angel in this girl, who was + tainted by corruption rather than corrupt; he always saw her white, + winged, pure, and mysterious, as she had made herself for him, + understanding that he would have her so. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of the month of May 1825 Lucien had lost all his good + spirits; he never went out, dined with Herrera, sat pensive, worked, read + volumes of diplomatic treatises, squatted Turkish-fashion on a divan, and + smoked three or four hookahs a day. His groom had more to do in cleaning + and perfuming the tubes of this noble pipe than in currying and brushing + down the horses’ coats, and dressing them with cockades for driving in the + Bois. As soon as the Spaniard saw Lucien pale, and detected a malady in + the frenzy of suppressed passion, he determined to read to the bottom of + this man’s heart on which he founded his life. + </p> + <p> + One fine evening, when Lucien, lounging in an armchair, was mechanically + contemplating the hues of the setting sun through the trees in the garden, + blowing up the mist of scented smoke in slow, regular clouds, as pensive + smokers are wont, he was roused from his reverie by hearing a deep sigh. + He turned and saw the Abbe standing by him with folded arms. + </p> + <p> + “You were there!” said the poet. + </p> + <p> + “For some time,” said the priest, “my thoughts have been following the + wide sweep of yours.” Lucien understood his meaning. + </p> + <p> + “I have never affected to have an iron nature such as yours is. To me life + is by turns paradise and hell; when by chance it is neither, it bores me; + and I am bored——” + </p> + <p> + “How can you be bored when you have such splendid prospects before you?” + </p> + <p> + “If I have no faith in those prospects, or if they are too much shrouded?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not talk nonsense,” said the priest. “It would be far more worthy of + you and of me that you should open your heart to me. There is now that + between us which ought never to have come between us—a secret. This + secret has subsisted for sixteen months. You are in love.” + </p> + <p> + “And what then?” + </p> + <p> + “A foul hussy called La Torpille——” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “My boy, I told you you might have a mistress, but a woman of rank, + pretty, young, influential, a Countess at least. I had chosen Madame + d’Espard for you, to make her the instrument of your fortune without + scruple; for she would never have perverted your heart, she would have + left you free.—To love a prostitute of the lowest class when you + have not, like kings, the power to give her high rank, is a monstrous + blunder.” + </p> + <p> + “And am I the first man who had renounced ambition to follow the lead of a + boundless passion?” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said the priest, stooping to pick up the mouthpiece of the hookah + which Lucien had dropped on the floor. “I understand the retort. Cannot + love and ambition be reconciled? Child, you have a mother in old Herrera—a + mother who is wholly devoted to you——” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, old friend,” said Lucien, taking his hand and shaking it. + </p> + <p> + “You wished for the toys of wealth; you have them. You want to shine; I am + guiding you into the paths of power, I kiss very dirty hands to secure + your advancement, and you will get on. A little while yet and you will + lack nothing of what can charm man or woman. Though effeminate in your + caprices, your intellect is manly. I have dreamed all things of you; I + forgive you all. You have only to speak to have your ephemeral passions + gratified. I have aggrandized your life by introducing into it that which + makes it delightful to most people—the stamp of political influence + and dominion. You will be as great as you now are small; but you must not + break the machine by which we coin money. I grant you all you will + excepting such blunders as will destroy your future prospects. When I can + open the drawing-rooms of the Faubourg Saint-Germain to you, I forbid your + wallowing in the gutter. Lucien, I mean to be an iron stanchion in your + interest; I will endure everything from you, for you. Thus I have + transformed your lack of tact in the game of life into the shrewd stroke + of a skilful player——” + </p> + <p> + Lucien looked up with a start of furious impetuosity. + </p> + <p> + “I carried off La Torpille!” + </p> + <p> + “You?” cried Lucien. + </p> + <p> + In a fit of animal rage the poet jumped up, flung the jeweled mouthpiece + in the priest’s face, and pushed him with such violence as to throw down + that strong man. + </p> + <p> + “I,” said the Spaniard, getting up and preserving his terrible gravity. + </p> + <p> + His black wig had fallen off. A bald skull, as shining as a death’s head, + showed the man’s real countenance. It was appalling. Lucien sat on his + divan, his hands hanging limp, overpowered, and gazing at the Abbe with + stupefaction. + </p> + <p> + “I carried her off,” the priest repeated. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do with her? You took her away the day after the opera + ball.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the day after I had seen a woman who belonged to you insulted by + wretches whom I would not have condescended to kick downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Wretches!” interrupted Lucien, “say rather monsters, compared with whom + those who are guillotined are angels. Do you know what the unhappy + Torpille had done for three of them? One of them was her lover for two + months. She was poor, and picked up a living in the gutter; he had not a + sou; like me, when you rescued me, he was very near the river; this fellow + would get up at night and go to the cupboard where the girl kept the + remains of her dinner and eat it. At last she discovered the trick; she + understood the shameful thing, and took care to leave a great deal; then + she was happy. She never told any one but me, that night, coming home from + the opera. + </p> + <p> + “The second had stolen some money; but before the theft was found out, she + lent him the sum, which he was enabled to replace, and which he always + forgot to repay to the poor child. + </p> + <p> + “As to the third, she made his fortune by playing out a farce worthy of + Figaro’s genius. She passed as his wife and became the mistress of a man + in power, who believed her to be the most innocent of good citizens. To + one she gave life, to another honor, to the third fortune—what does + it all count for to-day? And this is how they reward her!” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see them dead?” said Herrera, in whose eyes there were + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Come, that is just like you! I know you by that——” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, hear all, raving poet,” said the priest. “La Torpille is no more.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien flew at Herrera to seize him by the throat, with such violence that + any other man must have fallen backwards; but the Spaniard’s arm held off + his assailant. + </p> + <p> + “Come, listen,” said he coldly. “I have made another woman of her, chaste, + pure, well bred, religious, a perfect lady. She is being educated. She + can, if she may, under the influence of your love, become a Ninon, a + Marion Delorme, a du Barry, as the journalist at the opera ball remarked. + You may proclaim her your mistress, or you may retire behind a curtain of + your own creating, which will be wiser. By either method you will gain + profit and pride, pleasure and advancement; but if you are as great a + politician as you are a poet, Esther will be no more to you than any other + woman of the town; for, later, perhaps she may help us out of + difficulties; she is worth her weight in gold. Drink, but do not get + tipsy. + </p> + <p> + “If I had not held the reins of your passion, where would you be now? + Rolling with La Torpille in the slough of misery from which I dragged you. + Here, read this,” said Herrera, as simply as Talma in <i>Manlius</i>, + which he had never seen. + </p> + <p> + A sheet of paper was laid on the poet’s knees, and startled him from the + ecstasy and surprise with which he had listened to this astounding speech; + he took it, and read the first letter written by Mademoiselle Esther:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To Monsieur l’Abbe Carlos Herrera. + + “MY DEAR PROTECTOR,—Will you not suppose that gratitude is + stronger in me than love, when you see that the first use I make + of the power of expressing my thoughts is to thank you, instead of + devoting it to pouring forth a passion that Lucien has perhaps + forgotten. But to you, divine man, I can say what I should not + dare to tell him, who, to my joy, still clings to earth. + + “Yesterday’s ceremony has filled me with treasures of grace, and I + place my fate in your hands. Even if I must die far away from my + beloved, I shall die purified like the Magdalen, and my soul will + become to him the rival of his guardian angel. Can I ever forget + yesterday’s festival? How could I wish to abdicate the glorious + throne to which I was raised? Yesterday I washed away every stain + in the waters of baptism, and received the Sacred Body of my + Redeemer; I am become one of His tabernacles. At that moment I + heard the songs of angels, I was more than a woman, born to a life + of light amid the acclamations of the whole earth, admired by the + world in a cloud of incense and prayers that were intoxicating, + adorned like a virgin for the Heavenly Spouse. + + “Thus finding myself worthy of Lucien, which I had never hoped to + be, I abjured impure love and vowed to walk only in the paths of + virtue. If my flesh is weaker than my spirit, let it perish. Be + the arbiter of my destiny; and if I die, tell Lucien that I died + to him when I was born to God.” + </pre> + <p> + Lucien looked up at the Abbe with eyes full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “You know the rooms fat Caroline Bellefeuille had, in the Rue Taitbout,” + the Spaniard said. “The poor creature, cast off by her magistrate, was in + the greatest poverty; she was about to be sold up. I bought the place all + standing, and she turned out with her clothes. Esther, the angel who + aspired to heaven, has alighted there, and is waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Lucien heard his horses pawing the ground in the courtyard; + he was incapable of expressing his admiration for a devotion which he + alone could appreciate; he threw himself into the arms of the man he had + insulted, made amends for all by a look and the speechless effusion of his + feelings. Then he flew downstairs, confided Esther’s address to his + tiger’s ear, and the horses went off as if their master’s passion had + lived in their legs. + </p> + <p> + The next day a man, who by his dress might have been mistaken by the + passers-by for a gendarme in disguise, was passing the Rue Taitbout, + opposite a house, as if he were waiting for some one to come out; he + walked with an agitated air. You will often see in Paris such vehement + promenaders, real gendarmes watching a recalcitrant National Guardsman, + bailiffs taking steps to effect an arrest, creditors planning a trick on + the debtor who has shut himself in, lovers, or jealous and suspicious + husbands, or friends doing sentry for a friend; but rarely do you meet a + face portending such coarse and fierce thoughts as animated that of the + gloomy and powerful man who paced to and fro under Mademoiselle Esther’s + windows with the brooding haste of a bear in its cage. + </p> + <p> + At noon a window was opened, and a maid-servant’s hand was put out to push + back the padded shutters. A few minutes later, Esther, in her + dressing-gown, came to breathe the air, leaning on Lucien; any one who saw + them might have taken them for the originals of some pretty English + vignette. Esther was the first to recognize the basilisk eyes of the + Spanish priest; and the poor creature, stricken as if she had been shot, + gave a cry of horror. + </p> + <p> + “There is that terrible priest,” said she, pointing him out to Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “He!” said Lucien, smiling, “he is no more a priest than you are.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” she said in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Why, an old villain who believes in nothing but the devil,” said Lucien. + </p> + <p> + This light thrown on the sham priest’s secrets, if revealed to any one + less devoted than Esther, might have ruined Lucien for ever. + </p> + <p> + As they went along the corridor from their bedroom to the dining-room, + where their breakfast was served, the lovers met Carlos Herrera. + </p> + <p> + “What have you come here for?” said Lucien roughly. + </p> + <p> + “To bless you,” replied the audacious scoundrel, stopping the pair and + detaining them in the little drawing-room of the apartment. “Listen to me, + my pretty dears. Amuse yourselves, be happy—well and good! Happiness + at any price is my motto.—But you,” he went on to Esther, “you whom + I dragged from the mud, and have soaped down body and soul, you surely do + not dream that you can stand in Lucien’s way?—As for you, my boy,” + he went on after a pause, looking at Lucien, “you are no longer poet + enough to allow yourself another Coralie. This is sober prose. What can be + done with Esther’s lover? Nothing. Can Esther become Madame de Rubempre? + No. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my child,” said he, laying his hand on Esther’s, and making her + shiver as if some serpent had wound itself round her, “the world must + never know of your existence. Above all, the world must never know that a + certain Mademoiselle Esther loves Lucien, and that Lucien is in love with + her.—These rooms are your prison, my pigeon. If you wish to go out—and + your health will require it—you must take exercise at night, at + hours when you cannot be seen; for your youth and beauty, and the style + you have acquired at the Convent, would at once be observed in Paris. The + day when any one in the world, whoever it be,” he added in an awful voice, + seconded by an awful look, “learns that Lucien is your lover, or that you + are his mistress, that day will be your last but one on earth. I have + procured that boy a patent permitting him to bear the name and arms of his + maternal ancestors. Still, this is not all; we have not yet recovered the + title of Marquis; and to get it, he must marry a girl of good family, in + whose favor the King will grant this distinction. Such an alliance will + get Lucien on in the world and at Court. This boy, of whom I have made a + man, will be first Secretary to an Embassy; later, he shall be Minister at + some German Court, and God, or I—better still—helping him, he + will take his seat some day on the bench reserved for peers——” + </p> + <p> + “Or on the bench reserved for——” Lucien began, interrupting + the man. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue!” cried Carlos, laying his broad hand on Lucien’s mouth. + “Would you tell such a secret to a woman?” he muttered in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Esther! A woman!” cried the poet of <i>Les Marguerites</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Still inditing sonnets!” said the Spaniard. “Nonsense! Sooner or later + all these angels relapse into being women, and every woman at moments is a + mixture of a monkey and a child, two creatures who can kill us for fun.—Esther, + my jewel,” said he to the terrified girl, “I have secured as your + waiting-maid a creature who is as much mine as if she were my daughter. + For your cook, you shall have a mulatto woman, which gives style to a + house. With Europe and Asie you can live here for a thousand-franc note a + month like a queen—a stage queen. Europe has been a dressmaker, a + milliner, and a stage super; Asie has cooked for an epicure Milord. These + two women will serve you like two fairies.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing Lucien go completely to the wall before this man, who was guilty at + least of sacrilege and forgery, this woman, sanctified by her love, felt + an awful fear in the depths of her heart. She made no reply, but dragged + Lucien into her room, and asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Is he the devil?” + </p> + <p> + “He is far worse to me!” he vehemently replied. “But if you love me, try + to imitate that man’s devotion to me, and obey him on pain of death!——” + </p> + <p> + “Of death!” she exclaimed, more frightened than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Of death,” repeated Lucien. “Alas! my darling, no death could be compared + with that which would befall me if——” + </p> + <p> + Esther turned pale at his words, and felt herself fainting. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” cried the sacrilegious forger, “have you not yet spelt out + your daisy-petals?” + </p> + <p> + Esther and Lucien came out, and the poor girl, not daring to look at the + mysterious man, said: + </p> + <p> + “You shall be obeyed as God is obeyed, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said he. “You may be very happy for a time, and you will need only + nightgowns and wrappers—that will be very economical.” + </p> + <p> + The two lovers went on towards the dining-room, but Lucien’s patron signed + to the pretty pair to stop. And they stopped. + </p> + <p> + “I have just been talking of your servants, my child,” said he to Esther. + “I must introduce them to you.” + </p> + <p> + The Spaniard rang twice. The women he had called Europe and Asie came in, + and it was at once easy to see the reason of these names. + </p> + <p> + Asie, who looked as if she might have been born in the Island of Java, + showed a face to scare the eye, as flat as a board, with the copper + complexion peculiar to Malays, with a nose that looked as if it had been + driven inwards by some violent pressure. The strange conformation of the + maxillary bones gave the lower part of this face a resemblance to that of + the larger species of apes. The brow, though sloping, was not deficient in + intelligence produced by habits of cunning. Two fierce little eyes had the + calm fixity of a tiger’s, but they never looked you straight in the face. + Asie seemed afraid lest she might terrify people. Her lips, a dull blue, + were parted over prominent teeth of dazzling whiteness, but grown across. + The leading expression of this animal countenance was one of meanness. Her + black hair, straight and greasy-looking like her skin, lay in two shining + bands, forming an edge to a very handsome silk handkerchief. Her ears were + remarkably pretty, and graced with two large dark pearls. Small, short, + and squat, Asie bore a likeness to the grotesque figures the Chinese love + to paint on screens, or, more exactly, to the Hindoo idols which seem to + be imitated from some non-existent type, found, nevertheless, now and + again by travelers. Esther shuddered as she looked at this monstrosity, + dressed out in a white apron over a stuff gown. + </p> + <p> + “Asie,” said the Spaniard, to whom the woman looked up with a gesture that + can only be compared to that of a dog to its master, “this is your + mistress.” + </p> + <p> + And he pointed to Esther in her wrapper. + </p> + <p> + Asie looked at the young fairy with an almost distressful expression; but + at the same moment a flash, half hidden between her thick, short + eyelashes, shot like an incendiary spark at Lucien, who, in a magnificent + dressing-gown thrown open over a fine Holland linen shirt and red + trousers, with a fez on his head, beneath which his fair hair fell in + thick curls, presented a godlike appearance. + </p> + <p> + Italian genius could invent the tale of Othello; English genius could put + it on the stage; but Nature alone reserves the power of throwing into a + single glance an expression of jealousy grander and more complete than + England and Italy together could imagine. This look, seen by Esther, made + her clutch the Spaniard by the arm, setting her nails in it as a cat sets + its claws to save itself from falling into a gulf of which it cannot see + the bottom. + </p> + <p> + The Spaniard spoke a few words, in some unfamiliar tongue, to the Asiatic + monster, who crept on her knees to Esther’s feet and kissed them. + </p> + <p> + “She is not merely a good cook,” said Herrera to Esther; “she is a + past-master, and might make Careme mad with jealousy. Asie can do + everything by way of cooking. She will turn you out a simple dish of beans + that will make you wonder whether the angels have not come down to add + some herb from heaven. She will go to market herself every morning, and + fight like the devil she is to get things at the lowest prices; she will + tire out curiosity by silence. + </p> + <p> + “You are to be supposed to have been in India, and Asie will help you to + give effect to this fiction, for she is one of those Parisians who are + born to be of any nationality they please. But I do not advise that you + should give yourself out to be a foreigner.—Europe, what do you + say?” + </p> + <p> + Europe was a perfect contrast to Asie, for she was the smartest + waiting-maid that Monrose could have hoped to see as her rival on the + stage. Slight, with a scatter-brain manner, a face like a weasel, and a + sharp nose, Europe’s features offered to the observer a countenance worn + by the corruption of Paris life, the unhealthy complexion of a girl fed on + raw apples, lymphatic but sinewy, soft but tenacious. One little foot was + set forward, her hands were in her apron-pockets, and she fidgeted + incessantly without moving, from sheer excess of liveliness. Grisette and + stage super, in spite of her youth she must have tried many trades. As + full of evil as a dozen Madelonnettes put together, she might have robbed + her parents, and sat on the bench of a police-court. + </p> + <p> + Asie was terrifying, but you knew her thoroughly from the first; she + descended in a straight line from Locusta; while Europe filled you with + uneasiness, which could not fail to increase the more you had to do with + her; her corruption seemed boundless. You felt that she could set the + devils by the ears. + </p> + <p> + “Madame might say she had come from Valenciennes,” said Europe in a + precise little voice. “I was born there—Perhaps monsieur,” she added + to Lucien in a pedantic tone, “will be good enough to say what name he + proposes to give to madame?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame van Bogseck,” the Spaniard put in, reversing Esther’s name. + “Madame is a Jewess, a native of Holland, the widow of a merchant, and + suffering from a liver-complaint contracted in Java. No great fortune—not + to excite curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough to live on—six thousand francs a year; and we shall complain + of her stinginess?” said Europe. + </p> + <p> + “That is the thing,” said the Spaniard, with a bow. “You limbs of Satan!” + he went on, catching Asie and Europe exchanging a glance that displeased + him, “remember what I have told you. You are serving a queen; you owe her + as much respect as to a queen; you are to cherish her as you would cherish + a revenge, and be as devoted to her as to me. Neither the door-porter, nor + the neighbors, nor the other inhabitants of the house—in short, not + a soul on earth is to know what goes on here. It is your business to balk + curiosity if any should be roused.—And madame,” he went on laying + his broad hairy hand on Esther’s arm, “madame must not commit the smallest + imprudence; you must prevent it in case of need, but always with perfect + respect. + </p> + <p> + “You, Europe, are to go out for madame in anything that concerns her + dress, and you must do her sewing from motives of economy. Finally, + nobody, not even the most insignificant creature, is ever to set foot in + this apartment. You two, between you, must do all there is to be done. + </p> + <p> + “And you, my beauty,” he went on, speaking to Esther, “when you want to go + out in your carriage by night, you can tell Europe; she will know where to + find your men, for you will have a servant in livery, of my choosing, like + those two slaves.” + </p> + <p> + Esther and Lucien had not a word ready. They listened to the Spaniard, and + looked at the two precious specimens to whom he gave his orders. What was + the secret hold to which he owed the submission and servitude that were + written on these two faces—one mischievously recalcitrant, the other + so malignantly cruel? + </p> + <p> + He read the thoughts of Lucien and Esther, who seemed paralyzed, as Paul + and Virginia might have been at the sight of two dreadful snakes, and he + said in a good-natured undertone: + </p> + <p> + “You can trust them as you can me; keep no secrets from them; that will + flatter them.—Go to your work, my little Asie,” he added to the + cook.—“And you, my girl, lay another place,” he said to Europe; “the + children cannot do less than ask papa to breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + When the two women had shut the door, and the Spaniard could hear Europe + moving to and fro, he turned to Lucien and Esther, and opening a wide + palm, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I hold them in the hollow of my hand.” + </p> + <p> + The words and gesture made his hearers shudder. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you pick them up?” cried Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil! I did not look for them at the foot of the throne!” + replied the man. “Europe has risen from the mire, and is afraid of sinking + into it again. Threaten them with Monsieur Abbe when they do not please + you, and you will see them quake like mice when the cat is mentioned. I am + used to taming wild beasts,” he added with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “You strike me as being a demon,” said Esther, clinging closer to Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “My child, I tried to win you to heaven; but a repentant Magdalen is + always a practical joke on the Church. If ever there were one, she would + relapse into the courtesan in Paradise. You have gained this much: you are + forgotten, and have acquired the manners of a lady, for you learned in the + convent what you never could have learned in the ranks of infamy in which + you were living.—You owe me nothing,” said he, observing a beautiful + look of gratitude on Esther’s face. “I did it all for him,” and he pointed + to Lucien. “You are, you will always be, you will die a prostitute; for in + spite of the delightful theories of cattle-breeders, you can never, here + below, become anything but what you are. The man who feels bumps is right. + You have the bump of love.” + </p> + <p> + The Spaniard, it will be seen, was a fatalist, like Napoleon, Mahomet, and + many other great politicians. It is a strange thing that most men of + action have a tendency to fatalism, just as most great thinkers have a + tendency to believe in Providence. + </p> + <p> + “What I am, I do not know,” said Esther with angelic sweetness; “but I + love Lucien, and shall die worshiping him.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to breakfast,” said the Spaniard sharply. “And pray to God that + Lucien may not marry too soon, for then you would never see him again.” + </p> + <p> + “His marriage would be my death,” said she. + </p> + <p> + She allowed the sham priest to lead the way, that she might stand on + tiptoe and whisper to Lucien without being seen. + </p> + <p> + “Is it your wish,” said she, “that I should remain in the power of this + man who sets two hyenas to guard me?” + </p> + <p> + Lucien bowed his head. + </p> + <p> + The poor child swallowed down her grief and affected gladness, but she + felt cruelly oppressed. It needed more than a year of constant and devoted + care before she was accustomed to these two dreadful creatures whom Carlos + Herrera called the two watch-dogs. + </p> + <p> + Lucien’s conduct since his return to Paris had borne the stamp of such + profound policy that it excited—and could not fail to excite—the + jealousy of all his former friends, on whom he took no vengeance but by + making them furious at his success, at his exquisite “get up,” and his way + of keeping every one at a distance. The poet, once so communicative, so + genial, had turned cold and reserved. De Marsay, the model adopted by all + the youth of Paris, did not make a greater display of reticence in speech + and deed than did Lucien. As to brains, the journalist had ere now proved + his mettle. De Marsay, against whom many people chose to pit Lucien, + giving a preference to the poet, was small-minded enough to resent this. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, now in high favor with men who secretly pulled the wires of power, + was so completely indifferent to literary fame, that he did not care about + the success of his romance, republished under its real title, <i>L’Archer + de Charles IX.</i>, or the excitement caused by his volume of sonnets + called <i>Les Marguerites</i>, of which Dauriat sold out the edition in a + week. + </p> + <p> + “It is posthumous fame,” said he, with a laugh, to Mademoiselle des + Touches, who congratulated him. + </p> + <p> + The terrible Spaniard held his creature with an iron hand, keeping him in + the road towards the goal where the trumpets and gifts of victory await + patient politicians. Lucien had taken Beaudenord’s bachelor quarters on + the Quai Malaquais, to be near the Rue Taitbout, and his adviser was + lodging under the same roof on the fourth floor. Lucien kept only one + horse to ride and drive, a man-servant, and a groom. When he was not + dining out, he dined with Esther. + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera kept such a keen eye on the service in the house on the + Quai Malaquais, that Lucien did not spend ten thousand francs a year, all + told. Ten thousand more were enough for Esther, thanks to the unfailing + and inexplicable devotion of Asie and Europe. Lucien took the utmost + precautions in going in and out at the Rue Taitbout. He never came but in + a cab, with the blinds down, and always drove into the courtyard. Thus his + passion for Esther and the very existence of the establishment in the Rue + Taitbout, being unknown to the world, did him no harm in his connections + or undertakings. No rash word ever escaped him on this delicate subject. + His mistakes of this sort with regard to Coralie, at the time of his first + stay in Paris, had given him experience. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, his life was marked by the correct regularity under + which many mysteries can be hidden; he remained in society every night + till one in the morning; he was always at home from ten till one in the + afternoon; then he drove in the Bois de Boulogne and paid calls till five. + He was rarely seen to be on foot, and thus avoided old acquaintances. When + some journalist or one of his former associates waved him a greeting, he + responded with a bow, polite enough to avert annoyance, but significant of + such deep contempt as killed all French geniality. He thus had very soon + got rid of persons whom he would rather never have known. + </p> + <p> + An old-established aversion kept him from going to see Madame d’Espard, + who often wished to get him to her house; but when he met her at those of + the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, of Mademoiselle des Touches, of the Comtesse + de Montcornet or elsewhere, he was always exquisitely polite to her. This + hatred, fully reciprocated by Madame d’Espard, compelled Lucien to act + with prudence; but it will be seen how he had added fuel to it by allowing + himself a stroke of revenge, which gained him indeed a severe lecture from + Carlos. + </p> + <p> + “You are not yet strong enough to be revenged on any one, whoever it may + be,” said the Spaniard. “When we are walking under a burning sun we do not + stop to gather even the finest flowers.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien was so genuinely superior, and had so fine a future before him, + that the young men who chose to be offended or puzzled by his return to + Paris and his unaccountable good fortune were enchanted whenever they + could do him an ill turn. He knew that he had many enemies, and was well + aware of those hostile feelings among his friends. The Abbe, indeed, took + admirable care of his adopted son, putting him on his guard against the + treachery of the world and the fatal imprudence of youth. Lucien was + expected to tell, and did in fact tell the Abbe each evening, every + trivial incident of the day. Thanks to his Mentor’s advice, he put the + keenest curiosity—the curiosity of the world—off the scent. + Entrenched in the gravity of an Englishman, and fortified by the redoubts + cast up by diplomatic circumspection, he never gave any one the right or + the opportunity of seeing a corner even of his concerns. His handsome + young face had, by practice, become as expressionless in society as that + of a princess at a ceremonial. + </p> + <p> + Towards the middle of 1829 his marriage began to be talked of to the + eldest daughter of the Duchesse de Grandlieu, who at that time had no less + than four daughters to provide for. No one doubted that in honor of such + an alliance the King would revive for Lucien the title of Marquis. This + distinction would establish Lucien’s fortune as a diplomate, and he would + probably be accredited as Minister to some German Court. For the last + three years Lucien’s life had been regular and above reproach; indeed, de + Marsay had made this remarkable speech about him: + </p> + <p> + “That young fellow must have a very strong hand behind him.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Lucien was almost a person of importance. His passion for Esther had, + in fact, helped him greatly to play his part of a serious man. A habit of + this kind guards an ambitious man from many follies; having no connection + with any woman of fashion, he cannot be caught by the reactions of mere + physical nature on his moral sense. + </p> + <p> + As to happiness, Lucien’s was the realization of a poet’s dreams—a + penniless poet’s, hungering in a garret. Esther, the ideal courtesan in + love, while she reminded Lucien of Coralie, the actress with whom he had + lived for a year, completely eclipsed her. Every loving and devoted woman + invents seclusion, incognito, the life of a pearl in the depths of the + sea; but to most of them this is no more than one of the delightful whims + which supply a subject for conversation; a proof of love which they dream + of giving, but do not give; whereas Esther, to whom her first enchantment + was ever new, who lived perpetually in the glow of Lucien’s first + incendiary glance, never, in four yours, had an impulse of curiosity. She + gave her whole mind to the task of adhering to the terms of the programme + prescribed by the sinister Spaniard. Nay, more! In the midst of + intoxicating happiness she never took unfair advantage of the unlimited + power that the constantly revived desire of a lover gives to the woman he + loves to ask Lucien a single question regarding Herrera, of whom indeed + she lived in constant awe; she dared not even think of him. The elaborate + benefactions of that extraordinary man, to whom Esther undoubtedly owed + her feminine accomplishment and her well-bred manner, struck the poor girl + as advances on account of hell. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to pay for all this some day,” she would tell herself with + dismay. + </p> + <p> + Every fine night she went out in a hired carriage. She was driven with a + rapidity no doubt insisted on by the Abbe, in one or another of the + beautiful woods round Paris, Boulogne, Vincennes, Romainville, or + Ville-d’Avray, often with Lucien, sometimes alone with Europe. There she + could walk about without fear; for when Lucien was not with her, she was + attended by a servant dressed like the smartest of outriders, armed with a + real knife, whose face and brawny build alike proclaimed him a ruthless + athlete. This protector was also provided, in the fashion of English + footmen, with a stick, but such as single-stick players use, with which + they can keep off more than one assailant. In obedience to an order of the + Abbe’s, Esther had never spoken a word to this escort. When madame wished + to go home, Europe gave a call; the man in waiting whistled to the driver, + who was always within hearing. + </p> + <p> + When Lucien was walking with Esther, Europe and this man remained about a + hundred paces behind, like two of the infernal minions that figure in the + <i>Thousand and One Nights</i>, which enchanters place at the service of + their devotees. + </p> + <p> + The men, and yet more the women of Paris, know nothing of the charm of a + walk in the woods on a fine night. The stillness, the moonlight effects, + the solitude, have the soothing effect of a bath. Esther usually went out + at ten, walked about from midnight till one o’clock, and came in at + half-past two. It was never daylight in her rooms till eleven. She then + bathed and went through an elaborate toilet which is unknown to most + women, for it takes up too much time, and is rarely carried out by any but + courtesans, women of the town, or fine ladies who have the day before + them. She was only just ready when Lucien came, and appeared before him as + a newly opened flower. Her only care was that her poet should be happy; + she was his toy, his chattel; she gave him entire liberty. She never cast + a glance beyond the circle where she shone. On this the Abbe had insisted, + for it was part of his profound policy that Lucien should have gallant + adventures. + </p> + <p> + Happiness has no history, and the story-tellers of all lands have + understood this so well that the words, “They are happy,” are the end of + every love tale. Hence only the ways and means can be recorded of this + really romantic happiness in the heart of Paris. It was happiness in its + loveliest form, a poem, a symphony, of four years’ duration. Every woman + will exclaim, “That was much!” Neither Esther nor Lucien had ever said, + “This is too much!” And the formula, “They were happy,” was more + emphatically true, than even in a fairy tale, for “they had <i>no</i> + children.” + </p> + <p> + So Lucien could coquet with the world, give way to his poet’s caprices, + and, it may be plainly admitted, to the necessities of his position. All + this time he was slowly making his way, and was able to render secret + service to certain political personages by helping them in their work. In + such matters he was eminently discreet. He cultivated Madame de Serizy’s + circle, being, it was rumored, on the very best terms with that lady. + Madame de Serizy had carried him off from the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, + who, it was said, had “thrown him over,” one of the phrases by which women + avenge themselves on happiness they envy. Lucien was in the lap, so to + speak, of the High Almoner’s set, and intimate with women who were the + Archbishop’s personal friends. He was modest and reserved; he waited + patiently. So de Marsay’s speech—de Marsay was now married, and made + his wife live as retired a life as Esther—was significant in more + ways that one. + </p> + <p> + But the submarine perils of such a course as Lucien’s will be sufficiently + obvious in the course of this chronicle. + </p> + <p> + Matters were in this position when, one fine night in August, the Baron de + Nucingen was driving back to Paris from the country residence of a foreign + banker, settled in France, with whom he had been dining. The estate lay at + eight leagues from Paris in the district of la Brie. Now, the Baron’s + coachman having undertaken to drive his master there and back with his own + horses, at nightfall ventured to moderate the pace. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the forest of Vincennes the position of beast, man, and + master was as follows:—The coachman, liberally soaked in the kitchen + of the aristocrat of the Bourse, was perfectly tipsy, and slept soundly, + while still holding the reins to deceive other wayfarers. The footman, + seated behind, was snoring like a wooden top from Germany—the land + of little carved figures, of large wine-vats, and of humming-tops. The + Baron had tried to think; but after passing the bridge at Gournay, the + soft somnolence of digestion had sealed his eyes. The horses understood + the coachman’s plight from the slackness of the reins; they heard the + footman’s basso continuo from his perch behind; they saw that they were + masters of the situation, and took advantage of their few minutes’ freedom + to make their own pace. Like intelligent slaves, they gave highway robbers + the chance of plundering one of the richest capitalists in France, the + most deeply cunning of the race which, in France, have been energetically + styled lynxes—loups-cerviers. Finally, being independent of control, + and tempted by the curiosity which every one must have remarked in + domestic animals, they stopped where four roads met, face to face with + some other horses, whom they, no doubt, asked in horses’ language: “Who + may you be? What are you doing? Are you comfortable?” + </p> + <p> + When the chaise stopped, the Baron awoke from his nap. At first he fancied + that he was still in his friend’s park; then he was startled by a + celestial vision, which found him unarmed with his usual weapon—self-interest. + The moonlight was brilliant; he could have read by it—even an + evening paper. In the silence of the forest, under this pure light, the + Baron saw a woman, alone, who, as she got into a hired chaise, looked at + the strange spectacle of this sleep-stricken carriage. At the sight of + this angel the Baron felt as though a light had flashed into glory within + him. The young lady, seeing herself admired, pulled down her veil with + terrified haste. The man-servant gave a signal which the driver perfectly + understood, for the vehicle went off like an arrow. + </p> + <p> + The old banker was fearfully agitated; the blood left his feet cold and + carried fire to his brain, his head sent the flame back to his heart; he + was chocking. The unhappy man foresaw a fit of indigestion, but in spite + of that supreme terror he stood up. + </p> + <p> + “Follow qvick, fery qvick.—Tam you, you are ashleep!” he cried. “A + hundert franc if you catch up dat chaise.” + </p> + <p> + At the words “A hundred francs,” the coachman woke up. The servant behind + heard them, no doubt, in his dreams. The baron reiterated his orders, the + coachman urged the horses to a gallop, and at the Barriere du Trone had + succeeded in overtaking a carriage resembling that in which Nucingen had + seen the divine fair one, but which contained a swaggering head-clerk from + some first-class shop and a lady of the Rue Vivienne. + </p> + <p> + This blunder filled the Baron with consternation. + </p> + <p> + “If only I had prought Chorge inshtead of you, shtupid fool, he should + have fount dat voman,” said he to the servant, while the excise officers + were searching the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Monsieur le Baron, the devil was behind the chaise, I believe, + disguised as an armed escort, and he sent this chaise instead of hers.” + </p> + <p> + “Dere is no such ting as de Teufel,” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + The Baron de Nucingen owned to sixty; he no longer cared for women, and + for his wife least of all. He boasted that he had never known such love as + makes a fool of a man. He declared that he was happy to have done with + women; the most angelic of them, he frankly said, was not worth what she + cost, even if you got her for nothing. He was supposed to be so entirely + blase, that he no longer paid two thousand francs a month for the pleasure + of being deceived. His eyes looked coldly down from his opera box on the + corps de ballet; never a glance was shot at the capitalist by any one of + that formidable swarm of old young girls, and young old women, the cream + of Paris pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Natural love, artificial and love-of-show love, love based on self-esteem + and vanity, love as a display of taste, decent, conjugal love, eccentric + love—the Baron had paid for them all, had known them all excepting + real spontaneous love. This passion had now pounced down on him like an + eagle on its prey, as it did on Gentz, the confidential friend of His + Highness the Prince of Metternich. All the world knows what follies the + old diplomate committed for Fanny Elssler, whose rehearsals took up a + great deal more of his time than the concerns of Europe. + </p> + <p> + The woman who had just overthrown that iron-bound money-box, called + Nucingen, had appeared to him as one of those who are unique in their + generation. It is not certain that Titian’s mistress, or Leonardo da + Vinci’s Monna Lisa, or Raphael’s Fornarina were as beautiful as this + exquisite Esther, in whom not the most practised eye of the most + experienced Parisian could have detected the faintest trace of the + ordinary courtesan. The Baron was especially startled by the noble and + stately air, the air of a well-born woman, which Esther, beloved, and + lapped in luxury, elegance, and devotedness, had in the highest degree. + Happy love is the divine unction of women; it makes them all as lofty as + empresses. + </p> + <p> + For eight nights in succession the Baron went to the forest of Vincennes, + then to the Bois de Boulogne, to the woods of Ville-d’Avray, to Meudon, in + short, everywhere in the neighborhood of Paris, but failed to meet Esther. + That beautiful Jewish face, which he called “a face out of te Biple,” was + always before his eyes. By the end of a fortnight he had lost his + appetite. + </p> + <p> + Delphine de Nucingen, and her daughter Augusta, whom the Baroness was now + taking out, did not at first perceive the change that had come over the + Baron. The mother and daughter only saw him at breakfast in the morning + and at dinner in the evening, when they all dined at home, and this was + only on the evenings when Delphine received company. But by the end of two + months, tortured by a fever of impatience, and in a state like that + produced by acute home-sickness, the Baron, amazed to find his millions + impotent, grew so thin, and seemed so seriously ill, that Delphine had + secret hopes of finding herself a widow. She pitied her husband, somewhat + hypocritically, and kept her daughter in seclusion. She bored her husband + with questions; he answered as Englishmen answer when suffering from + spleen, hardly a word. + </p> + <p> + Delphine de Nucingen gave a grand dinner every Sunday. She had chosen that + day for her receptions, after observing that no people of fashion went to + the play, and that the day was pretty generally an open one. The + emancipation of the shopkeeping and middle classes makes Sunday almost as + tiresome in Paris as it is deadly in London. So the Baroness invited the + famous Desplein to dinner, to consult him in spite of the sick man, for + Nucingen persisted in asserting that he was perfectly well. + </p> + <p> + Keller, Rastignac, de Marsay, du Tillet, all their friends had made the + Baroness understand that a man like Nucingen could not be allowed to die + without any notice being taken of it; his enormous business transactions + demanded some care; it was absolutely necessary to know where he stood. + These gentlemen also were asked to dinner, and the Comte de Gondreville, + Francois Keller’s father-in-law, the Chevalier d’Espard, des Lupeaulx, + Doctor Bianchon—Desplein’s best beloved pupil—Beaudenord and + his wife, the Comte and Comtesse de Montcornet, Blondet, Mademoiselle des + Touches and Conti, and finally, Lucien de Rubempre, for whom Rastignac had + for the last five years manifested the warmest regard—by order, as + the advertisements have it. + </p> + <p> + “We shall not find it easy to get rid of that young fellow,” said Blondet + to Rastignac, when he saw Lucien come in handsomer than ever, and + uncommonly well dressed. + </p> + <p> + “It is wiser to make friends with him, for he is formidable,” said + Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “He?” said de Marsay. “No one is formidable to my knowledge but men whose + position is assured, and his is unattacked rather than attackable! Look + here, what does he live on? Where does his money come from? He has, I am + certain, sixty thousand francs in debts.” + </p> + <p> + “He has found a friend in a very rich Spanish priest who has taken a fancy + to him,” replied Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “He is going to be married to the eldest Mademoiselle de Grandlieu,” said + Mademoiselle des Touches. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Chevalier d’Espard, “but they require him to buy an estate + worth thirty thousand francs a year as security for the fortune he is to + settle on the young lady, and for that he needs a million francs, which + are not to be found in any Spaniard’s shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “That is dear, for Clotilde is very ugly,” said the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nucingen affected to call Mademoiselle de Grandlieu by her + Christian name, as though she, nee Goriot, frequented that society. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied du Tillet, “the daughter of a duchess is never ugly to the + like of us, especially when she brings with her the title of Marquis and a + diplomatic appointment. But the great obstacle to the marriage is Madame + de Serizy’s insane passion for Lucien. She must give him a great deal of + money.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am not surprised at seeing Lucien so serious; for Madame de Serizy + will certainly not give him a million francs to help him to marry + Mademoiselle de Grandlieu. He probably sees no way out of the scrape,” + said de Marsay. + </p> + <p> + “But Mademoiselle de Grandlieu worships him,” said the Comtesse de + Montcornet; “and with the young person’s assistance, he may perhaps make + better terms.” + </p> + <p> + “And what will he do with his sister and brother-in-law at Angouleme?” + asked the Chevalier d’Espard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, his sister is rich,” replied Rastignac, “and he now speaks of her + as Madame Sechard de Marsac.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever difficulties there may be, he is a very good-looking fellow,” + said Bianchon, rising to greet Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “How ‘do, my dear fellow?” said Rastignac, shaking hands warmly with + Lucien. + </p> + <p> + De Marsay bowed coldly after Lucien had first bowed to him. + </p> + <p> + Before dinner Desplein and Bianchon, who studied the Baron while amusing + him, convinced themselves that this malady was entirely nervous; but + neither could guess the cause, so impossible did it seem that the great + politician of the money market could be in love. When Bianchon, seeing + nothing but love to account for the banker’s condition, hinted as much to + Delphine de Nucingen, she smiled as a woman who has long known all her + husband’s weaknesses. After dinner, however, when they all adjourned to + the garden, the more intimate of the party gathered round the banker, + eager to clear up this extraordinary case when they heard Bianchon + pronounce that Nucingen must be in love. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Baron,” said de Marsay, “that you have grown very thin? You + are suspected of violating the laws of financial Nature.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, nefer!” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” replied de Marsay. “They dare to say that you are in love.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat is true,” replied Nucingen piteously; “I am in lof for somebody I do + not know.” + </p> + <p> + “You, in love, you? You are a coxcomb!” said the Chevalier d’Espard. + </p> + <p> + “In lof, at my aje! I know dat is too ridiculous. But vat can I help it! + Dat is so.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman of the world?” asked Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said de Marsay. “The Baron would not grow so thin but for a + hopeless love, and he has money enough to buy all the women who will or + can sell themselves!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know who she it,” said the Baron. “And as Motame de Nucingen is + inside de trawing-room, I may say so, dat till now I have nefer known what + it is to lof. Lof! I tink it is to grow tin.” + </p> + <p> + “And where did you meet this innocent daisy?” asked Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “In a carriage, at mitnight, in de forest of Fincennes.” + </p> + <p> + “Describe her,” said de Marsay. + </p> + <p> + “A vhite gaze hat, a rose gown, a vhite scharf, a vhite feil—a face + just out of de Biple. Eyes like Feuer, an Eastern color——” + </p> + <p> + “You were dreaming,” said Lucien, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Dat is true; I vas shleeping like a pig—a pig mit his shkin full,” + he added, “for I vas on my vay home from tinner at mine friend’s——” + </p> + <p> + “Was she alone?” said du Tillet, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “Ja,” said the Baron dolefully; “but she had ein heiduque behind dat + carriage and a maid-shervant——” + </p> + <p> + “Lucien looks as if he knew her,” exclaimed Rastignac, seeing Esther’s + lover smile. + </p> + <p> + “Who doesn’t know the woman who would go out at midnight to meet + Nucingen?” said Lucien, turning on his heel. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she is not a woman who is seen in society, or the Baron would have + recognized the man,” said the Chevalier d’Espard. + </p> + <p> + “I have nefer seen him,” replied the Baron. “And for forty days now I have + had her seeked for by de Police, and dey do not find her.” + </p> + <p> + “It is better that she should cost you a few hundred francs than cost you + your life,” said Desplein; “and, at your age, a passion without hope is + dangerous, you might die of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ja, ja,” replied the Baron, addressing Desplein. “And vat I eat does me + no goot, de air I breade feels to choke me. I go to de forest of Fincennes + to see de place vat I see her—and dat is all my life. I could not + tink of de last loan—I trust to my partners vat haf pity on me. I + could pay one million franc to see dat voman—and I should gain by + dat, for I do nothing on de Bourse.—Ask du Tillet.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true,” replied du Tillet; “he hates business; he is quite unlike + himself; it is a sign of death.” + </p> + <p> + “A sign of lof,” replied Nucingen; “and for me, dat is all de same ting.” + </p> + <p> + The simple candor of the old man, no longer the stock-jobber, who, for the + first time in his life, saw that something was more sacred and more + precious than gold, really moved these world-hardened men; some exchanged + smiles; other looked at Nucingen with an expression that plainly said, + “Such a man to have come to this!”—And then they all returned to the + drawing-room, talking over the event. + </p> + <p> + For it was indeed an event calculated to produce the greatest sensation. + Madame de Nucingen went into fits of laughter when Lucien betrayed her + husband’s secret; but the Baron, when he heard his wife’s sarcasms, took + her by the arm and led her into the recess of a window. + </p> + <p> + “Motame,” said he in an undertone, “have I ever laughed at all at your + passions, that you should laugh at mine? A goot frau should help her + husband out of his difficulty vidout making game of him like vat you do.” + </p> + <p> + From the description given by the old banker, Lucien had recognized his + Esther. Much annoyed that his smile should have been observed, he took + advantage of a moment when coffee was served, and the conversation became + general, to vanish from the scene. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of Monsieur de Rubempre?” said the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “He is faithful to his motto: Quid me continebit?” said Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “Which means, ‘Who can detain me?’ or ‘I am unconquerable,’ as you + choose,” added de Marsay. + </p> + <p> + “Just as Monsieur le Baron was speaking of his unknown lady, Lucien smiled + in a way that makes me fancy he may know her,” said Horace Bianchon, not + thinking how dangerous such a natural remark might be. + </p> + <p> + “Goot!” said the banker to himself. + </p> + <p> + Like all incurables, the Baron clutched at everything that seemed at all + hopeful; he promised himself that he would have Lucien watched by some one + besides Louchard and his men—Louchard, the sharpest commercial + detective in Paris—to whom he had applied about a fortnight since. + </p> + <p> + Before going home to Esther, Lucien was due at the Hotel Grandlieu, to + spend the two hours which made Mademoiselle Clotilde Frederique de + Grandlieu the happiest girl in the Faubourg Saint-Germain. But the + prudence characteristic of this ambitious youth warned him to inform + Carlos Herrera forthwith of the effect resulting from the smile wrung from + him by the Baron’s description of Esther. The banker’s passion for Esther, + and the idea that had occurred to him of setting the police to seek the + unknown beauty, were indeed events of sufficient importance to be at once + communicated to the man who had sought, under a priest’s robe, the shelter + which criminals of old could find in a church. And Lucien’s road from the + Rue Saint-Lazare, where Nucingen at that time lived, to the Rue + Saint-Dominique, where was the Hotel Grandlieu, led him past his lodgings + on the Quai Malaquais. + </p> + <p> + Lucien found his formidable friend smoking his breviary—that is to + say, coloring a short pipe before retiring to bed. The man, strange rather + than foreign, had given up Spanish cigarettes, finding them too mild. + </p> + <p> + “Matters look serious,” said the Spaniard, when Lucien had told him all. + “The Baron, who employs Louchard to hunt up the girl, will certainly be + sharp enough to set a spy at your heels, and everything will come out. + To-night and to-morrow morning will not give me more than enough time to + pack the cards for the game I must play against the Baron; first and + foremost, I must prove to him that the police cannot help him. When our + lynx has given up all hope of finding his ewe-lamb, I will undertake to + sell her for all she is worth to him——” + </p> + <p> + “Sell Esther!” cried Lucien, whose first impulse was always the right one. + </p> + <p> + “Do you forget where we stand?” cried Carlos Herrera. + </p> + <p> + “No money left,” the Spaniard went on, “and sixty thousand francs of debts + to be paid! If you want to marry Clotilde de Grandlieu, you must invest a + million of francs in land as security for that ugly creature’s settlement. + Well, then, Esther is the quarry I mean to set before that lynx to help us + to ease him of that million. That is my concern.” + </p> + <p> + “Esther will never——” + </p> + <p> + “That is my concern.” + </p> + <p> + “She will die of it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the undertaker’s concern. Besides, what then?” cried the savage, + checking Lucien’s lamentations merely by his attitude. “How many generals + died in the prime of life for the Emperor Napoleon?” he asked, after a + short silence. “There are always plenty of women. In 1821 Coralie was + unique in your eyes; and yet you found Esther. After her will come—do + you know who?—the unknown fair. And she of all women is the fairest, + and you will find her in the capital where the Duc de Grandlieu’s + son-in-law will be Minister and representative of the King of France.—And + do you tell me now, great Baby, that Esther will die of it? Again, can + Mademoiselle de Grandlieu’s husband keep Esther? + </p> + <p> + “You have only to leave everything to me; you need not take the trouble to + think at all; that is my concern. Only you must do without Esther for a + week or two; but go to the Rue Taitbout, all the same.—Come, be off + to bill and coo on your plank of salvation, and play your part well; slip + the flaming note you wrote this morning into Clotilde’s hand, and bring me + back a warm response. She will recompense herself for many woes in + writing. I take to that girl. + </p> + <p> + “You will find Esther a little depressed, but tell her to obey. We must + display our livery of virtue, our doublet of honesty, the screen behind + which all great men hide their infamy.—I must show off my handsomer + self—you must never be suspected. Chance has served us better than + my brain, which has been beating about in a void for these two months + past.” + </p> + <p> + All the while he was jerking out these dreadful sentences, one by one, + like pistol shots, Carlos Herrera was dressing himself to go out. + </p> + <p> + “You are evidently delighted,” cried Lucien. “You never liked poor Esther, + and you look forward with joy to the moment when you will be rid of her.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never tired of loving her, have you? Well, I have never tired of + detesting her. But have I not always behaved as though I were sincerely + attached to the hussy—I, who, through Asie, hold her life in my + hands? A few bad mushrooms in a stew—and there an end. But + Mademoiselle Esther still lives!—and is happy!—And do you know + why? Because you love her. Do not be a fool. For four years we have been + waiting for a chance to turn up, for us or against us; well, it will take + something more than mere cleverness to wash the cabbage luck has flung at + us now. There are good and bad together in this turn of the wheel—as + there are in everything. Do you know what I was thinking of when you came + in?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Of making myself heir here, as I did at Barcelona, to an old bigot, by + Asie’s help.” + </p> + <p> + “A crime?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw no other way of securing your fortune. The creditors are making a + stir. If once the bailiffs were at your heels, and you were turned out of + the Hotel Grandlieu, where would you be? There would be the devil to pay + then.” + </p> + <p> + And Carlos Herrera, by a pantomimic gesture, showed the suicide of a man + throwing himself into the water; then he fixed on Lucien one of those + steady, piercing looks by which the will of a strong man is injected, so + to speak, into a weak one. This fascinating glare, which relaxed all + Lucien’s fibres of resistance, revealed the existence not merely of + secrets of life and death between him and his adviser, but also of + feelings as far above ordinary feeling as the man himself was above his + vile position. + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera, a man at once ignoble and magnanimous, obscure and famous, + compelled to live out of the world from which the law had banned him, + exhausted by vice and by frenzied and terrible struggles, though endowed + with powers of mind that ate into his soul, consumed especially by a fever + of vitality, now lived again in the elegant person of Lucien de Rubempre, + whose soul had become his own. He was represented in social life by the + poet, to whom he lent his tenacity and iron will. To him Lucien was more + than a son, more than a woman beloved, more than a family, more than his + life; he was his revenge; and as souls cling more closely to a feeling + than to existence, he had bound the young man to him by insoluble ties. + </p> + <p> + After rescuing Lucien’s life at the moment when the poet in desperation + was on the verge of suicide, he had proposed to him one of those infernal + bargains which are heard of only in romances, but of which the hideous + possibility has often been proved in courts of justice by celebrated + criminal dramas. While lavishing on Lucien all the delights of Paris life, + and proving to him that he yet had a great future before him, he had made + him his chattel. + </p> + <p> + But, indeed, no sacrifice was too great for this strange man when it was + to gratify his second self. With all his strength, he was so weak to this + creature of his making that he had even told him all his secrets. Perhaps + this abstract complicity was a bond the more between them. + </p> + <p> + Since the day when La Torpille had been snatched away, Lucien had known on + what a vile foundation his good fortune rested. That priest’s robe covered + Jacques Collin, a man famous on the hulks, who ten years since had lived + under the homely name of Vautrin in the Maison Vauquer, where Rastignac + and Bianchon were at that time boarders. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, known as <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, had escaped from Rochefort + almost as soon as he was recaptured, profiting by the example of the + famous Comte de Sainte-Helene, while modifying all that was ill planned in + Coignard’s daring scheme. To take the place of an honest man and carry on + the convict’s career is a proposition of which the two terms are too + contradictory for a disastrous outcome not to be inevitable, especially in + Paris; for, by establishing himself in a family, a convict multiplies + tenfold the perils of such a substitution. And to be safe from all + investigation, must not a man assume a position far above the ordinary + interests of life. A man of the world is subject to risks such as rarely + trouble those who have no contact with the world; hence the priest’s gown + is the safest disguise when it can be authenticated by an exemplary life + in solitude and inactivity. + </p> + <p> + “So a priest I will be,” said the legally dead man, who was quite + determined to resuscitate as a figure in the world, and to satisfy + passions as strange as himself. + </p> + <p> + The civil war caused by the Constitution of 1812 in Spain, whither this + energetic man had betaken himself, enabled him to murder secretly the real + Carlos Herrera from an ambush. This ecclesiastic, the bastard son of a + grandee, long since deserted by his father, and not knowing to what woman + he owed his birth, was intrusted by King Ferdinand VII., to whom a bishop + had recommended him, with a political mission to France. The bishop, the + only man who took any interest in Carlos Herrera, died while this + foundling son of the Church was on his journey from Cadiz to Madrid, and + from Madrid to France. Delighted to have met with this longed-for + opportunity, and under the most desirable conditions, Jacques Collin + scored his back to efface the fatal letters, and altered his complexion by + the use of chemicals. Thus metamorphosing himself face to face with the + corpse, he contrived to achieve some likeness to his Sosia. And to + complete a change almost as marvelous as that related in the Arabian tale, + where a dervish has acquired the power, old as he is, of entering into a + young body, by a magic spell, the convict, who spoke Spanish, learned as + much Latin as an Andalusian priest need know. + </p> + <p> + As banker to three hulks, Collin was rich in the cash intrusted to his + known, and indeed enforced, honesty. Among such company a mistake is paid + for by a dagger thrust. To this capital he now added the money given by + the bishop to Don Carlos Herrera. Then, before leaving Spain, he was able + to possess himself of the treasure of an old bigot at Barcelona, to whom + he gave absolution, promising that he would make restitution of the money + constituting her fortune, which his penitent had stolen by means of + murder. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, now a priest, and charged with a secret mission which + would secure him the most brilliant introductions in Paris, determined to + do nothing that might compromise the character he had assumed, and had + given himself up to the chances of his new life, when he met Lucien on the + road between Angouleme and Paris. In this youth the sham priest saw a + wonderful instrument for power; he saved him from suicide saying: + </p> + <p> + “Give yourself over to me as to a man of God, as men give themselves over + to the devil, and you will have every chance of a new career. You will + live as in a dream, and the worst awakening that can come to you will be + death, which you now wish to meet.” + </p> + <p> + The alliance between these two beings, who were to become one, as it were, + was based on this substantial reasoning, and Carlos Herrera cemented it by + an ingeniously plotted complicity. He had the very genius of corruption, + and undermined Lucien’s honesty by plunging him into cruel necessity, and + extricating him by obtaining his tacit consent to bad or disgraceful + actions, which nevertheless left him pure, loyal, and noble in the eyes of + the world. Lucien was the social magnificence under whose shadow the + forger meant to live. + </p> + <p> + “I am the author, you are the play; if you fail, it is I who shall be + hissed,” said he on the day when he confessed his sacrilegious disguise. + </p> + <p> + Carlos prudently confessed only a little at a time, measuring the horrors + of his revelations by Lucien’s progress and needs. Thus <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> + did not let out his last secret till the habit of Parisian pleasures and + success, and gratified vanity, had enslaved the weak-minded poet body and + soul. Where Rastignac, when tempted by this demon, had stood firm, Lucien, + better managed, and more ingeniously compromised, succumbed, conquered + especially by his satisfaction in having attained an eminent position. + Incarnate evil, whose poetical embodiment is called the Devil, displayed + every delightful seduction before this youth, who was half a woman, and at + first gave much and asked for little. The great argument used by Carlos + was the eternal secret promised by Tartufe to Elmire. + </p> + <p> + The repeated proofs of absolute devotion, such as that of Said to Mahomet, + put the finishing touch to the horrible achievement of Lucien’s + subjugation by a Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + At this moment not only had Esther and Lucien devoured all the funds + intrusted to the honesty of the banker of the hulks, who, for their sakes, + had rendered himself liable to a dreadful calling to account, but the + dandy, the forger, and the courtesan were also in debt. Thus, as the very + moment of Lucien’s expected success, the smallest pebble under the foot of + either of these three persons might involve the ruin of the fantastic + structure of fortune so audaciously built up. + </p> + <p> + At the opera ball Rastignac had recognized the man he had known as Vautrin + at Madame Vauquer’s; but he knew that if he did not hold his tongue, he + was a dead man. So Madame de Nucingen’s lover and Lucien had exchanged + glances in which fear lurked, on both sides, under an expression of amity. + In the moment of danger, Rastignac, it is clear, would have been delighted + to provide the vehicle that should convey Jacques Collin to the scaffold. + From all this it may be understood that Carlos heard of the Baron’s + passion with a glow of sombre satisfaction, while he perceived in a single + flash all the advantage a man of his temper might derive by means of a + hapless Esther. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said he to Lucien. “The Devil is mindful of his chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “You are smoking on a powder barrel.” + </p> + <p> + “Incedo per ignes,” replied Carlos with a smile. “That is my trade.” + </p> + <p> + The House of Grandlieu divided into two branches about the middle of the + last century: first, the ducal line destined to lapse, since the present + duke has only daughters; and then the Vicomtes de Grandlieu, who will now + inherit the title and armorial bearings of the elder branch. The ducal + house bears gules, three broad axes or in fess, with the famous motto: + Caveo non timeo, which epitomizes the history of the family. + </p> + <p> + The coat of the Vicomtes de Grandlieu is the same quartered with that of + Navarreins: gules, a fess crenelated or, surmounted by a knight’s helmet, + with the motto: Grands faits, grand lieu. The present Viscountess, widowed + in 1813, has a son and a daughter. Though she returned from the Emigration + almost ruined, she recovered a considerable fortune by the zealous aid of + Derville the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + The Duc and Duchesse de Grandlieu, on coming home in 1804, were the object + of the Emperor’s advances; indeed, Napoleon, seeing them come to his + court, restored to them all of the Grandlieu estates that had been + confiscated to the nation, to the amount of about forty thousand francs a + year. Of all the great nobles of the Faubourg Saint-Germain who allowed + themselves to be won over by Napoleon, this Duke and Duchess—she was + an Ajuda of the senior branch, and connected with the Braganzas—were + the only family who afterwards never disowned him and his liberality. When + the Faubourg Saint-Germain remembered this as a crime against the + Grandlieus, Louis XVIII. respected them for it; but perhaps his only + object was to annoy <i>Monsieur</i>. + </p> + <p> + A marriage was considered likely between the young Vicomte de Grandlieu + and Marie-Athenais, the Duke’s youngest daughter, now nine years old. + Sabine, the youngest but one, married the Baron du Guenic after the + revolution of July 1830; Josephine, the third, became Madame d’Ajuda-Pinto + after the death of the Marquis’ first wife, Mademoiselle de Rochefide, or + Rochegude. The eldest had taken the veil in 1822. The second, Mademoiselle + Clotilde Frederique, at this time seven-and-twenty years of age, was + deeply in love with Lucien de Rubempre. It need not be asked whether the + Duc de Grandlieu’s mansion, one of the finest in the Rue Saint-Dominique, + did not exert a thousand spells over Lucien’s imagination. Every time the + heavy gate turned on its hinges to admit his cab, he experienced the + gratified vanity to which Mirabeau confessed. + </p> + <p> + “Though my father was a mere druggist at l’Houmeau, I may enter here!” + This was his thought. + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, he would have committed far worse crimes than allying himself + with a forger to preserve his right to mount the steps of that entrance, + to hear himself announced, “Monsieur de Rubempre” at the door of the fine + Louis XIV. drawing-room, decorated in the time of the grand monarque on + the pattern of those at Versailles, where that choicest circle met, that + cream of Paris society, called then le petit chateau. + </p> + <p> + The noble Portuguese lady, one of those who never care to go out of their + own home, was usually the centre of her neighbors’ attentions—the + Chaulieus, the Navarreins, the Lenoncourts. The pretty Baronne de Macumer—nee + de Chaulieu—the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, Madame d’Espard, Madame de + Camps, and Mademoiselle des Touches—a connection of the Grandlieus, + who are a Breton family—were frequent visitors on their way to a + ball or on their return from the opera. The Vicomte de Grandlieu, the Duc + de Rhetore, the Marquis de Chaulieu—afterwards Duc de + Lenoncourt-Chaulieu—his wife, Madeleine de Mortsauf, the Duc de + Lenoncourt’s grand-daughter, the Marquis d’Ajuda-Pinto, the Prince de + Blamont-Chauvry, the Marquis de Beauseant, the Vidame de Pamiers, the + Vandenesses, the old Prince de Cadignan, and his son the Duc de + Maufrigneuse, were constantly to be seen in this stately drawing-room, + where they breathed the atmosphere of a Court, where manners, tone, and + wit were in harmony with the dignity of the Master and Mistress whose + aristocratic mien and magnificence had obliterated the memory of their + servility to Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + The old Duchesse d’Uxelles, mother of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, was + the oracle of this circle, to which Madame de Serizy had never gained + admittance, though nee de Ronquerolles. + </p> + <p> + Lucien was brought thither by Madame de Maufrigneuse, who had won over her + mother to speak in his favor, for she had doted on him for two years; and + the engaging young poet had kept his footing there, thanks to the + influence of the high Almoner of France, and the support of the Archbishop + of Paris. Still, he had not been admitted till he had obtained the patent + restoring to him the name and arms of the Rubempre family. The Duc de + Rhetore, the Chevalier d’Espard, and some others, jealous of Lucien, + periodically stirred up the Duc de Grandlieu’s prejudices against him by + retailing anecdotes of the young man’s previous career; but the Duchess, a + devout Catholic surrounded by the great prelates of the Church, and her + daughter Clotilde would not give him up. + </p> + <p> + Lucien accounted for these hostilities by his connection with Madame de + Bargeton, Madame d’Espard’s cousin, and now Comtesse du Chatelet. Then, + feeling the importance of allying himself to so powerful a family, and + urged by his privy adviser to win Clotilde, Lucien found the courage of + the parvenu; he came to the house five days in the week, he swallowed all + the affronts of the envious, he endured impertinent looks, and answered + irony with wit. His persistency, the charm of his manners, and his + amiability, at last neutralized opposition and reduced obstacles. He was + still in the highest favor with Madame de Maufrigneuse, whose ardent + letters, written under the influence of her passion, were preserved by + Carlos Herrera; he was idolized by Madame de Serizy, and stood well in + Mademoiselle des Touches’ good graces; and well content with being + received in these houses, Lucien was instructed by the Abbe to be as + reserved as possible in all other quarters. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot devote yourself to several houses at once,” said his Mentor. + “The man who goes everywhere finds no one to take a lively interest in + him. Great folks only patronize those who emulate their furniture, whom + they see every day, and who have the art of becoming as necessary to them + as the seat they sit on.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Lucien, accustomed to regard the Grandlieus’ drawing-room as his + arena, reserved his wit, his jests, his news, and his courtier’s graces + for the hours he spent there every evening. Insinuating, tactful, and + warned by Clotilde of the shoals he should avoid, he flattered Monsieur de + Grandlieu’s little weaknesses. Clotilde, having begun by envying Madame de + Maufrigneuse her happiness, ended by falling desperately in love with + Lucien. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving all the advantages of such a connection, Lucien played his + lover’s part as well as it could have been acted by Armand, the latest <i>jeune + premier</i> at the <i>Comedie Francaise</i>. + </p> + <p> + He wrote to Clotilde, letters which were certainly masterpieces of + literary workmanship; and Clotilde replied, vying with him in genius in + the expression of perfervid love on paper, for she had no other outlet. + Lucien went to church at Saint-Thomas-d’Aquin every Sunday, giving himself + out as a devout Catholic, and he poured forth monarchical and pious + harangues which were a marvel to all. He also wrote some exceedingly + remarkable articles in papers devoted to the “Congregation,” refusing to + be paid for them, and signing them only with an “L.” He produced political + pamphlets when required by King Charles X. or the High Almoner, and for + these he would take no payment. + </p> + <p> + “The King,” he would say, “has done so much for me, that I owe him my + blood.” + </p> + <p> + For some days past there had been an idea of attaching Lucien to the prime + minister’s cabinet as his private secretary; but Madame d’Espard brought + so many persons into the field in opposition to Lucien, that Charles X.‘s + <i>Maitre Jacques</i> hesitated to clinch the matter. Nor was Lucien’s + position by any means clear; not only did the question, “What does he live + on?” on everybody’s lips as the young man rose in life, require an answer, + but even benevolent curiosity—as much as malevolent curiosity—went + on from one inquiry to another, and found more than one joint in the + ambitious youth’s harness. + </p> + <p> + Clotilde de Grandlieu unconsciously served as a spy for her father and + mother. A few days since she had led Lucien into a recess and told him of + the difficulties raised by her family. + </p> + <p> + “Invest a million francs in land, and my hand is yours: that is my + mother’s ultimatum,” Clotilde had explained. + </p> + <p> + “And presently they will ask you where you got the money,” said Carlos, + when Lucien reported this last word in the bargain. + </p> + <p> + “My brother-in-law will have made his fortune,” remarked Lucien; “we can + make him the responsible backer.” + </p> + <p> + “Then only the million is needed,” said Carlos. “I will think it over.” + </p> + <p> + To be exact as to Lucien’s position in the Hotel Grandlieu, he had never + dined there. Neither Clotilde, nor the Duchesse d’Uxelles, nor Madame de + Maufrigneuse, who was always extremely kind to Lucien, could ever obtain + this favor from the Duke, so persistently suspicious was the old nobleman + of the man that he designated as “le Sire de Rubempre.” This shade of + distinction, understood by every one who visited at the house, constantly + wounded Lucien’s self-respect, for he felt that he was no more than + tolerated. But the world is justified in being suspicious; it is so often + taken in! + </p> + <p> + To cut a figure in Paris with no known source of wealth and no recognized + employment is a position which can by no artifice be long maintained. So + Lucien, as he crept up in the world, gave more and more weight to the + question, “What does he live on?” He had been obliged indeed to confess to + Madame de Serizy, to whom he owed the patronage of Monsieur Granville, the + Public Prosecutor, and of the Comte Octave de Bauvan, a Minister of State, + and President of one of the Supreme Courts: “I am dreadfully in debt.” + </p> + <p> + As he entered the courtyard of the mansion where he found an excuse for + all his vanities, he was saying to himself as he reflected on <i>Trompe-la-Mort’s</i> + scheming: + </p> + <p> + “I can hear the ground cracking under my feet!” + </p> + <p> + He loved Esther, and he wanted to marry Mademoiselle de Grandlieu! A + strange dilemma! One must be sold to buy the other. + </p> + <p> + Only one person could effect this bargain without damage to Lucien’s + honor, and that was the supposed Spaniard. Were they not bound to be + equally secret, each for the other? Such a compact, in which each is in + turn master and slave, is not to be found twice in any one life. + </p> + <p> + Lucien drove away the clouds that darkened his brow, and walked into the + Grandlieu drawing-room gay and beaming. At this moment the windows were + open, the fragrance from the garden scented the room, the flower-basket in + the centre displayed its pyramid of flowers. The Duchess, seated on a sofa + in the corner, was talking to the Duchesse de Chaulieu. Several women + together formed a group remarkable for their various attitudes, stamped + with the different expression which each strove to give to an affected + sorrow. In the fashionable world nobody takes any interest in grief or + suffering; everything is talk. The men were walking up and down the room + or in the garden. Clotilde and Josephine were busy at the tea-table. The + Vidame de Pamiers, the Duc de Grandlieu, the Marquis d’Ajuda-Pinto, and + the Duc de Maufrigneuse were playing Wisk, as they called it, in a corner + of the room. + </p> + <p> + When Lucien was announced he walked across the room to make his bow to the + Duchess, asking the cause of the grief he could read in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Chaulieu has just had dreadful news; her son-in-law, the Baron + de Macumer, ex-duke of Soria, is just dead. The young Duc de Soria and his + wife, who had gone to Chantepleurs to nurse their brother, have written + this sad intelligence. Louise is heart-broken.” + </p> + <p> + “A women is not loved twice in her life as Louise was loved by her + husband,” said Madeleine de Mortsauf. + </p> + <p> + “She will be a rich widow,” observed the old Duchesse d’Uxelles, looking + at Lucien, whose face showed no change of expression. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Louise!” said Madame d’Espard. “I understand her and pity her.” + </p> + <p> + The Marquise d’Espard put on the pensive look of a woman full of soul and + feeling. Sabine de Grandlieu, who was but ten years old, raised knowing + eyes to her mother’s face, but the satirical glance was repressed by a + glance from the Duchess. This is bringing children up properly. + </p> + <p> + “If my daughter lives through the shock,” said Madame de Chaulieu, with a + very maternal manner, “I shall be anxious about her future life. Louise is + so very romantic.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so difficult nowadays,” said a venerable Cardinal, “to reconcile + feeling with the proprieties.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien, who had not a word to say, went to the tea-table to do what was + polite to the demoiselles de Grandlieu. When the poet had gone a few yards + away, the Marquise d’Espard leaned over to whisper in the Duchess’ ear: + </p> + <p> + “And do you really think that that young fellow is so much in love with + your Clotilde?” + </p> + <p> + The perfidy of this question cannot be fully understood but with the help + of a sketch of Clotilde. That young lady was, at this moment, standing up. + Her attitude allowed the Marquise d’Espard’s mocking eye to take in + Clotilde’s lean, narrow figure, exactly like an asparagus stalk; the poor + girl’s bust was so flat that it did not allow of the artifice known to + dressmakers as <i>fichus menteurs</i>, or padded habitshirts. And + Clotilde, who knew that her name was a sufficient advantage in life, far + from trying to conceal this defect, heroically made a display of it. By + wearing plain, tight dresses she achieved the effect of that stiff prim + shape which medieval sculptors succeeded in giving to the statuettes whose + profiles are conspicuous against the background of the niches in which + they stand in cathedrals. + </p> + <p> + Clotilde was more than five feet four in height; if we may be allowed to + use a familiar phrase, which has the merit at any rate of being perfectly + intelligible—she was all legs. These defective proportions gave her + figure an almost deformed appearance. With a dark complexion, harsh black + hair, very thick eyebrows, fiery eyes, set in sockets that were already + deeply discolored, a side face shaped like the moon in its first quarter, + and a prominent brow, she was the caricature of her mother, one of the + handsomest women in Portugal. Nature amuses herself with such tricks. + Often we see in one family a sister of wonderful beauty, whose features in + her brother are absolutely hideous, though the two are amazingly alike. + Clotilde’s lips, excessively thin and sunken, wore a permanent expression + of disdain. And yet her mouth, better than any other feature of her face, + revealed every secret impulse of her heart, for affection lent it a sweet + expression, which was all the more remarkable because her cheeks were too + sallow for blushes, and her hard, black eyes never told anything. + Notwithstanding these defects, notwithstanding her board-like carriage, + she had by birth and education a grand air, a proud demeanor, in short, + everything that has been well named le je ne sais quoi, due partly, + perhaps, to her uncompromising simplicity of dress, which stamped her as a + woman of noble blood. She dressed her hair to advantage, and it might be + accounted to her for a beauty, for it grew vigorously, thick and long. + </p> + <p> + She had cultivated her voice, and it could cast a spell; she sang + exquisitely. Clotilde was just the woman of whom one says, “She has fine + eyes,” or, “She has a delightful temper.” If any one addressed her in the + English fashion as “Your Grace,” she would say, “You mean ‘Your + leanness.’” + </p> + <p> + “Why should not my poor Clotilde have a lover?” replied the Duchess to the + Marquise. “Do you know what she said to me yesterday? ‘If I am loved for + ambition’s sake, I undertake to make him love me for my own sake.’—She + is clever and ambitious, and there are men who like those two qualities. + As for him—my dear, he is as handsome as a vision; and if he can but + repurchase the Rubempre estates, out of regard for us the King will + reinstate him in the title of Marquis.—After all, his mother was the + last of the Rubempres.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow! where is he to find a million francs?” said the Marquise. + </p> + <p> + “That is no concern of ours,” replied the Duchess. “He is certainly + incapable of stealing the money.—Besides, we would never give + Clotilde to an intriguing or dishonest man even if he were handsome, + young, and a poet, like Monsieur de Rubempre.” + </p> + <p> + “You are late this evening,” said Clotilde, smiling at Lucien with + infinite graciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have been dining out.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been quite gay these last few days,” said she, concealing her + jealousy and anxiety behind a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Quite gay?” replied Lucien. “No—only by the merest chance I have + been dining every day this week with bankers; to-day with the Nucingens, + yesterday with du Tillet, the day before with the Kellers——” + </p> + <p> + Whence, it may be seen, that Lucien had succeeded in assuming the tone of + light impertinence of great people. + </p> + <p> + “You have many enemies,” said Clotilde, offering him—how graciously!—a + cup of tea. “Some one told my father that you have debts to the amount of + sixty thousand francs, and that before long Sainte-Pelagie will be your + summer quarters.—If you could know what all these calumnies are to + me!—It all recoils on me.—I say nothing of my own suffering—my + father has a way of looking that crucifies me—but of what you must + be suffering if any least part of it should be the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not let such nonsense worry you; love me as I love you, and give me + time—a few months——” said Lucien, replacing his empty + cup on the silver tray. + </p> + <p> + “Do not let my father see you; he would say something disagreeable; and as + you could not submit to that, we should be done for.—That odious + Marquise d’Espard told him that your mother had been a monthly nurse and + that your sister did ironing——” + </p> + <p> + “We were in the most abject poverty,” replied Lucien, the tears rising to + his eyes. “That is not calumny, but it is most ill-natured gossip. My + sister now is a more than millionaire, and my mother has been dead two + years.—This information has been kept in stock to use just when I + should be on the verge of success here——” + </p> + <p> + “But what have you done to Madame d’Espard?” + </p> + <p> + “I was so rash, at Madame de Serizy’s, as to tell the story, with some + added pleasantries, in the presence of MM. de Bauvan and de Granville, of + her attempt to get a commission of lunacy appointed to sit on her husband, + the Marquis d’Espard. Bianchon had told it to me. Monsieur de Granville’s + opinion, supported by those of Bauvan and Serizy, influenced the decision + of the Keeper of the Seals. They all were afraid of the <i>Gazette des + Tribunaux</i>, and dreaded the scandal, and the Marquise got her knuckles + rapped in the summing up for the judgment finally recorded in that + miserable business. + </p> + <p> + “Though M. de Serizy by his tattle has made the Marquise my mortal foe, I + gained his good offices, and those of the Public Prosecutor, and Comte + Octave de Bauvan; for Madame de Serizy told them the danger in which I + stood in consequence of their allowing the source of their information to + be guessed at. The Marquis d’Espard was so clumsy as to call upon me, + regarding me as the first cause of his winning the day in that atrocious + suit.” + </p> + <p> + “I will rescue you from Madame d’Espard,” said Clotilde. + </p> + <p> + “How?” cried Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “My mother will ask the young d’Espards here; they are charming boys, and + growing up now. The father and sons will sing your praises, and then we + are sure never to see their mother again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Clotilde, you are an angel! If I did not love you for yourself, I + should love you for being so clever.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not cleverness,” said she, all her love beaming on her lips. + “Goodnight. Do not come again for some few days. When you see me in + church, at Saint-Thomas-d’Aquin, with a pink scarf, my father will be in a + better temper.—You will find an answer stuck to the back of the + chair you are sitting in; it will comfort you perhaps for not seeing me. + Put the note you have brought under my handkerchief——” + </p> + <p> + This young person was evidently more than seven-and-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Lucien took a cab in the Rue de la Planche, got out of it on the + Boulevards, took another by the Madeleine, and desired the driver to have + the gates opened and drive in at the house in the Rue Taitbout. + </p> + <p> + On going in at eleven o’clock, he found Esther in tears, but dressed as + she was wont to dress to do him honor. She awaited her Lucien reclining on + a sofa covered with white satin brocaded with yellow flowers, dressed in a + bewitching wrapper of India muslin with cherry-colored bows; without her + stays, her hair simply twisted into a knot, her feet in little velvet + slippers lined with cherry-colored satin; all the candles were burning, + the hookah was prepared. But she had not smoked her own, which stood + beside her unlighted, emblematical of her loneliness. On hearing the doors + open she sprang up like a gazelle, and threw her arms round Lucien, + wrapping him like a web caught by the wind and flung about a tree. + </p> + <p> + “Parted.—Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just for a few days,” replied Lucien. + </p> + <p> + Esther released him, and fell back on her divan like a dead thing. + </p> + <p> + In these circumstances, most women babble like parrots. Oh! how they love! + At the end of five years they feel as if their first happiness were a + thing of yesterday, they cannot give you up, they are magnificent in their + indignation, despair, love, grief, dread, dejection, presentiments. In + short, they are as sublime as a scene from Shakespeare. But make no + mistake! These women do not love. When they are really all that they + profess, when they love truly, they do as Esther did, as children do, as + true love does; Esther did not say a word, she lay with her face buried in + the pillows, shedding bitter tears. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, on his part, tried to lift her up, and spoke to her. + </p> + <p> + “But, my child, we are not to part. What, after four years of happiness, + is this the way you take a short absence.—What on earth do I do to + all these girls?” he added to himself, remembering that Coralie had loved + him thus. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur, you are so handsome,” said Europe. + </p> + <p> + The senses have their own ideal. When added to this fascinating beauty we + find the sweetness of nature, the poetry, that characterized Lucien, it is + easy to conceive of the mad passion roused in such women, keenly alive as + they are to external gifts, and artless in their admiration. Esther was + sobbing quietly, and lay in an attitude expressive of the deepest + distress. + </p> + <p> + “But, little goose,” said Lucien, “did you not understand that my life is + at stake?” + </p> + <p> + At these words, which he chose on purpose, Esther started up like a wild + animal, her hair fell, tumbling about her excited face like wreaths of + foliage. She looked steadily at Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “Your life?” she cried, throwing up her arms, and letting them drop with a + gesture known only to a courtesan in peril. “To be sure; that friend’s + note speaks of serious risk.” + </p> + <p> + She took a shabby scrap of paper out of her sash; then seeing Europe, she + said, “Leave us, my girl.” + </p> + <p> + When Europe had shut the door she went on—“Here, this is what he + writes,” and she handed to Lucien a note she had just received from + Carlos, which Lucien read aloud:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “You must leave to-morrow at five in the morning; you will be + taken to a keeper’s lodge in the heart of the Forest of + Saint-Germain, where you will have a room on the first floor. Do + not quit that room till I give you leave; you will want for nothing. + The keeper and his wife are to be trusted. Do not write to Lucien. + Do not go to the window during daylight; but you may walk by night + with the keeper if you wish for exercise. Keep the carriage blinds + down on the way. Lucien’s life is at stake. + + “Lucien will go to-night to bid you good-bye; burn this in his + presence.” + </pre> + <p> + Lucien burned the note at once in the flame of a candle. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, my own Lucien,” said Esther, after hearing him read this letter + as a criminal hears the sentence of death; “I will not tell you that I + love you; it would be idiotic. For nearly five years it has been as + natural to me to love you as to breathe and live. From the first day when + my happiness began under the protection of that inscrutable being, who + placed me here as you place some little curious beast in a cage, I have + known that you must marry. Marriage is a necessary factor in your career, + and God preserve me from hindering the development of your fortunes. + </p> + <p> + “That marriage will be my death. But I will not worry you; I will not do + as the common girls do who kill themselves by means of a brazier of + charcoal; I had enough of that once; twice raises your gorge, as Mariette + says. No, I will go a long way off, out of France. Asie knows the secrets + of her country; she will help me to die quietly. A prick—whiff, it + is all over! + </p> + <p> + “I ask but one thing, my dearest, and that is that you will not deceive + me. I have had my share of living. Since the day I first saw you, in 1824, + till this day, I have known more happiness than can be put into the lives + of ten fortunate wives. So take me for what I am—a woman as strong + as I am weak. Say ‘I am going to be married.’ I will ask no more of you + than a fond farewell, and you shall never hear of me again.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence after this explanation as sincere as her + action and tone were guileless. + </p> + <p> + “Is it that you are going to be married?” she repeated, looking into + Lucien’s blue eyes with one of her fascinating glances, as brilliant as a + steel blade. + </p> + <p> + “We have been toiling at my marriage for eighteen months past, and it is + not yet settled,” replied Lucien. “I do not know when it can be settled; + but it is not in question now, child!—It is the Abbe, I, you.—We + are in real peril. Nucingen saw you——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in the wood at Vincennes,” said she. “Did he recognize me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Lucien. “But he has fallen so desperately in love with you, + that he would sacrifice his coffers. After dinner, when he was describing + how he had met you, I was so foolish as to smile involuntarily, and most + imprudently, for I live in a world like a savage surrounded by the traps + of a hostile tribe. Carlos, who spares me the pains of thinking, regards + the position as dangerous, and he has undertaken to pay Nucingen out if + the Baron takes it into his head to spy on us; and he is quite capable of + it; he spoke to me of the incapacity of the police. You have lighted a + flame in an old chimney choked with soot.” + </p> + <p> + “And what does your Spaniard propose to do?” asked Esther very softly. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know in the least,” said Lucien; “he told me I might sleep + soundly and leave it to him;”—but he dared not look at Esther. + </p> + <p> + “If that is the case, I will obey him with the dog-like submission I + profess,” said Esther, putting her hand through Lucien’s arm and leading + him into her bedroom, saying, “At any rate, I hope you dined well, my + Lulu, at that detestable Baron’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Asie’s cooking prevents my ever thinking a dinner good, however famous + the chef may be, where I happen to dine. However, Careme did the dinner + to-night, as he does every Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien involuntarily compared Esther with Clotilde. The mistress was so + beautiful, so unfailingly charming, that she had as yet kept at arm’s + length the monster who devours the most perennial loves—Satiety. + </p> + <p> + “What a pity,” thought he, “to find one’s wife in two volumes. In one—poetry, + delight, love, devotion, beauty, sweetness——” + </p> + <p> + Esther was fussing about, as women do, before going to bed; she came and + went and fluttered round, singing all the time; you might have thought her + a humming-bird. + </p> + <p> + “In the other—a noble name, family, honors, rank, knowledge of the + world!—And no earthly means of combining them!” cried Lucien to + himself. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, at seven, when the poet awoke in the pretty pink-and-white + room, he found himself alone. He rang, and Europe hurried in. + </p> + <p> + “What are monsieur’s orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Esther?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame went off this morning at a quarter to five. By Monsieur l’Abbe’s + order, I admitted a new face—carriage paid.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, an English woman—one of those people who do their day’s + work by night, and we are ordered to treat her as if she were madame. What + can you have to say to such hack!—Poor Madame, how she cried when + she got into the carriage. ‘Well, it has to be done!’ cried she. ‘I left + that poor dear boy asleep,’ said she, wiping away her tears; ‘Europe, if + he had looked at me or spoken my name, I should have stayed—I could + but have died with him.’—I tell you, sir, I am so fond of madame, + that I did not show her the person who has taken her place; some waiting + maids would have broken her heart by doing so.” + </p> + <p> + “And is the stranger there?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, she came in the chaise that took away madame, and I hid her in + my room in obedience to my instructions——” + </p> + <p> + “Is she nice-looking?” + </p> + <p> + “So far as such a second-hand article can be. But she will find her part + easy enough if you play yours, sir,” said Europe, going to fetch the false + Esther. + </p> + <p> + The night before, ere going to bed, the all-powerful banker had given his + orders to his valet, who, at seven in the morning, brought in to him the + notorious Louchard, the most famous of the commercial police, whom he left + in a little sitting-room; there the Baron joined him, in a dressing gown + and slippers. + </p> + <p> + “You haf mate a fool of me!” he said, in reply to this official’s + greeting. + </p> + <p> + “I could not help myself, Monsieur le Baron. I do not want to lose my + place, and I had the honor of explaining to you that I could not meddle in + a matter that had nothing to do with my functions. What did I promise you? + To put you into communication with one of our agents, who, as it seemed to + me, would be best able to serve you. But you know, Monsieur le Baron, the + sharp lines that divide men of different trades: if you build a house, you + do not set a carpenter to do smith’s work. Well, there are two branches of + the police—the political police and the judicial police. The + political police never interfere with the other branch, and vice versa. If + you apply to the chief of the political police, he must get permission + from the Minister to take up our business, and you would not dare to + explain it to the head of the police throughout the kingdom. A + police-agent who should act on his own account would lose his place. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the ordinary police are quite as cautious as the political police. + So no one, whether in the Home Office or at the Prefecture of Police, ever + moves excepting in the interests of the State or for the ends of Justice. + </p> + <p> + “If there is a plot or a crime to be followed up, then, indeed, the heads + of the corps are at your service; but you must understand, Monsieur le + Baron, that they have other fish to fry than looking after the fifty + thousand love affairs in Paris. As to me and my men, our only business is + to arrest debtors; and as soon as anything else is to be done, we run + enormous risks if we interfere with the peace and quiet of any man or + woman. I sent you one of my men, but I told you I could not answer for + him; you instructed him to find a particular woman in Paris; Contenson + bled you of a thousand-franc note, and did not even move. You might as + well look for a needle in the river as for a woman in Paris, who is + supposed to haunt Vincennes, and of whom the description answers to every + pretty woman in the capital.” + </p> + <p> + “And could not Contenson haf tolt me de truf, instead of making me pleed + out one tousand franc?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, Monsieur le Baron,” said Louchard. “Will you give me a + thousand crowns? I will give you—sell you—a piece of advice?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it vort one tousand crowns—your atvice?” asked Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “I am not to be caught, Monsieur le Baron,” answered Louchard. “You are in + love, you want to discover the object of your passion; you are getting as + yellow as a lettuce without water. Two physicians came to see you + yesterday, your man tells me, who think your life is in danger; now, I + alone can put you in the hands of a clever fellow.—But the deuce is + in it! If your life is not worth a thousand crowns——” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me de name of dat clefer fellow, and depent on my generosity——” + </p> + <p> + Louchard took up his hat, bowed, and left the room. + </p> + <p> + “Wat ein teufel!” cried Nucingen. “Come back—look here——” + </p> + <p> + “Take notice,” said Louchard, before taking the money, “I am only selling + a piece of information, pure and simple. I can give you the name and + address of the only man who is able to be of use to you—but he is a + master——” + </p> + <p> + “Get out mit you,” cried Nucingen. “Dere is not no name dat is vort one + tousant crown but dat von Varschild—and dat only ven it is sign at + the bottom of a bank-bill.—I shall gif you one tousant franc.” + </p> + <p> + Louchard, a little weasel, who had never been able to purchase an office + as lawyer, notary, clerk, or attorney, leered at the Baron in a + significant fashion. + </p> + <p> + “To you—a thousand crowns, or let it alone. You will get them back + in a few seconds on the Bourse,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I will gif you one tousant franc,” repeated the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “You would cheapen a gold mine!” said Louchard, bowing and leaving. + </p> + <p> + “I shall get dat address for five hundert franc!” cried the Baron, who + desired his servant to send his secretary to him. + </p> + <p> + Turcaret is no more. In these days the smallest banker, like the greatest, + exercises his acumen in the smallest transactions; he bargains over art, + beneficence, and love; he would bargain with the Pope for a dispensation. + Thus, as he listened to Louchard, Nucingen had hastily concluded that + Contenson, Louchard’s right-hand man, must certainly know the address of + that master spy. Contenson would tell him for five hundred francs what + Louchard wanted to see a thousand crowns for. The rapid calculation + plainly proves that if the man’s heart was in possession of love, his head + was still that of the lynx stock-jobber. + </p> + <p> + “Go your own self, mensieur,” said the Baron to his secretary, “to + Contenson, dat spy of Louchart’s de bailiff man—but go in one + capriolette, very qvick, and pring him here qvick to me. I shall vait.—Go + out trough de garten.—Here is dat key, for no man shall see dat man + in here. You shall take him into dat little garten-house. Try to do dat + little business very clefer.” + </p> + <p> + Visitors called to see Nucingen on business; but he waited for Contenson, + he was dreaming of Esther, telling himself that before long he would see + again the woman who had aroused in him such unhoped-for emotions, and he + sent everybody away with vague replies and double-edged promises. + Contenson was to him the most important person in Paris, and he looked out + into the garden every minute. Finally, after giving orders that no one + else was to be admitted, he had his breakfast served in the summer-house + at one corner of the garden. In the banker’s office the conduct and + hesitancy of the most knowing, the most clearsighted, the shrewdest of + Paris financiers seemed inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + “What ails the chief?” said a stockbroker to one of the head-clerks. + </p> + <p> + “No one knows; they are anxious about his health, it would seem. + Yesterday, Madame la Baronne got Desplein and Bianchon to meet.” + </p> + <p> + One day, when Sir Isaac Newton was engaged in physicking one of his dogs, + named “Beauty” (who, as is well known, destroyed a vast amount of work, + and whom he reproved only in these words, “Ah! Beauty, you little know the + mischief you have done!”), some strangers called to see him; but they at + once retired, respecting the great man’s occupation. In every more or less + lofty life, there is a little dog “Beauty.” When the Marechal de Richelieu + came to pay his respects to Louis XV. after taking Mahon, one of the + greatest feats of arms of the eighteenth century, the King said to him, + “Have you heard the great news? Poor Lansmatt is dead.”—Lansmatt was + a gatekeeper in the secret of the King’s intrigues. + </p> + <p> + The bankers of Paris never knew how much they owed to Contenson. That spy + was the cause of Nucingen’s allowing an immense loan to be issued in which + his share was allotted to him, and which he gave over to them. The + stock-jobber could aim at a fortune any day with the artillery of + speculation, but the man was a slave to the hope of happiness. + </p> + <p> + The great banker drank some tea, and was nibbling at a slice of bread and + butter, as a man does whose teeth have for long been sharpened by + appetite, when he heard a carriage stop at the little garden gate. In a + few minutes his secretary brought in Contenson, whom he had run to earth + in a cafe not far from Sainte-Pelagie, where the man was breakfasting on + the strength of a bribe given to him by an imprisoned debtor for certain + allowances that must be paid for. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, you must know, was a whole poem—a Paris poem. Merely to + see him would have been enough to tell you that Beaumarchais’ <i>Figaro</i>, + Moliere’s <i>Mascarille</i>, Marivaux’s <i>Frontin</i>, and Dancourt’s <i>Lafleur</i>—those + great representatives of audacious swindling, of cunning driven to bay, of + stratagem rising again from the ends of its broken wires—were all + quite second-rate by comparison with this giant of cleverness and + meanness. When in Paris you find a real type, he is no longer a man, he is + a spectacle; no longer a factor in life, but a whole life, many lives. + </p> + <p> + Bake a plaster cast four times in a furnace, and you get a sort of bastard + imitation of Florentine bronze. Well, the thunderbolts of numberless + disasters, the pressure of terrible necessities, had bronzed Contenson’s + head, as though sweating in an oven had three times over stained his skin. + Closely-set wrinkles that could no longer be relaxed made eternal furrows, + whiter in their cracks. The yellow face was all wrinkles. The bald skull, + resembling Voltaire’s, was as parched as a death’s-head, and but for a few + hairs at the back it would have seemed doubtful whether it was that of a + living man. Under a rigid brow, a pair of Chinese eyes, like those of an + image under a glass shade in a tea-shop—artificial eyes, which sham + life but never vary—moved but expressed nothing. The nose, as flat + as that of a skull, sniffed at fate; and the mouth, as thin-lipped as a + miser’s, was always open, but as expressionless as the grin of a + letterbox. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, as apathetic as a savage, with sunburned hands, affected that + Diogenes-like indifference which can never bend to any formality of + respect. + </p> + <p> + And what a commentary on his life was written on his dress for any one who + can decipher a dress! Above all, what trousers! made, by long wear, as + black and shiny as the camlet of which lawyers’ gowns are made! A + waistcoat, bought in an old clothes shop in the Temple, with a deep + embroidered collar! A rusty black coat!—and everything well brushed, + clean after a fashion, and graced by a watch and an imitation gold chain. + Contenson allowed a triangle of shirt to show, with pleats in which + glittered a sham diamond pin; his black velvet stock set stiff like a + gorget, over which lay rolls of flesh as red as that of a Caribbee. His + silk hat was as glossy as satin, but the lining would have yielded grease + enough for two street lamps if some grocer had bought it to boil down. + </p> + <p> + But to enumerate these accessories is nothing; if only I could give an + idea of the air of immense importance that Contenson contrived to impart + to them! There was something indescribably knowing in the collar of his + coat, and the fresh blacking on a pair of boots with gaping soles, to + which no language can do justice. However, to give some notion of this + medley of effect, it may be added that any man of intelligence would have + felt, only on seeing Contenson, that if instead of being a spy he had been + a thief, all these odds and ends, instead of raising a smile, would have + made one shudder with horror. Judging only from his dress, the observer + would have said to himself, “That is a scoundrel; he gambles, he drinks, + he is full of vices; but he does not get drunk, he does not cheat, he is + neither a thief nor a murderer.” And Contenson remained inscrutable till + the word spy suggested itself. + </p> + <p> + This man had followed as many unrecognized trades as there are recognized + ones. The sly smile on his lips, the twinkle of his green eyes, the queer + twitch of his snub nose, showed that he was not deficient in humor. He had + a face of sheet-tin, and his soul must probably be like his face. Every + movement of his countenance was a grimace wrung from him by politeness + rather than by any expression of an inmost impulse. He would have been + alarming if he had not seemed so droll. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, one of the most curious products of the scum that rises to the + top of the seething Paris caldron, where everything ferments, prided + himself on being, above all things, a philosopher. He would say, without + any bitter feeling: + </p> + <p> + “I have great talents, but of what use are they? I might as well have been + an idiot.” + </p> + <p> + And he blamed himself instead of accusing mankind. Find, if you can, many + spies who have not had more venom about them than Contenson had. + </p> + <p> + “Circumstances are against me,” he would say to his chiefs. “We might be + fine crystal; we are but grains of sand, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + His indifference to dress had some sense. He cared no more about his + everyday clothes than an actor does; he excelled in disguising himself, in + “make-up”; he could have given Frederic Lemaitre a lesson, for he could be + a dandy when necessary. Formerly, in his younger days, he must have + mingled in the out-at-elbows society of people living on a humble scale. + He expressed excessive disgust for the criminal police corps; for, under + the Empire, he had belonged to Fouche’s police, and looked upon him as a + great man. Since the suppression of this Government department, he had + devoted his energies to the tracking of commercial defaulters; but his + well-known talents and acumen made him a valuable auxiliary, and the + unrecognized chiefs of the political police had kept his name on their + lists. Contenson, like his fellows, was only a super in the dramas of + which the leading parts were played by his chief when a political + investigation was in the wind. + </p> + <p> + “Go ‘vay,” said Nucingen, dismissing his secretary with a wave of the + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Why should this man live in a mansion and I in a lodging?” wondered + Contenson to himself. “He has dodged his creditors three times; he has + robbed them; I never stole a farthing; I am a cleverer fellow than he is——” + </p> + <p> + “Contenson, mein freund,” said the Baron, “you haf vat you call pleed me + of one tousand-franc note.” + </p> + <p> + “My girl owed God and the devil——” + </p> + <p> + “Vat, you haf a girl, a mistress!” cried Nucingen, looking at Contenson + with admiration not unmixed with envy. + </p> + <p> + “I am but sixty-six,” replied Contenson, as a man whom vice has kept young + as a bad example. + </p> + <p> + “And vat do she do?” + </p> + <p> + “She helps me,” said Contenson. “When a man is a thief, and an honest + woman loves him, either she becomes a thief or he becomes an honest man. I + have always been a spy.” + </p> + <p> + “And you vant money—alvays?” asked Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “Always,” said Contenson, with a smile. “It is part of my business to want + money, as it is yours to make it; we shall easily come to an + understanding. You find me a little, and I will undertake to spend it. You + shall be the well, and I the bucket.” + </p> + <p> + “Vould you like to haf one note for fife hundert franc?” + </p> + <p> + “What a question! But what a fool I am!—You do not offer it out of a + disinterested desire to repair the slights of Fortune?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I gif it besides the one tousand-franc note vat you pleed me + off. Dat makes fifteen hundert franc vat I gif you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, you give me the thousand francs I have had and you will add + five hundred francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yust so,” said Nucingen, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “But that still leaves only five hundred francs,” said Contenson + imperturbably. + </p> + <p> + “Dat I gif,” added the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “That I take. Very good; and what, Monsieur le Baron, do you want for it?” + </p> + <p> + “I haf been told dat dere vas in Paris one man vat could find the voman + vat I lof, and dat you know his address.... A real master to spy.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell den, gif me dat address, and I gif you fife hundert franc.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are they?” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “Here dey are,” said the Baron, drawing a note out of his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “All right, hand them over,” said Contenson, holding out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Noting for noting! Le us see de man, and you get de money; you might sell + to me many address at dat price.” + </p> + <p> + Contenson began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure, you have a right to think that of me,” said he, with an air + of blaming himself. “The more rascally our business is, the more honesty + is necessary. But look here, Monsieur le Baron, make it six hundred, and I + will give you a bit of advice.” + </p> + <p> + “Gif it, and trust to my generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “I will risk it,” Contenson said, “but it is playing high. In such + matters, you see, we have to work underground. You say, ‘Quick march!’—You + are rich; you think that money can do everything. Well, money is + something, no doubt. Still, money can only buy men, as the two or three + best heads in our force so often say. And there are many things you would + never think of which money cannot buy.—You cannot buy good luck. So + good police work is not done in this style. Will you show yourself in a + carriage with me? We should be seen. Chance is just as often for us as + against us.” + </p> + <p> + “Really-truly?” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, sir. A horseshoe picked up in the street led the chief of + the police to the discovery of the infernal machine. Well, if we were to + go to-night in a hackney coach to Monsieur de Saint-Germain, he would not + like to see you walk in any more than you would like to be seen going + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat is true,” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he is the greatest of the great! such another as the famous Corentin, + Fouche’s right arm, who was, some say, his natural son, born while he was + still a priest; but that is nonsense. Fouche knew how to be a priest as he + knew how to be a Minister. Well, you will not get this man to do anything + for you, you see, for less than ten thousand-franc notes—think of + that.—But he will do the job, and do it well. Neither seen nor + heard, as they say. I ought to give Monsieur de Saint-Germanin notice, and + he will fix a time for your meeting in some place where no one can see or + hear, for it is a dangerous game to play policeman for private interests. + Still, what is to be said? He is a good fellow, the king of good fellows, + and a man who has undergone much persecution, and for having saving his + country too!—like me, like all who helped to save it.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell den, write and name de happy day,” said the Baron, smiling at his + humble jest. + </p> + <p> + “And Monsieur le Baron will allow me to drink his health?” said Contenson, + with a manner at once cringing and threatening. + </p> + <p> + “Shean,” cried the Baron to the gardener, “go and tell Chorge to sent me + one twenty francs, and pring dem to me——” + </p> + <p> + “Still, Monsieur le Baron, if you have no more information than you have + just given me, I doubt whether the great man can be of any use to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I know off oders!” replied the Baron with a cunning look. + </p> + <p> + “I have the honor to bid you good-morning, Monsieur le Baron,” said + Contenson, taking the twenty-franc piece. “I shall have the honor of + calling again to tell Georges where you are to go this evening, for we + never write anything in such cases when they are well managed.” + </p> + <p> + “It is funny how sharp dese rascals are!” said the Baron to himself; “it + is de same mit de police as it is in buss’niss.” + </p> + <p> + When he left the Baron, Contenson went quietly from the Rue Saint-Lazare + to the Rue Saint-Honore, as far as the Cafe David. He looked in through + the windows, and saw an old man who was known there by the name of le Pere + Canquoelle. + </p> + <p> + The Cafe David, at the corner of the Rue de la Monnaie and the Rue + Saint-Honore, enjoyed a certain celebrity during the first thirty years of + the century, though its fame was limited to the quarter known as that of + the Bourdonnais. Here certain old retired merchants, and large shopkeepers + still in trade, were wont to meet—the Camusots, the Lebas, the + Pilleraults, the Popinots, and a few house-owners like little old + Molineux. Now and again old Guillaume might be seen there, coming from the + Rue du Colombier. Politics were discussed in a quiet way, but cautiously, + for the opinions of the Cafe David were liberal. The gossip of the + neighborhood was repeated, men so urgently feel the need of laughing at + each other! + </p> + <p> + This cafe, like all cafes for that matter, had its eccentric character in + the person of the said Pere Canquoelle, who had been regular in his + attendance there since 1811, and who seemed to be so completely in harmony + with the good folks who assembled there, that they all talked politics in + his presence without reserve. Sometimes this old fellow, whose + guilelessness was the subject of much laughter to the customers, would + disappear for a month or two; but his absence never surprised anybody, and + was always attributed to his infirmities or his great age, for he looked + more than sixty in 1811. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of old Canquoelle?” one or another would ask of the + manageress at the desk. + </p> + <p> + “I quite expect that one fine day we shall read in the advertisement-sheet + that he is dead,” she would reply. + </p> + <p> + Old Canquoelle bore a perpetual certificate of his native province in his + accent. He spoke of <i>une estatue</i> (a statue), <i>le peuble</i> (the + people), and said <i>ture</i> for <i>turc</i>. His name was that of a tiny + estate called les Canquoelles, a word meaning cockchafer in some + districts, situated in the department of Vaucluse, whence he had come. At + last every one had fallen into the habit of calling him Canquoelle, + instead of des Canquoelles, and the old man took no offence, for in his + opinion the nobility had perished in 1793; and besides, the land of les + Canquoelles did not belong to him; he was a younger son’s younger son. + </p> + <p> + Nowadays old Canquoelle’s costume would look strange, but between 1811 and + 1820 it astonished no one. The old man wore shoes with cut-steel buckles, + silk stockings with stripes round the leg, alternately blue and white, + corded silk knee-breeches with oval buckles cut to match those on his + shoes. A white embroidered waistcoat, an old coat of olive-brown with + metal buttons, and a shirt with a flat-pleated frill completed his + costume. In the middle of the shirt-frill twinkled a small gold locket, in + which might be seen, under glass, a little temple worked in hair, one of + those pathetic trifles which give men confidence, just as a scarecrow + frightens sparrows. Most men, like other animals, are frightened or + reassured by trifles. Old Canquoelle’s breeches were kept in place by a + buckle which, in the fashion of the last century, tightened them across + the stomach; from the belt hung on each side a short steel chain, composed + of several finer chains, and ending in a bunch of seals. His white + neckcloth was fastened behind by a small gold buckle. Finally, on his + snowy and powdered hair, he still, in 1816, wore the municipal cocked hat + which Monsieur Try, the President of the Law Courts, also used to wear. + But Pere Canquoelle had recently substituted for this hat, so dear to old + men, the undignified top-hat, which no one dares to rebel against. The + good man thought he owed so much as this to the spirit of the age. A small + pigtail tied with a ribbon had traced a semicircle on the back of his + coat, the greasy mark being hidden by powder. + </p> + <p> + If you looked no further than the most conspicuous feature of his face, a + nose covered with excrescences red and swollen enough to figure in a dish + of truffles, you might have inferred that the worthy man had an easy + temper, foolish and easy-going, that of a perfect gaby; and you would have + been deceived, like all at the Cafe David, where no one had ever remarked + the studious brow, the sardonic mouth, and the cold eyes of this old man, + petted by his vices, and as calm as Vitellius, whose imperial and portly + stomach reappeared in him palingenetically, so to speak. + </p> + <p> + In 1816 a young commercial traveler named Gaudissart, who frequented the + Cafe David, sat drinking from eleven o’clock till midnight with a half-pay + officer. He was so rash as to discuss a conspiracy against the Bourbons, a + rather serious plot then on the point of execution. There was no one to be + seen in the cafe but Pere Canquoelle, who seemed to be asleep, two waiters + who were dozing, and the accountant at the desk. Within four-and-twenty + hours Gaudissart was arrested, the plot was discovered. Two men perished + on the scaffold. Neither Gaudissart nor any one else ever suspected that + worthy old Canquoelle of having peached. The waiters were dismissed; for a + year they were all on their guard and afraid of the police—as Pere + Canquoelle was too; indeed, he talked of retiring from the Cafe David, + such horror had he of the police. + </p> + <p> + Contenson went into the cafe, asked for a glass of brandy, and did not + look at Canquoelle, who sat reading the papers; but when he had gulped + down the brandy, he took out the Baron’s gold piece, and called the waiter + by rapping three short raps on the table. The lady at the desk and the + waiter examined the coin with a minute care that was not flattering to + Contenson; but their suspicions were justified by the astonishment + produced on all the regular customers by Contenson’s appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Was that gold got by theft or by murder?” + </p> + <p> + This was the idea that rose to some clear and shrewd minds as they looked + at Contenson over their spectacles, while affecting to read the news. + Contenson, who saw everything and never was surprised at anything, + scornfully wiped his lips with a bandana, in which there were but three + darns, took his change, slipped all the coppers into his side pocket, of + which the lining, once white, was now as black as the cloth of the + trousers, and did not leave one for the waiter. + </p> + <p> + “What a gallows-bird!” said Pere Canquoelle to his neighbor Monsieur + Pillerault. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Monsieur Camusot to all the company, for he alone had + expressed no astonishment, “it is Contenson, Louchard’s right-hand man, + the police agent we employ in business. The rascals want to nab some one + who is hanging about perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + It would seem necessary to explain here the terrible and profoundly + cunning man who was hidden under the guise of Pere Canquoelle, as Vautrin + was hidden under that of the Abbe Carlos. + </p> + <p> + Born at Canquoelles, the only possession of his family, which was highly + respectable, this Southerner’s name was Peyrade. He belonged, in fact, to + the younger branch of the Peyrade family, an old but impoverished house of + Franche Comte, still owning the little estate of la Peyrade. The seventh + child of his father, he had come on foot to Paris in 1772 at the age of + seventeen, with two crowns of six francs in his pocket, prompted by the + vices of an ardent spirit and the coarse desire to “get on,” which brings + so many men to Paris from the south as soon as they understand that their + father’s property can never supply them with means to gratify their + passions. It is enough to say of Peyrade’s youth that in 1782 he was in + the confidence of chiefs of the police and the hero of the department, + highly esteemed by MM. Lenoir and d’Albert, the last Lieutenant-Generals + of Police. + </p> + <p> + The Revolution had no police; it needed none. Espionage, though common + enough, was called public spirit. + </p> + <p> + The Directorate, a rather more regular government than that of the + Committee of Public Safety, was obliged to reorganize the Police, and the + first Consul completed the work by instituting a Prefect of Police and a + department of police supervision. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, a man knowing the traditions, collected the force with the + assistance of a man named Corentin, a far cleverer man than Peyrade, + though younger; but he was a genius only in the subterranean ways of + police inquiries. In 1808 the great services Peyrade was able to achieve + were rewarded by an appointment to the eminent position of Chief + Commissioner of Police at Antwerp. In Napoleon’s mind this sort of Police + Governorship was equivalent to a Minister’s post, with the duty of + superintending Holland. At the end of the campaign of 1809, Peyrade was + removed from Antwerp by an order in Council from the Emperor, carried in a + chaise to Paris between two gendarmes, and imprisoned in la Force. Two + months later he was let out on bail furnished by his friend Corentin, + after having been subjected to three examinations, each lasting six hours, + in the office of the head of the Police. + </p> + <p> + Did Peyrade owe his overthrow to the miraculous energy he displayed in + aiding Fouche in the defence of the French coast when threatened by what + was known at the time as the Walcheren expedition, when the Duke of + Otranto manifested such abilities as alarmed the Emperor? Fouche thought + it probable even then; and now, when everybody knows what went on in the + Cabinet Council called together by Cambaceres, it is absolutely certain. + The Ministers, thunderstruck by the news of England’s attempt, a + retaliation on Napoleon for the Boulogne expedition, and taken by surprise + when the Master was entrenched in the island of Lobau, where all Europe + believed him to be lost, had not an idea which way to turn. The general + opinion was in favor of sending post haste to the Emperor; Fouche alone + was bold enough to sketch a plan of campaign, which, in fact, he carried + into execution. + </p> + <p> + “Do as you please,” said Cambaceres; “but I, who prefer to keep my head on + my shoulders, shall send a report to the Emperor.” + </p> + <p> + It is well known that the Emperor on his return found an absurd pretext, + at a full meeting of the Council of State, for discarding his Minister and + punishing him for having saved France without the Sovereign’s help. From + that time forth, Napoleon had doubled the hostility of Prince de + Talleyrand and the Duke of Otranto, the only two great politicians formed + by the Revolution, who might perhaps have been able to save Napoleon in + 1813. + </p> + <p> + To get rid of Peyrade, he was simply accused of connivance in favoring + smuggling and sharing certain profits with the great merchants. Such an + indignity was hard on a man who had earned the Marshal’s baton of the + Police Department by the great services he had done. This man, who had + grown old in active business, knew all the secrets of every Government + since 1775, when he had entered the service. The Emperor, who believed + himself powerful enough to create men for his own uses, paid no heed to + the representations subsequently laid before him in favor of a man who was + reckoned as one of the most trustworthy, most capable, and most acute of + the unknown genii whose task it is to watch over the safety of a State. He + thought he could put Contenson in Peyrade’s place; but Contenson was at + that time employed by Corentin for his own benefit. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade felt the blow all the more keenly because, being greedy and a + libertine, he had found himself, with regard to women, in the position of + a pastry-cook who loves sweetmeats. His habits of vice had become to him a + second nature; he could not live without a good dinner, without gambling, + in short, without the life of an unpretentious fine gentleman, in which + men of powerful faculties so generally indulge when they have allowed + excessive dissipation to become a necessity. Hitherto, he had lived in + style without ever being expected to entertain; and living well, for no + one ever looked for a return from him, or from his friend Corentin. He was + cynically witty, and he liked his profession; he was a philosopher. And + besides, a spy, whatever grade he may hold in the machinery of the police, + can no more return to a profession regarded as honorable or liberal, than + a prisoner from the hulks can. Once branded, once matriculated, spies and + convicts, like deacons, have assumed an indelible character. There are + beings on whom social conditions impose an inevitable fate. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, for his further woe, was very fond of a pretty little girl whom + he knew to be his own child by a celebrated actress to whom he had done a + signal service, and who, for three months, had been grateful to him. + Peyrade, who had sent for his child from Antwerp, now found himself + without employment in Paris and with no means beyond a pension of twelve + hundred francs a year allowed him by the Police Department as Lenoir’s old + disciple. He took lodgings in the Rue des Moineaux on the fourth floor, + five little rooms, at a rent of two hundred and fifty francs. + </p> + <p> + If any man should be aware of the uses and sweets of friendship, is it not + the moral leper known to the world as a spy, to the mob as a <i>mouchard</i>, + to the department as an “agent”? Peyrade and Corentin were such friends as + Orestes and Pylades. Peyrade had trained Corentin as Vien trained David; + but the pupil soon surpassed his master. They had carried out more than + one undertaking together. Peyrade, happy at having discerned Corentin’s + superior abilities, had started him in his career by preparing a success + for him. He obliged his disciple to make use of a mistress who had scorned + him as a bait to catch a man (see <i>The Chouans</i>). And Corentin at + that time was hardly five-and-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Corentin, who had been retained as one of the generals of whom the + Minister of Police is the High Constable, still held under the Duc de + Rovigo the high position he had filled under the Duke of Otranto. Now at + that time the general police and the criminal police were managed on + similar principles. When any important business was on hand, an account + was opened, as it were, for the three, four, five, really capable agents. + The Minister, on being warned of some plot, by whatever means, would say + to one of his colonels of the police force: + </p> + <p> + “How much will you want to achieve this or that result?” + </p> + <p> + Corentin or Contenson would go into the matter and reply: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty, thirty, or forty thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as soon as the order was given to go ahead, all the means and the + men were left to the judgment of Corentin or the agent selected. And the + criminal police used to act in the same way to discover crimes with the + famous Vidocq. + </p> + <p> + Both branches of the police chose their men chiefly from among the ranks + of well-known agents, who have matriculated in the business, and are, as + it were, as soldiers of the secret army, so indispensable to a government, + in spite of the public orations of philanthropists or narrow-minded + moralists. But the absolute confidence placed in two men of the temper of + Peyrade and Corentin conveyed to them the right of employing perfect + strangers, under the risk, moreover, of being responsible to the Minister + in all serious cases. Peyrade’s experience and acumen were too valuable to + Corentin, who, after the storm of 1820 had blown over, employed his old + friend, constantly consulted him, and contributed largely to his + maintenance. Corentin managed to put about a thousand francs a month into + Peyrade’s hands. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, on his part, did Corentin good service. In 1816 Corentin, on the + strength of the discovery of the conspiracy in which the Bonapartist + Gaudissart was implicated, tried to get Peyrade reinstated in his place in + the police office; but some unknown influence was working against Peyrade. + This was the reason why. + </p> + <p> + In their anxiety to make themselves necessary, Peyrade, Corentin, and + Contenson, at the Duke of Otranto’s instigation, had organized for the + benefit of Louis XVIII. a sort of opposition police in which very capable + agents were employed. Louis XVIII. died possessed of secrets which will + remain secrets from the best informed historians. The struggle between the + general police of the kingdom, and the King’s opposition police, led to + many horrible disasters, of which a certain number of executions sealed + the secrets. This is neither the place nor the occasion for entering into + details on this subject, for these “Scenes of Paris Life” are not “Scenes + of Political Life.” Enough has been said to show what were the means of + living of the man who at the Cafe David was known as good old Canquoelle, + and by what threads he was tied to the terrible and mysterious powers of + the police. + </p> + <p> + Between 1817 and 1822, Corentin, Contenson, Peyrade, and their myrmidons, + were often required to keep watch over the Minister of Police himself. + This perhaps explains why the Minister declined to employ Peyrade and + Contenson, on whom Corentin contrived to cast the Minister’s suspicions, + in order to be able to make use of his friend when his reinstatement was + evidently out of the question. The Ministry put their faith in Corentin; + they enjoined him to keep an eye on Peyrade, which amused Louis XVIII. + Corentin and Peyrade were then masters of the position. Contenson, long + attached to Peyrade, was still at his service. He had joined the force of + the commercial police (the Gardes du Commerce) by his friend’s orders. + And, in fact, as a result of the sort of zeal that is inspired by a + profession we love, these two chiefs liked to place their best men in + those posts where information was most likely to flow in. + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, Contenson’s vices and dissipated habits, which had dragged + him lower than his two friends, consumed so much money, that he needed a + great deal of business. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, without committing any indiscretion, had told Louchard that he + knew the only man who was capable of doing what the Baron de Nucingen + required. Peyrade was, in fact, the only police-agent who could act on + behalf of a private individual with impunity. At the death of Louis + XVIII., Peyrade had not only ceased to be of consequence, but had lost the + profits of his position as spy-in-ordinary to His Majesty. Believing + himself to be indispensable, he had lived fast. Women, high feeding, and + the club, the <i>Cercle des Etrangers</i>, had prevented this man from + saving, and, like all men cut out for debauchery, he enjoyed an iron + constitution. But between 1826 and 1829, when he was nearly seventy-four + years of age, he had stuck half-way, to use his own expression. Year by + year he saw his comforts dwindling. He followed the police department to + its grave, and saw with regret that Charles X.‘s government was departing + from its good old traditions. Every session saw the estimates pared down + which were necessary to keep up the police, out of hatred for that method + of government and a firm determination to reform that institution. + </p> + <p> + “It is as if they thought they could cook in white gloves,” said Peyrade + to Corentin. + </p> + <p> + In 1822 this couple foresaw 1830. They knew how bitterly Louis XVIII. + hated his successor, which accounts for his recklessness with regard to + the younger branch, and without which his reign would be an unanswerable + riddle. + </p> + <p> + As Peyrade grew older, his love for his natural daughter had increased. + For her sake he had adopted his citizen guise, for he intended that his + Lydie should marry respectably. So for the last three years he had been + especially anxious to find a corner, either at the Prefecture of Police, + or in the general Police Office—some ostensible and recognized post. + He had ended by inventing a place, of which the necessity, as he told + Corentin, would sooner or later be felt. He was anxious to create an + inquiry office at the Prefecture of Police, to be intermediate between the + Paris police in the strictest sense, the criminal police, and the superior + general police, so as to enable the supreme board to profit by the various + scattered forces. No one but Peyrade, at his age, and after fifty-five + years of confidential work, could be the connecting link between the three + branches of the police, or the keeper of the records to whom political and + judicial authority alike could apply for the elucidation of certain cases. + By this means Peyrade hoped, with Corentin’s assistance, to find a husband + and scrape together a portion for his little Lydie. Corentin had already + mentioned the matter to the Director-General of the police forces of the + realm, without naming Peyrade; and the Director-General, a man from the + south, thought it necessary that the suggestion should come from the chief + of the city police. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when Contenson struck three raps on the table with the gold + piece, a signal conveying, “I want to speak to you,” the senior was + reflecting on this problem: “By whom, and under what pressure can the + Prefet of Police be made to move?”—And he looked like a noodle + studying his <i>Courrier Francais</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Fouche!” thought he to himself, as he made his way along the Rue + Saint-Honore, “that great man is dead! our go-betweens with Louis XVIII. + are out of favor. And besides, as Corentin said only yesterday, nobody + believes in the activity or the intelligence of a man of seventy. Oh, why + did I get into a habit of dining at Very’s, of drinking choice wines, of + singing <i>La Mere Godichon</i>, of gambling when I am in funds? To get a + place and keep it, as Corentin says, it is not enough to be clever, you + must have the gift of management. Poor dear M. Lenoir was right when he + wrote to me in the matter of the Queen’s necklace, ‘You will never do any + good,’ when he heard that I did not stay under that slut Oliva’s bed.” + </p> + <p> + If the venerable Pere Canquoelle—he was called so in the house—lived + on in the Rue des Moineaux, on a fourth floor, you may depend on it he had + found some peculiarity in the arrangement of the premises which favored + the practice of his terrible profession. + </p> + <p> + The house, standing at the corner of the Rue Saint-Roch, had no neighbors + on one side; and as the staircase up the middle divided it into two, there + were on each floor two perfectly isolated rooms. Those two rooms looked + out on the Rue Saint-Roch. There were garret rooms above the fourth floor, + one of them a kitchen, and the other a bedroom for Pere Canquoelle’s only + servant, a Fleming named Katt, formerly Lydie’s wet-nurse. Old Canquoelle + had taken one of the outside rooms for his bedroom, and the other for his + study. The study ended at the party-wall, a very thick one. The window + opening on the Rue des Moineaux looked on a blank wall at the opposite + corner. As this study was divided from the stairs by the whole width of + Peyrade’s bedroom, the friends feared no eye, no ear, as they talked + business in this study made on purpose for his detestable trade. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, as a further precaution, had furnished Katt’s room with a thick + straw bed, a felt carpet, and a very heavy rug, under the pretext of + making his child’s nurse comfortable. He had also stopped up the chimney, + warming his room by a stove, with a pipe through the wall to the Rue + Saint-Roch. Finally, he laid several rugs on his floor to prevent the + slightest sound being heard by the neighbors beneath. An expert himself in + the tricks of spies, he sounded the outer wall, the ceiling, and the floor + once a week, examining them as if he were in search of noxious insects. It + was the security of this room from all witnesses or listeners that had + made Corentin select it as his council-chamber when he did not hold a + meeting in his own room. + </p> + <p> + Where Corentin lived was known to no one but the Chief of the Superior + Police and to Peyrade; he received there such personages as the Ministry + or the King selected to conduct very serious cases; but no agent or + subordinate ever went there, and he plotted everything connected with + their business at Peyrade’s. In this unpretentious room schemes were + matured, and resolutions passed, which would have furnished strange + records and curious dramas if only walls could talk. Between 1816 and 1826 + the highest interests were discussed there. There first germinated the + events which grew to weigh on France. There Peyrade and Corentin, with all + the foresight, and more than all the information of Bellart, the + Attorney-General, had said even in 1819: “If Louis XVIII. does not consent + to strike such or such a blow, to make away with such or such a prince, is + it because he hates his brother? He must wish to leave him heir to a + revolution.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade’s door was graced with a slate, on which very strange marks might + sometimes be seen, figures scrawled in chalk. This sort of devil’s algebra + bore the clearest meaning to the initiated. + </p> + <p> + Lydie’s rooms, opposite to Peyrade’s shabby lodging, consisted of an + ante-room, a little drawing-room, a bedroom, and a small dressing-room. + The door, like that of Peyrade’s room, was constructed of a plate of + sheet-iron three lines thick, sandwiched between two strong oak planks, + fitted with locks and elaborate hinges, making it as impossible to force + it as if it were a prison door. Thus, though the house had a public + passage through it, with a shop below and no doorkeeper, Lydie lived there + without a fear. The dining-room, the little drawing-room, and her bedroom—every + window-balcony a hanging garden—were luxurious in their Dutch + cleanliness. + </p> + <p> + The Flemish nurse had never left Lydie, whom she called her daughter. The + two went to church with a regularity that gave the royalist grocer, who + lived below, in the corner shop, an excellent opinion of the worthy + Canquoelle. The grocer’s family, kitchen, and counter-jumpers occupied the + first floor and the entresol; the landlord inhabited the second floor; and + the third had been let for twenty years past to a lapidary. Each resident + had a key of the street door. The grocer’s wife was all the more willing + to receive letters and parcels addressed to these three quiet households, + because the grocer’s shop had a letter-box. + </p> + <p> + Without these details, strangers, or even those who know Paris well, could + not have understood the privacy and quietude, the isolation and safety + which made this house exceptional in Paris. After midnight, Pere + Canquoelle could hatch plots, receive spies or ministers, wives or + hussies, without any one on earth knowing anything about it. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, of whom the Flemish woman would say to the grocer’s cook, “He + would not hurt a fly!” was regarded as the best of men. He grudged his + daughter nothing. Lydie, who had been taught music by Schmucke, was + herself a musician capable of composing; she could wash in a sepia + drawing, and paint in gouache and water-color. Every Sunday Peyrade dined + at home with her. On that day this worthy was wholly paternal. + </p> + <p> + Lydie, religious but not a bigot, took the Sacrament at Easter, and + confessed every month. Still, she allowed herself from time to time to be + treated to the play. She walked in the Tuileries when it was fine. These + were all her pleasures, for she led a sedentary life. Lydie, who worshiped + her father, knew absolutely nothing of his sinister gifts and dark + employments. Not a wish had ever disturbed this pure child’s pure life. + Slight and handsome like her mother, gifted with an exquisite voice, and a + delicate face framed in fine fair hair, she looked like one of those + angels, mystical rather than real, which some of the early painters + grouped in the background of the Holy Family. The glance of her blue eyes + seemed to bring a beam from the sky on those she favored with a look. Her + dress, quite simple, with no exaggeration of fashion, had a delightful + middle-class modesty. Picture to yourself an old Satan as the father of an + angel, and purified in her divine presence, and you will have an idea of + Peyrade and his daughter. If anybody had soiled this jewel, her father + would have invented, to swallow him alive, one of those dreadful plots in + which, under the Restoration, the unhappy wretches were trapped who were + designate to die on the scaffold. A thousand crowns were ample maintenance + for Lydie and Katt, whom she called nurse. + </p> + <p> + As Peyrade turned into the Rue des Moineaux, he saw Contenson; he + outstripped him, went upstairs before him, heard the man’s steps on the + stairs, and admitted him before the woman had put her nose out of the + kitchen door. A bell rung by the opening of a glass door, on the third + story where the lapidary lived warned the residents on that and the fourth + floors when a visitor was coming to them. It need hardly be said that, + after midnight, Peyrade muffled this bell. + </p> + <p> + “What is up in such a hurry, Philosopher?” + </p> + <p> + Philosopher was the nickname bestowed on Contenson by Peyrade, and well + merited by the Epictetus among police agents. The name of Contenson, alas! + hid one of the most ancient names of feudal Normandy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there is something like ten thousand francs to be netted.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Political?” + </p> + <p> + “No, a piece of idiocy. Baron de Nucingen, you know, the old certified + swindler, is neighing after a woman he saw in the Bois de Vincennes, and + she has got to be found, or he will die of love.—They had a + consultation of doctors yesterday, by what his man tells me.—I have + already eased him of a thousand francs under pretence of seeking the fair + one.” + </p> + <p> + And Contenson related Nucingen’s meeting with Esther, adding that the + Baron had now some further information. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Peyrade, “we will find his Dulcinea; tell the Baron to + come to-night in a carriage to the Champs-Elysees—the corner of the + Avenue de Gabriel and the Allee de Marigny.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade saw Contenson out, and knocked at his daughter’s rooms, as he + always knocked to be let in. He was full of glee; chance had just offered + the means, at last, of getting the place he longed for. + </p> + <p> + He flung himself into a deep armchair, after kissing Lydie on the + forehead, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Play me something.” + </p> + <p> + Lydie played him a composition for the piano by Beethoven. + </p> + <p> + “That is very well played, my pet,” said he, taking Lydie on his knees. + “Do you know that we are one-and-twenty years old? We must get married + soon, for our old daddy is more than seventy——” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite happy here,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “You love no one but your ugly old father?” asked Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Why, whom should I love?” + </p> + <p> + “I am dining at home, my darling; go and tell Katt. I am thinking of + settling, of getting an appointment, and finding a husband worthy of you; + some good young man, very clever, whom you may some day be proud of——” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen but one yet that I should have liked for a husband——” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen one then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in the Tuileries,” replied Lydie. “He walked past me; he was giving + his arm to the Comtesse de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “And his name is?” + </p> + <p> + “Lucien de Rubempre.—I was sitting with Katt under a lime-tree, + thinking of nothing. There were two ladies sitting by me, and one said to + the other, ‘There are Madame de Serizy and that handsome Lucien de + Rubempre.’—I looked at the couple that the two ladies were watching. + ‘Oh, my dear!’ said the other, ‘some women are very lucky! That woman is + allowed to do everything she pleases just because she was a de + Ronquerolles, and her husband is in power.’—‘But, my dear,’ said the + other lady, ‘Lucien costs her very dear.’—What did she mean, papa?” + </p> + <p> + “Just nonsense, such as people of fashion will talk,” replied Peyrade, + with an air of perfect candor. “Perhaps they were alluding to political + matters.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, in short, you asked me a question, so I answer you. If you want me + to marry, find me a husband just like that young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Silly child!” replied her father. “The fact that a man is handsome is not + always a sign of goodness. Young men gifted with an attractive appearance + meet with no obstacles at the beginning of life, so they make no use of + any talent; they are corrupted by the advances made to them by society, + and they have to pay interest later for their attractiveness!—What I + should like for you is what the middle classes, the rich, and the fools + leave unholpen and unprotected——” + </p> + <p> + “What, father?” + </p> + <p> + “An unrecognized man of talent. But, there, child; I have it in my power + to hunt through every garret in Paris, and carry out your programme by + offering for your affection a man as handsome as the young scamp you speak + of; but a man of promise, with a future before him destined to glory and + fortune.—By the way, I was forgetting. I must have a whole flock of + nephews, and among them there must be one worthy of you!—I will + write, or get some one to write to Provence.” + </p> + <p> + A strange coincidence! At this moment a young man, half-dead of hunger and + fatigue, who had come on foot from the department of Vaucluse—a + nephew of Pere Canquoelle’s in search of his uncle, was entering Paris + through the Barriere de l’Italie. In the day-dreams of the family, + ignorant of this uncle’s fate, Peyrade had supplied the text for many + hopes; he was supposed to have returned from India with millions! + Stimulated by these fireside romances, this grand-nephew, named Theodore, + had started on a voyage round the world in quest of this eccentric uncle. + </p> + <p> + After enjoying for some hours the joys of paternity, Peyrade, his hair + washed and dyed—for his powder was a disguise—dressed in a + stout, coarse, blue frock-coat buttoned up to the chin, and a black cloak, + shod in strong, thick-soled boots, furnished himself with a private card + and walked slowly along the Avenue Gabriel, where Contenson, dressed as an + old costermonger woman, met him in front of the gardens of the + Elysee-Bourbon. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Saint-Germain,” said Contenson, giving his old chief the name + he was officially known by, “you have put me in the way of making five + hundred pieces (francs); but what I came here for was to tell you that + that damned Baron, before he gave me the shiners, had been to ask + questions at the house (the Prefecture of Police).” + </p> + <p> + “I shall want you, no doubt,” replied Peyrade. “Look up numbers 7, 10, and + 21; we can employ those men without any one finding it out, either at the + Police Ministry or at the Prefecture.” + </p> + <p> + Contenson went back to a post near the carriage in which Monsieur de + Nucingen was waiting for Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “I am Monsieur de Saint-Germain,” said Peyrade to the Baron, raising + himself to look over the carriage door. + </p> + <p> + “Ver’ goot; get in mit me,” replied the Baron, ordering the coachman to go + on slowly to the Arc de l’Etoile. + </p> + <p> + “You have been to the Prefecture of Police, Monsieur le Baron? That was + not fair. Might I ask what you said to M. le Prefet, and what he said in + reply?” asked Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Before I should gif fife hundert francs to a filain like Contenson, I + vant to know if he had earned dem. I simply said to the Prefet of Police + dat I vant to employ ein agent named Peyrate to go abroat in a delicate + matter, an’ should I trust him—unlimited!—The Prefet telt me + you vas a very clefer man an’ ver’ honest man. An’ dat vas everything.” + </p> + <p> + “And now that you have learned my true name, Monsieur le Baron, will you + tell me what it is you want?” + </p> + <p> + When the Baron had given a long and copious explanation, in his hideous + Polish-Jew dialect, of his meeting with Esther and the cry of the man + behind the carriage, and his vain efforts, he ended by relating what had + occurred at his house the night before, Lucien’s involuntary smile, and + the opinion expressed by Bianchon and some other young dandies that there + must be some acquaintance between him and the unknown fair. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, Monsieur le Baron; you must, in the first instance, place + ten thousand francs in my hands, on account for expenses; for, to you, + this is a matter of life or death; and as your life is a + business-manufactory, nothing must be left undone to find this woman for + you. Oh, you are caught!——” + </p> + <p> + “Ja, I am caught!” + </p> + <p> + “If more money is wanted, Baron, I will let you know; put your trust in + me,” said Peyrade. “I am not a spy, as you perhaps imagine. In 1807 I was + Commissioner-General of Police at Antwerp; and now that Louis XVIII. is + dead, I may tell you in confidence that for seven years I was the chief of + his counter-police. So there is no beating me down. You must understand, + Monsieur le Baron, that it is impossible to make any estimate of the cost + of each man’s conscience before going into the details of such an affair. + Be quite easy; I shall succeed. Do not fancy that you can satisfy me with + a sum of money; I want something for my reward——” + </p> + <p> + “So long as dat is not a kingtom!” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “It is less than nothing to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Den I am your man.” + </p> + <p> + “You know the Kellers?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! ver’ well.” + </p> + <p> + “Francois Keller is the Comte de Gondreville’s son-in-law, and the Comte + de Gondreville and his son-in-law dined with you yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Who der teufel tolt you dat?” cried the Baron. “Dat vill be Georche; he + is always a gossip.” Peyrade smiled, and the banker at once formed strange + suspicions of his man-servant. + </p> + <p> + “The Comte de Gondreville is quite in a position to obtain me a place I + covet at the Prefecture of Police; within forty-eight hours the prefet + will have notice that such a place is to be created,” said Peyrade in + continuation. “Ask for it for me; get the Comte de Gondreville to interest + himself in the matter with some degree of warmth—and you will thus + repay me for the service I am about to do you. I ask your word only; for, + if you fail me, sooner or later you will curse the day you were born—you + have Peyrade’s word for that.” + </p> + <p> + “I gif you mein vort of honor to do vat is possible.” + </p> + <p> + “If I do no more for you than is possible, it will not be enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell, vell, I vill act qvite frankly.” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly—that is all I ask,” said Peyrade, “and frankness is the + only thing at all new that you and I can offer to each other.” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly,” echoed the Baron. “Vere shall I put you down.” + </p> + <p> + “At the corner of the Pont Louis XVI.” + </p> + <p> + “To the Pont de la Chambre,” said the Baron to the footman at the carriage + door. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am to get dat unknown person,” said the Baron to himself as he + drove home. + </p> + <p> + “What a queer business!” thought Peyrade, going back on foot to the + Palais-Royal, where he intended trying to multiply his ten thousand francs + by three, to make a little fortune for Lydie. “Here I am required to look + into the private concerns of a very young man who has bewitched my little + girl by a glance. He is, I suppose, one of those men who have an eye for a + woman,” said he to himself, using an expression of a language of his own, + in which his observations, or Corentin’s, were summed up in words that + were anything rather than classical, but, for that very reason, energetic + and picturesque. + </p> + <p> + The Baron de Nucingen, when he went in, was an altered man; he astonished + his household and his wife by showing them a face full of life and color, + so cheerful did he feel. + </p> + <p> + “Our shareholders had better look out for themselves,” said du Tillet to + Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + They were all at tea, in Delphine de Nucingen’s boudoir, having come in + from the opera. + </p> + <p> + “Ja,” said the Baron, smiling; “I feel ver’ much dat I shall do some + business.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have seen the fair being?” asked Madame de Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he; “I have only hoped to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Do men ever love their wives so?” cried Madame de Nucingen, feeling, or + affecting to feel, a little jealous. + </p> + <p> + “When you have got her, you must ask us to sup with her,” said du Tillet + to the Baron, “for I am very curious to study the creature who has made + you so young as you are.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a <i>cheff-d’oeufre</i> of creation!” replied the old banker. + </p> + <p> + “He will be swindled like a boy,” said Rastignac in Delphine’s ear. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! he makes quite enough money to——” + </p> + <p> + “To give a little back, I suppose,” said du Tillet, interrupting the + Baroness. + </p> + <p> + Nucingen was walking up and down the room as if his legs had the fidgets. + </p> + <p> + “Now is your time to make him pay your fresh debts,” said Rastignac in the + Baroness’ ear. + </p> + <p> + At this very moment Carlos was leaving the Rue Taitbout full of hope; he + had been there to give some last advice to Europe, who was to play the + principal part in the farce devised to take in the Baron de Nucingen. He + was accompanied as far as the Boulevard by Lucien, who was not at all easy + at finding this demon so perfectly disguised that even he had only + recognized him by his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil did you find a handsomer woman than Esther?” he asked his + evil genius. + </p> + <p> + “My boy, there is no such thing to be found in Paris. Such a complexion is + not made in France.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, I am still quite amazed. Venus Callipyge has not such a + figure. A man would lose his soul for her. But where did she spring from?” + </p> + <p> + “She was the handsomest girl in London. Drunk with gin, she killed her + lover in a fit of jealousy. The lover was a wretch of whom the London + police are well quit, and this woman was packed off to Paris for a time to + let the matter blow over. The hussy was well brought up—the daughter + of a clergyman. She speaks French as if it were her mother tongue. She + does not know, and never will know, why she is here. She was told that if + you took a fancy to her she might fleece you of millions, but that you + were as jealous as a tiger, and she was told how Esther lived.” + </p> + <p> + “But supposing Nucingen should prefer her to Esther?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, it is out at last!” cried Carlos. “You dread now lest what dismayed + you yesterday should not take place after all! Be quite easy. That fair + and fair-haired girl has blue eyes; she is the antipodes of the beautiful + Jewess, and only such eyes as Esther’s could ever stir a man so rotten as + Nucingen. What the devil! you could not hide an ugly woman. When this + puppet has played her part, I will send her off in safe custody to Rome or + to Madrid, where she will be the rage.” + </p> + <p> + “If we have her only for a short time,” said Lucien, “I will go back to + her——” + </p> + <p> + “Go, my boy, amuse yourself. You will be a day older to-morrow. For my + part, I must wait for some one whom I have instructed to learn what is + going on at the Baron de Nucingen’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “His valet’s mistress; for, after all, we must keep ourselves informed at + every moment of what is going on in the enemy’s camp.” + </p> + <p> + At midnight, Paccard, Esther’s tall chasseur, met Carlos on the Pont des + Arts, the most favorable spot in all Paris for saying a few words which no + one must overhear. All the time they talked the servant kept an eye on one + side, while his master looked out on the other. + </p> + <p> + “The Baron went to the Prefecture of Police this morning between four and + five,” said the man, “and he boasted this evening that he should find the + woman he saw in the Bois de Vincennes—he had been promised it——” + </p> + <p> + “We are watched!” said Carlos. “By whom?” + </p> + <p> + “They have already employed Louchard the bailiff.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be child’s play,” replied Carlos. “We need fear nothing but + the guardians of public safety, the criminal police; and so long as that + is not set in motion, we can go on!” + </p> + <p> + “That is not all.” + </p> + <p> + “What else?” + </p> + <p> + “Our chums of the hulks.—I saw Lapouraille yesterday——He + has choked off a married couple, and has bagged ten thousand five-franc + pieces—in gold.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be nabbed,” said Jacques Collin. “That is the Rue Boucher crime.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the order of the day?” said Paccard, with the respectful demeanor + a marshal must have assumed when taking his orders from Louis XVIII. + </p> + <p> + “You must get out every evening at ten o’clock,” replied Herrera. “Make + your way pretty briskly to the Bois de Vincennes, the Bois de Meudon, and + de Ville-d’Avray. If any one should follow you, let them do it; be free of + speech, chatty, open to a bribe. Talk about Rubempre’s jealousy and his + mad passion for madame, saying that he would not on any account have it + known that he had a mistress of that kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough.—Must I have any weapons?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” exclaimed Carlos vehemently. “A weapon? Of what use would that + be? To get us into a scrape. Do not under any circumstances use your + hunting-knife. When you know that you can break the strongest man’s legs + by the trick I showed you—when you can hold your own against three + armed warders, feeling quite sure that you can account for two of them + before they have got out flint and steel, what is there to be afraid of? + Have not you your cane?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + Paccard, nicknamed The Old Guard, Old Wide-Awake, or The Right Man—a + man with legs of iron, arms of steel, Italian whiskers, hair like an + artist’s, a beard like a sapper’s, and a face as colorless and immovable + as Contenson’s, kept his spirit to himself, and rejoiced in a sort of + drum-major appearance which disarmed suspicion. A fugitive from Poissy or + Melun has no such serious self-consciousness and belief in his own merit. + As Giafar to the Haroun el Rasheed of the hulks, he served him with the + friendly admiration which Peyrade felt for Corentin. + </p> + <p> + This huge fellow, with a small body in proportion to his legs, + flat-chested, and lean of limb, stalked solemnly about on his two long + pins. Whenever his right leg moved, his right eye took in everything + around him with the placid swiftness peculiar to thieves and spies. The + left eye followed the right eye’s example. Wiry, nimble, ready for + anything at any time, but for a weakness of Dutch courage Paccard would + have been perfect, Jacques Collin used to say, so completely was he + endowed with the talents indispensable to a man at war with society; but + the master had succeeded in persuading his slave to drink only in the + evening. On going home at night, Paccard tippled the liquid gold poured + into small glasses out of a pot-bellied stone jar from Danzig. + </p> + <p> + “We will make them open their eyes,” said Paccard, putting on his grand + hat and feathers after bowing to Carlos, whom he called his Confessor. + </p> + <p> + These were the events which had led three men, so clever, each in his way, + as Jacques Collin, Peyrade, and Corentin, to a hand-to-hand fight on the + same ground, each exerting his talents in a struggle for his own passions + or interests. It was one of those obscure but terrible conflicts on which + are expended in marches and countermarches, in strategy, skill, hatred, + and vexation, the powers that might make a fine fortune. Men and means + were kept absolutely secret by Peyarde, seconded in this business by his + friend Corentin—a business they thought but a trifle. And so, as to + them, history is silent, as it is on the true causes of many revolutions. + </p> + <p> + But this was the result. + </p> + <p> + Five days after Monsieur de Nucingen’s interview with Peyrade in the + Champs Elysees, a man of about fifty called in the morning, stepping out + of a handsome cab, and flinging the reins to his servant. He had the + dead-white complexion which a life in the “world” gives to diplomates, was + dressed in blue cloth, and had a general air of fashion—almost that + of a Minister of State. + </p> + <p> + He inquired of the servant who sat on a bench on the steps whether the + Baron de Nucingen were at home; and the man respectfully threw open the + splendid plate-glass doors. + </p> + <p> + “Your name, sir?” said the footman. + </p> + <p> + “Tell the Baron that I have come from the Avenue Gabriel,” said Corentin. + “If anybody is with him, be sure not to say so too loud, or you will find + yourself out of place!” + </p> + <p> + A minute later the man came back and led Corentin by the back passages to + the Baron’s private room. + </p> + <p> + Corentin and the banker exchanged impenetrable glances, and both bowed + politely. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron,” said Corentin, “I come in the name of Peyrade——” + </p> + <p> + “Ver’ gott!” said the Baron, fastening the bolts of both doors. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Rubempre’s mistress lives in the Rue Taitbout, in the + apartment formerly occupied by Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille, M. de + Granville’s ex-mistress—the Attorney-General——” + </p> + <p> + “Vat, so near to me?” exclaimed the Baron. “Dat is ver’ strange.” + </p> + <p> + “I can quite understand your being crazy about that splendid creature; it + was a pleasure to me to look at her,” replied Corentin. “Lucien is so + jealous of the girl that he never allows her to be seen; and she loves him + devotedly; for in four years, since she succeeded la Bellefeuille in those + rooms, inheriting her furniture and her profession, neither the neighbors, + nor the porter, nor the other tenants in the house have ever set eyes on + her. My lady never stirs out but at night. When she sets out, the blinds + of the carriage are pulled down, and she is closely veiled. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien has other reasons besides jealousy for concealing this woman. He + is to be married to Clotilde de Grandlieu, and he is at this moment Madame + de Serizy’s favorite fancy. He naturally wishes to keep a hold on his + fashionable mistress and on his promised bride. So, you are master of the + position, for Lucien will sacrifice his pleasure to his interests and his + vanity. You are rich; this is probably your last chance of happiness; be + liberal. You can gain your end through her waiting-maid. Give the slut ten + thousand francs; she will hide you in her mistress’ bedroom. It must be + quite worth that to you.” + </p> + <p> + No figure of speech could describe the short, precise tone of finality in + which Corentin spoke; the Baron could not fail to observe it, and his face + expressed his astonishment—an expression he had long expunged from + his impenetrable features. + </p> + <p> + “I have also to ask you for five thousand francs for my friend Peyrade, + who has dropped five of your thousand-franc notes—a tiresome + accident,” Corentin went on, in a lordly tone of command. “Peyrade knows + his Paris too well to spend money in advertising, and he trusts entirely + to you. But this is not the most important point,” added Corentin, + checking himself in such a way as to make the request for money seem quite + a trifle. “If you do not want to end your days miserably, get the place + for Peyrade that he asked you to procure for him—and it is a thing + you can easily do. The Chief of the General Police must have had notice of + the matter yesterday. All that is needed is to get Gondreville to speak to + the Prefet of Police.—Very well, just say to Malin, Comte de + Gondreville, that it is to oblige one of the men who relieved him of MM. + de Simeuse, and he will work it——” + </p> + <p> + “Here den, mensieur,” said the Baron, taking out five thousand-franc notes + and handing them to Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “The waiting-maid is great friends with a tall chasseur named Paccard, + living in the Rue de Provence, over a carriage-builder’s; he goes out as + heyduque to persons who give themselves princely airs. You can get at + Madame van Bogseck’s woman through Paccard, a brawny Piemontese, who has a + liking for vermouth.” + </p> + <p> + This information, gracefully thrown in as a postscript, was evidently the + return for the five thousand francs. The Baron was trying to guess + Corentin’s place in life, for he quite understood that the man was rather + a master of spies than a spy himself; but Corentin remained to him as + mysterious as an inscription is to an archaeologist when three-quarters of + the letters are missing. + </p> + <p> + “Vat is dat maid called?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie,” replied Corentin, who bowed and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + The Baron, in a transport of joy, left his business for the day, shut up + his office, and went up to his rooms in the happy frame of mind of a young + man of twenty looking forward to his first meeting with his first + mistress. + </p> + <p> + The Baron took all the thousand-franc notes out of his private cash-box—a + sum sufficient to make the whole village happy, fifty-five thousand francs—and + stuffed them into the pocket of his coat. But a millionaire’s lavishness + can only be compared with his eagerness for gain. As soon as a whim or a + passion is to be gratified, money is dross to a Croesus; in fact, he finds + it harder to have whims than gold. A keen pleasure is the rarest thing in + these satiated lives, full of the excitement that comes of great strokes + of speculation, in which these dried-up hearts have burned themselves out. + </p> + <p> + For instance, one of the richest capitalists in Paris one day met an + extremely pretty little working-girl. Her mother was with her, but the + girl had taken the arm of a young fellow in very doubtful finery, with a + very smart swagger. The millionaire fell in love with the girl at first + sight; he followed her home, he went in; he heard all her story, a record + of alternations of dancing at Mabille and days of starvation, of + play-going and hard work; he took an interest in it, and left five + thousand-franc notes under a five-franc piece—an act of generosity + abused. Next day a famous upholsterer, Braschon, came to take the damsel’s + orders, furnished rooms that she had chosen, and laid out twenty thousand + francs. She gave herself up to the wildest hopes, dressed her mother to + match, and flattered herself she would find a place for her ex-lover in an + insurance office. She waited—a day, two days—then a week, two + weeks. She thought herself bound to be faithful; she got into debt. The + capitalist, called away to Holland, had forgotten the girl; he never went + once to the Paradise where he had placed her, and from which she fell as + low as it is possible to fall even in Paris. + </p> + <p> + Nucingen did not gamble, Nucingen did not patronize the Arts, Nucingen had + no hobby; thus he flung himself into his passion for Esther with a + headlong blindness, on which Carlos Herrera had confidently counted. + </p> + <p> + After his breakfast, the Baron sent for Georges, his body-servant, and + desired him to go to the Rue Taitbout and ask Mademoiselle Eugenie, Madame + van Bogseck’s maid, to come to his office on a matter of importance. + </p> + <p> + “You shall look out for her,” he added, “an’ make her valk up to my room, + and tell her I shall make her fortune.” + </p> + <p> + Georges had the greatest difficulty in persuading Europe-Eugenie to come. + </p> + <p> + “Madame never lets me go out,” said she; “I might lose my place,” and so + forth; and Georges sang her praises loudly to the Baron, who gave him ten + louis. + </p> + <p> + “If madame goes out without her this evening,” said Georges to his master, + whose eyes glowed like carbuncles, “she will be here by ten o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Goot. You shall come to dress me at nine o’clock—and do my hair. I + shall look so goot as possible. I belief I shall really see dat mistress—or + money is not money any more.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron spent an hour, from noon till one, in dyeing his hair and + whiskers. At nine in the evening, having taken a bath before dinner, he + made a toilet worthy of a bridegroom and scented himself—a perfect + Adonis. Madame de Nucingen, informed of this metamorphosis, gave herself + the treat of inspecting her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” cried she, “what a ridiculous figure! Do, at least, put on + a black satin stock instead of that white neckcloth which makes your + whiskers look so black; besides, it is so ‘Empire,’ quite the old fogy. + You look like some super-annuated parliamentary counsel. And take off + these diamond buttons; they are worth a hundred thousand francs apiece—that + slut will ask you for them, and you will not be able to refuse her; and if + a baggage is to have them, I may as well wear them as earrings.” + </p> + <p> + The unhappy banker, struck by the wisdom of his wife’s reflections, obeyed + reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “Ridikilous, ridikilous! I hafe never telt you dat you shall be ridikilous + when you dressed yourself so smart to see your little Mensieur de + Rastignac!” + </p> + <p> + “I should hope that you never saw me make myself ridiculous. Am I the + woman to make such blunders in the first syllable of my dress? Come, turn + about. Button your coat up to the neck, all but the two top buttons, as + the Duc de Maufrigneuse does. In short, try to look young.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Georges, “here is Mademoiselle Eugenie.” + </p> + <p> + “Adie, motame,” said the banker, and he escorted his wife as far as her + own rooms, to make sure that she should not overhear their conference. + </p> + <p> + On his return, he took Europe by the hand and led her into his room with a + sort of ironical respect. + </p> + <p> + “Vell, my chilt, you are a happy creature, for you are de maid of dat most + beautiful voman in de vorlt. And your fortune shall be made if you vill + talk to her for me and in mine interests.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not do such a thing for ten thousand francs!” exclaimed Europe. + “I would have you to know, Monsieur le Baron, that I am an honest girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. I expect to pay dear for your honesty. In business dat is vat ve + call curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is not everything,” Europe went on. “If you should not take + madame’s fancy—and that is on the cards—she would be angry, + and I am done for!—and my place is worth a thousand francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “De capital to make ein tousant franc is twenty tousand franc; and if I + shall gif you dat, you shall not lose noting.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, to be sure, if that is the tone you take about it, my worthy old + fellow,” said Europe, “that is quite another story.—Where is the + money?” + </p> + <p> + “Here,” replied the Baron, holding up the banknotes, one at a time. + </p> + <p> + He noted the flash struck by each in turn from Europe’s eyes, betraying + the greed he had counted on. + </p> + <p> + “That pays for my place, but how about my principles, my conscience?” said + Europe, cocking her crafty little nose and giving the Baron a serio-comic + leer. + </p> + <p> + “Your conscience shall not be pait for so much as your place; but I shall + say fife tousand franc more,” said he adding five thousand-franc notes. + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Twenty thousand for my conscience, and five thousand for my place + if I lose it——” + </p> + <p> + “Yust vat you please,” said he, adding the five notes. “But to earn dem + you shall hite me in your lady’s room by night ven she shall be ‘lone.” + </p> + <p> + “If you swear never to tell who let you in, I agree. But I warn you of one + thing.—Madame is as strong as a Turk, she is madly in love with + Monsieur de Rubempre, and if you paid a million francs in banknotes she + would never be unfaithful to him. It is very silly, but that is her way + when she is in love; she is worse than an honest woman, I tell you! When + she goes out for a drive in the woods at night, monsieur very seldom stays + at home. She is gone out this evening, so I can hide you in my room. If + madame comes in alone, I will fetch you; you can wait in the drawing-room. + I will not lock the door into her room, and then—well, the rest is + your concern—so be ready.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay you the twenty-fife tousand francs in dat drawing-room.—You + gife—I gife!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Europe, “you are so confiding as all that? On my word!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you will hafe your chance to fleece me yet. We shall be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, be in the Rue Taitbout at midnight; but bring thirty thousand + francs about you. A waiting-woman’s honesty, like a hackney cab, is much + dearer after midnight.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be more prudent if I gif you a cheque on my bank——” + </p> + <p> + “No, no” said Europe. “Notes, or the bargain is off.” + </p> + <p> + So at one in the morning the Baron de Nucingen, hidden in the garret where + Europe slept, was suffering all the anxieties of a man who hopes to + triumph. His blood seemed to him to be tingling in his toe-nails, and his + head ready to burst like an overheated steam engine. + </p> + <p> + “I had more dan one hundert tousand crowns’ vort of enjoyment—in my + mind,” he said to du Tillet when telling him the story. + </p> + <p> + He listened to every little noise in the street, and at two in the morning + he heard his mistress’ carriage far away on the boulevard. His heart beat + vehemently under his silk waistcoat as the gate turned on its hinges. He + was about to behold the heavenly, the glowing face of his Esther!—the + clatter of the carriage-step and the slam of the door struck upon his + heart. He was more agitated in expectation of this supreme moment than he + would have been if his fortune had been at stake. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha!” cried he, “dis is vat I call to lif—it is too much to lif; + I shall be incapable of everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame is alone; come down,” said Europe, looking in. “Above all, make no + noise, great elephant.” + </p> + <p> + “Great Elephant!” he repeated, laughing, and walking as if he trod on + red-hot iron. + </p> + <p> + Europe led the way, carrying a candle. + </p> + <p> + “Here—count dem!” said the Baron when he reached the drawing-room, + holding out the notes to Europe. + </p> + <p> + Europe took the thirty notes very gravely and left the room, locking the + banker in. + </p> + <p> + Nucingen went straight to the bedroom, where he found the handsome + Englishwoman. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Lucien?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Nein, my peauty,” said Nucingen, but he said no more. + </p> + <p> + He stood speechless on seeing a woman the very antipodes to Esther; fair + hair where he had seen black, slenderness where he had admired a powerful + frame! A soft English evening where he had looked for the bright sun of + Arabia. + </p> + <p> + “Heyday! were have you come from?—who are you?—what do you + want?” cried the Englishwoman, pulling the bell, which made no sound. + </p> + <p> + “The bells dey are in cotton-vool, but hafe not any fear—I shall go + ‘vay,” said he. “Dat is dirty tousant franc I hafe tron in de vater. Are + you dat mistress of Mensieur Lucien de Rubempre?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather, my son,” said the lady, who spoke French well, “But vat vas you?” + she went on, mimicking Nucingen’s accent. + </p> + <p> + “Ein man vat is ver’ much took in,” replied he lamentably. + </p> + <p> + “Is a man took in ven he finds a pretty voman?” asked she, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to sent you to-morrow some chewels as a soufenir of de Baron + von Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know him!” said she, laughing like a crazy creature. “But the + chewels will be welcome, my fat burglar friend.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall know him. Goot night, motame. You are a tidbit for ein king; + but I am only a poor banker more dan sixty year olt, and you hafe made me + feel vat power the voman I lofe hafe ofer me since your difine beauty hafe + not make me forget her.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell, dat is ver’ pretty vat you say,” replied the Englishwoman. + </p> + <p> + “It is not so pretty vat she is dat I say it to.” + </p> + <p> + “You spoke of thirty thousand francs—to whom did you give them?” + </p> + <p> + “To dat hussy, your maid——” + </p> + <p> + The Englishwoman called Europe, who was not far off. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” shrieked Europe, “a man in madame’s room, and he is not monsieur—how + shocking!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he give you thirty thousand francs to let him in?” + </p> + <p> + “No, madame, for we are not worth it, the pair of us.” + </p> + <p> + And Europe set to screaming “Thief” so determinedly, that the banker made + for the door in a fright, and Europe, tripping him up, rolled him down the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Old wretch!” cried she, “you would tell tales to my mistress! Thief! + thief! stop thief!” + </p> + <p> + The enamored Baron, in despair, succeeded in getting unhurt to his + carriage, which he had left on the boulevard; but he was now at his wits’ + end as to whom to apply to. + </p> + <p> + “And pray, madame, did you think to get my earnings out of me?” said + Europe, coming back like a fury to the lady’s room. + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing of French customs,” said the Englishwoman. + </p> + <p> + “But one word from me to-morrow to monsieur, and you, madame, would find + yourself in the streets,” retorted Europe insolently. + </p> + <p> + “Dat dam’ maid!” said the Baron to Georges, who naturally asked his master + if all had gone well, “hafe do me out of dirty tousant franc—but it + vas my own fault, my own great fault——” + </p> + <p> + “And so monsieur’s dress was all wasted. The deuce is in it, I should + advise you, Monsieur le Baron, not to have taken your tonic for nothing——” + </p> + <p> + “Georches, I shall be dying of despair. I hafe cold—I hafe ice on + mein heart—no more of Esther, my good friend.” + </p> + <p> + Georges was always the Baron’s friend when matters were serious. + </p> + <p> + Two days after this scene, which Europe related far more amusingly than it + can be written, because she told it with much mimicry, Carlos and Lucien + were breakfasting tete-a-tete. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy, neither the police nor anybody else must be allowed to poke + a nose into our concerns,” said Herrera in a low voice, as he lighted his + cigar from Lucien’s. “It would not agree with us. I have hit on a plan, + daring but effectual, to keep our Baron and his agents quiet. You must go + to see Madame de Serizy, and make yourself very agreeable to her. Tell + her, in the course of conversation, that to oblige Rastignac, who has long + been sick of Madame de Nucingen, you have consented to play fence for him + to conceal a mistress. Monsieur de Nucingen, desperately in love with this + woman Rastignac keeps hidden—that will make her laugh—has + taken it into his head to set the police to keep an eye on you—on + you, who are innocent of all his tricks, and whose interest with the + Grandlieus may be seriously compromised. Then you must beg the Countess to + secure her husband’s support, for he is a Minister of State, to carry you + to the Prefecture of Police. + </p> + <p> + “When you have got there, face to face with the Prefet, make your + complaint, but as a man of political consequence, who will sooner or later + be one of the motor powers of the huge machine of government. You will + speak of the police as a statesman should, admiring everything, the Prefet + included. The very best machines make oil-stains or splutter. Do not be + angry till the right moment. You have no sort of grudge against Monsieur + le Prefet, but persuade him to keep a sharp lookout on his people, and + pity him for having to blow them up. The quieter and more gentlemanly you + are, the more terrible will the Prefet be to his men. Then we shall be + left in peace, and we may send for Esther back, for she must be belling + like the does in the forest.” + </p> + <p> + The Prefet at that time was a retired magistrate. Retired magistrates make + far too young Prefets. Partisans of the right, riding the high horse on + points of law, they are not light-handed in arbitary action such as + critical circumstances often require; cases in which the Prefet should be + as prompt as a fireman called to a conflagration. So, face to face with + the Vice-President of the Council of State, the Prefet confessed to more + faults than the police really has, deplored its abuses, and presently was + able to recollect the visit paid to him by the Baron de Nucingen and his + inquiries as to Peyrade. The Prefet, while promising to check the rash + zeal of his agents, thanked Lucien for having come straight to him, + promised secrecy, and affected to understand the intrigue. + </p> + <p> + A few fine speeches about personal liberty and the sacredness of home life + were bandied between the Prefet and the Minister; Monsieur de Serizy + observing in conclusion that though the high interests of the kingdom + sometimes necessitated illegal action in secret, crime began when these + State measures were applied to private cases. + </p> + <p> + Next day, just as Peyrade was going to his beloved Cafe David, where he + enjoyed watching the bourgeois eat, as an artist watches flowers open, a + gendarme in private clothes spoke to him in the street. + </p> + <p> + “I was going to fetch you,” said he in his ear. “I have orders to take you + to the Prefecture.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade called a hackney cab, and got in without saying a single word, + followed by the gendarme. + </p> + <p> + The Prefet treated Peyrade as though he were the lowest warder on the + hulks, walking to and fro in a side path of the garden of the Prefecture, + which at that time was on the Quai des Orfevres. + </p> + <p> + “It is not without good reason, monsieur, that since 1830 you have been + kept out of office. Do not you know to what risk you expose us, not to + mention yourself?” + </p> + <p> + The lecture ended in a thunderstroke. The Prefet sternly informed poor + Peyrade that not only would his yearly allowance be cut off, but that he + himself would be narrowly watched. The old man took the shock with an air + of perfect calm. Nothing can be more rigidly expressionless than a man + struck by lightning. Peyrade had lost all his stake in the game. He had + counted on getting an appointment, and he found himself bereft of + everything but the alms bestowed by his friend Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “I have been the Prefet of Police myself; I think you perfectly right,” + said the old man quietly to the functionary who stood before him in his + judicial majesty, and who answered with a significant shrug. + </p> + <p> + “But allow me, without any attempt to justify myself, to point out that + you do not know me at all,” Peyrade went on, with a keen glance at the + Prefet. “Your language is either too severe to a man who has been the head + of the police in Holland, or not severe enough for a mere spy. But, + Monsieur le Prefet,” Peyrade added after a pause, while the other kept + silence, “bear in mind what I now have the honor to telling you: I have no + intention of interfering with your police nor of attempting to justify + myself, but you will presently discover that there is some one in this + business who is being deceived; at this moment it is your humble servant; + by and by you will say, ‘It was I.’” + </p> + <p> + And he bowed to the chief, who sat passive to conceal his amazement. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade returned home, his legs and arms feeling broken, and full of cold + fury with the Baron. Nobody but that burly banker could have betrayed a + secret contained in the minds of Contenson, Peyrade, and Corentin. The old + man accused the banker of wishing to avoid paying now that he had gained + his end. A single interview had been enough to enable him to read the + astuteness of this most astute of bankers. + </p> + <p> + “He tries to compound with every one, even with us; but I will be + revenged,” thought the old fellow. “I have never asked a favor of + Corentin; I will ask him now to help me to be revenged on that imbecile + money-box. Curse the Baron!—Well, you will know the stuff I am made + of one fine morning when you find your daughter disgraced!—But does + he love his daughter, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + By the evening of the day when this catastrophe had upset the old man’s + hopes he had aged by ten years. As he talked to his friend Corentin, he + mingled his lamentations with tears wrung from him by the thought of the + melancholy prospects he must bequeath to his daughter, his idol, his + treasure, his peace-offering to God. + </p> + <p> + “We will follow the matter up,” said Corentin. “First of all, we must be + sure that it was the Baron who peached. Were we wise in enlisting + Gondreville’s support? That old rascal owes us too much not to be anxious + to swamp us; indeed, I am keeping an eye on his son-in-law Keller, a + simpleton in politics, and quite capable of meddling in some conspiracy to + overthrow the elder Branch to the advantage of the younger.—I shall + know to-morrow what is going on at Nucingen’s, whether he has seen his + beloved, and to whom we owe this sharp pull up.—Do not be out of + heart. In the first place, the Prefet will not hold his appointment much + longer; the times are big with revolution, and revolutions make good + fishing for us.” + </p> + <p> + A peculiar whistle was just then heard in the street. + </p> + <p> + “That is Contenson,” said Peyrade, who put a light in the window, “and he + has something to say that concerns me.” + </p> + <p> + A minute later the faithful Contenson appeared in the presence of the two + gnomes of the police, whom he revered as though they were two genii. + </p> + <p> + “What is up?” asked Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “A new thing! I was coming out of 113, where I lost everything, when whom + do I spy under the gallery? Georges! The man has been dismissed by the + Baron, who suspects him of treachery.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the effect of a smile I gave him,” said Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! when I think of all the mischief I have known caused by smiles!” + said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “To say nothing of that caused by a whip-lash,” said Peyrade, referring to + the Simeuse case. (In <i>Une Tenebreuse affaire</i>.) “But come, + Contenson, what is going on?” + </p> + <p> + “This is what is going on,” said Contenson. “I made Georges blab by + getting him to treat me to an endless series of liqueurs of every color—I + left him tipsy; I must be as full as a still myself!—Our Baron has + been to the Rue Taitbout, crammed with Pastilles du Serail. There he found + the fair one you know of; but—a good joke! The English beauty is not + his fair unknown!—And he has spent thirty thousand francs to bribe + the lady’s-maid, a piece of folly! + </p> + <p> + “That creature thinks itself a great man because it does mean things with + great capital. Reverse the proposition, and you have the problem of which + a man of genius is the solution.—The Baron came home in a pitiable + condition. Next day Georges, to get his finger in the pie, said to his + master: + </p> + <p> + “‘Why, Monsieur le Baron, do you employ such blackguards? If you would + only trust to me, I would find the unknown lady, for your description of + her is enough. I shall turn Paris upside down.’—‘Go ahead,’ says the + Baron; ‘I shall reward you handsomely!’—Georges told me the whole + story with the most absurd details. But—man is born to be rained + upon! + </p> + <p> + “Next day the Baron received an anonymous letter something to this effect: + ‘Monsieur de Nucingen is dying of love for an unknown lady; he has already + spent a great deal utterly in vain; if he will repair at midnight to the + end of the Neuilly Bridge, and get into the carriage behind which the + chasseur he saw at Vincennes will be standing, allowing himself to be + blindfolded, he will see the woman he loves. As his wealth may lead him to + suspect the intentions of persons who proceed in such a fashion, he may + bring, as an escort, his faithful Georges. And there will be nobody in the + carriage.’—Off the Baron goes, taking Georges with him, but telling + him nothing. They both submit to have their eyes bound up and their heads + wrapped in veils; the Baron recognizes the man-servant. + </p> + <p> + “Two hours later, the carriage, going at the pace of Louis XVIII.—God + rest his soul! He knew what was meant by the police, he did!—pulled + up in the middle of a wood. The Baron had the handkerchief off, and saw, + in a carriage standing still, his adored fair—when, whiff! she + vanished. And the carriage, at the same lively pace, brought him back to + the Neuilly Bridge, where he found his own. + </p> + <p> + “Some one had slipped into Georges’ hand a note to this effect: ‘How many + banknotes will the Baron part with to be put into communication with his + unknown fair? Georges handed this to his master; and the Baron, never + doubting that Georges was in collusion with me or with you, Monsieur + Peyrade, to drive a hard bargain, turned him out of the house. What a fool + that banker is! He ought not to have sent away Georges before he had known + the unknown!” + </p> + <p> + “Then Georges saw the woman?” said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Peyrade, “and what is she like?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Contenson, “he said but one word—‘A sun of loveliness.’” + </p> + <p> + “We are being tricked by some rascals who beat us at the game,” said + Peyrade. “Those villains mean to sell their woman very dear to the Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “Ja, mein Herr,” said Contenson. “And so, when I heard you got slapped in + the face at the Prefecture, I made Georges blab.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like very much to know who it is that has stolen a march on me,” + said Peyrade. “We would measure our spurs!” + </p> + <p> + “We must play eavesdropper,” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “He is right,” said Peyrade. “We must get into chinks to listen, and wait——” + </p> + <p> + “We will study that side of the subject,” cried Corentin. “For the + present, I am out of work. You, Peyrade, be a very good boy. We must + always obey Monsieur le Prefet!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Nucingen wants bleeding,” said Contenson; “he has too many + banknotes in his veins.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was Lydie’s marriage-portion I looked for there!” said Peyrade, in + a whisper to Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Now, come along, Contenson, let us be off, and leave our daddy to by-bye, + by-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Contenson to Corentin on the doorstep, “what a queer + piece of brokerage our good friend was planning! Heh!—What, marry a + daughter with the price of——Ah, ha! It would make a pretty + little play, and very moral too, entitled ‘A Girl’s Dower.’” + </p> + <p> + “You are highly organized animals, indeed,” replied Corentin. “What ears + you have! Certainly Social Nature arms all her species with the qualities + needed for the duties she expects of them! Society is second nature.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a highly philosophical view to take,” cried Contenson. “A + professor would work it up into a system.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us find out all we can,” replied Corentin with a smile, as he made + his way down the street with the spy, “as to what goes on at Monsieur de + Nucingen’s with regard to this girl—the main facts; never mind the + details——” + </p> + <p> + “Just watch to see if his chimneys are smoking!” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “Such a man as the Baron de Nucingen cannot be happy incognito,” replied + Corentin. “And besides, we for whom men are but cards, ought never to be + tricked by them.” + </p> + <p> + “By gad! it would be the condemned jail-bird amusing himself by cutting + the executioner’s throat.” + </p> + <p> + “You always have something droll to say,” replied Corentin, with a dim + smile, that faintly wrinkled his set white face. + </p> + <p> + This business was exceedingly important in itself, apart from its + consequences. If it were not the Baron who had betrayed Peyrade, who could + have had any interest in seeing the Prefet of Police? From Corentin’s + point of view it seemed suspicious. Were there any traitors among his men? + And as he went to bed, he wondered what Peyrade, too, was considering. + </p> + <p> + “Who can have gone to complain to the Prefet? Whom does the woman belong + to?” + </p> + <p> + And thus, without knowing each other, Jacques Collin, Peyrade, and + Corentin were converging to a common point; while the unhappy Esther, + Nucingen, and Lucien were inevitably entangled in the struggle which had + already begun, and of which the point of pride, peculiar to police agents, + was making a war to the death. + </p> + <p> + Thanks to Europe’s cleverness, the more pressing half of the sixty + thousand francs of debt owed by Esther and Lucien was paid off. The + creditors did not even lose confidence. Lucien and his evil genius could + breathe for a moment. Like some pool, they could start again along the + edge of the precipice where the strong man was guiding the weak man to the + gibbet or to fortune. + </p> + <p> + “We are staking now,” said Carlos to his puppet, “to win or lose all. But, + happily, the cards are beveled, and the punters young.” + </p> + <p> + For some time Lucien, by his terrible Mentor’s orders, had been very + attentive to Madame de Serizy. It was, in fact, indispensable that Lucien + should not be suspected of having kept a woman for his mistress. And in + the pleasure of being loved, and the excitement of fashionable life, he + found a spurious power of forgetting. He obeyed Mademoiselle Clotilde de + Grandlieu by never seeing her excepting in the Bois or the Champs-Elysees. + </p> + <p> + On the day after Esther was shut up in the park-keeper’s house, the being + who was to her so enigmatic and terrible, who weighed upon her soul, came + to desire her to sign three pieces of stamped paper, made terrible by + these fateful words: on the first, accepted payable for sixty thousand + francs; on the second, accepted payable for a hundred and twenty thousand + francs; on the third, accepted payable for a hundred and twenty thousand + francs—three hundred thousand francs in all. By writing <i>Bon pour</i>, + you simply promise to pay. The word <i>accepted</i> constitutes a bill of + exchange, and makes you liable to imprisonment. The word entails, on the + person who is so imprudent as to sign, the risk of five years’ + imprisonment—a punishment which the police magistrate hardly ever + inflicts, and which is reserved at the assizes for confirmed rogues. The + law of imprisonment for debt is a relic of the days of barbarism, which + combines with its stupidity the rare merit of being useless, inasmuch as + it never catches swindlers. + </p> + <p> + “The point,” said the Spaniard to Esther, “is to get Lucien out of his + difficulties. We have debts to the tune of sixty thousand francs, and with + these three hundred thousand francs we may perhaps pull through.” + </p> + <p> + Having antedated the bills by six months, Carlos had had them drawn on + Esther by a man whom the county court had “misunderstood,” and whose + adventures, in spite of the excitement they had caused, were soon + forgotten, hidden, lost, in the uproar of the great symphony of July 1830. + </p> + <p> + This young fellow, a most audacious adventurer, the son of a lawyer’s + clerk of Boulogne, near Paris, was named Georges Marie Destourny. His + father, obliged by adverse circumstances to sell his connection, died in + 1824, leaving his son without the means of living, after giving him a + brilliant education, the folly of the lower middle class. At twenty-three + the clever young law-student had denied his paternity by printing on his + cards + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Georges d’Estourny. +</pre> + <p> + This card gave him an odor of aristocracy; and now, as a man of fashion, + he was so impudent as to set up a tilbury and a groom and haunt the clubs. + One line will account for this: he gambled on the Bourse with the money + intrusted to him by the kept women of his acquaintance. Finally he fell + into the hands of the police, and was charged with playing at cards with + too much luck. + </p> + <p> + He had accomplices, youths whom he had corrupted, his compulsory + satellites, accessory to his fashion and his credit. Compelled to fly, he + forgot to pay his differences on the Bourse. All Paris—the Paris of + the Stock Exchange and Clubs—was still shaken by this double stroke + of swindling. + </p> + <p> + In the days of his splendor Georges d’Estourny, a handsome youth, and + above all, a jolly fellow, as generous as a brigand chief, had for a few + months “protected” La Torpille. The false Abbe based his calculations on + Esther’s former intimacy with this famous scoundrel, an incident peculiar + to women of her class. + </p> + <p> + Georges d’Estourny, whose ambition grew bolder with success, had taken + under his patronage a man who had come from the depths of the country to + carry on a business in Paris, and whom the Liberal party were anxious to + indemnify for certain sentences endured with much courage in the struggle + of the press with Charles X.‘s government, the persecution being relaxed, + however, during the Martignac administration. The Sieur Cerizet had then + been pardoned, and he was henceforth known as the Brave Cerizet. + </p> + <p> + Cerizet then, being patronized for form’s sake by the bigwigs of the Left, + founded a house which combined the business of a general agency with that + of a bank and a commission agency. It was one of those concerns which, in + business, remind one of the servants who advertise in the papers as being + able and willing to do everything. Cerizet was very glad to ally himself + with Georges d’Estourny, who gave him hints. + </p> + <p> + Esther, in virtue of the anecdote about Nonon, might be regarded as the + faithful guardian of part of Georges d’Estourny’s fortune. An endorsement + in the name of Georges d’Estourny made Carlos Herrera master of the money + he had created. This forgery was perfectly safe so long as Mademoiselle + Esther, or some one for her, could, or was bound to pay. + </p> + <p> + After making inquiries as to the house of Cerizet, Carlos perceived that + he had to do with one of those humble men who are bent on making a + fortune, but—lawfully. Cerizet, with whom d’Estourny had really + deposited his moneys, had in hand a considerable sum with which he was + speculating for a rise on the Bourse, a state of affairs which allowed him + to style himself a banker. Such things are done in Paris; a man may be + despised,—but money, never. + </p> + <p> + Carlos went off to Cerizet intending to work him after his manner; for, as + it happened, he was master of all this worthy’s secrets—a meet + partner for d’Estourny. + </p> + <p> + Cerizet the Brave lived in an entresol in the Rue du Gros-Chenet, and + Carlos, who had himself mysteriously announced as coming from Georges + d’Estourny, found the self-styled banker quite pale at the name. The Abbe + saw in this humble private room a little man with thin, light hair; and + recognized him at once, from Lucien’s description, as the Judas who had + ruined David Sechard. + </p> + <p> + “Can we talk here without risk of being overheard?” said the Spaniard, now + metamorphosed into a red-haired Englishman with blue spectacles, as clean + and prim as a Puritan going to meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Why, monsieur?” said Cerizet. “Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. William Barker, a creditor of M. d’Estourny’s; and I can prove to you + the necessity for keeping your doors closed if you wish it. We know, + monsieur, all about your connections with the Petit-Clauds, the Cointets, + and the Sechards of Angouleme——” + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words, Cerizet rushed to the door and shut it, flew to + another leading into a bedroom and bolted it; then he said to the + stranger: + </p> + <p> + “Speak lower, monsieur,” and he studied the sham Englishman as he asked + him, “What do you want with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” said William Barker, “every one for himself in this world. You + had the money of that rascal d’Estourny.—Be quite easy, I have not + come to ask for it; but that scoundrel, who deserves hanging, between you + and me, gave me these bills, saying that there might be some chance of + recovering the money; and as I do not choose to prosecute in my own name, + he told me you would not refuse to back them.” + </p> + <p> + Cerizet looked at the bills. + </p> + <p> + “But he is no longer at Frankfort,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” replied Barker, “but he may still have been there at the date + of those bills——” + </p> + <p> + “I will not take the responsibility,” said Cerizet. + </p> + <p> + “I do not ask such a sacrifice of you,” replied Barker; “you may be + instructed to receive them. Endorse them, and I will undertake to recover + the money.” + </p> + <p> + “I am surprised that d’Estourny should show so little confidence in me,” + said Cerizet. + </p> + <p> + “In his position,” replied Barker, “you can hardly blame him for having + put his eggs in different baskets.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you believe——” the little broker began, as he handed back + to the Englishman the bills of exchange formally accepted. + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you will take good care of his money,” said Barker. “I am + sure of it! It is already on the green table of the Bourse.” + </p> + <p> + “My fortune depends——” + </p> + <p> + “On your appearing to lose it,” said Barker. + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” cried Cerizet. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my dear Monsieur Cerizet,” said Barker, coolly interrupting + him, “you will do me a service by facilitating this payment. Be so good as + to write me a letter in which you tell me that you are sending me these + bills receipted on d’Estourny’s account, and that the collecting officer + is to regard the holder of the letter as the possessor of the three + bills.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you give me your name?” + </p> + <p> + “No names,” replied the English capitalist. “Put ‘The bearer of this + letter and these bills.’—You will be handsomely repaid for obliging + me.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” said Cerizet. + </p> + <p> + “In one word—You mean to stay in France, do not you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Georges d’Estourny will never re-enter the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray why?” + </p> + <p> + “There are five persons at least to my knowledge who would murder him, and + he knows it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then no wonder he is asking me for money enough to start him trading to + the Indies?” cried Cerizet. “And unfortunately he has compelled me to risk + everything in State speculation. We already owe heavy differences to the + house of du Tillet. I live from hand to mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Withdraw your stakes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if only I had known this sooner!” exclaimed Cerizet. “I have missed + my chance!” + </p> + <p> + “One last word,” said Barker. “Keep your own counsel, you are capable of + that; but you must be faithful too, which is perhaps less certain. We + shall meet again, and I will help you to make a fortune.” + </p> + <p> + Having tossed this sordid soul a crumb of hope that would secure silence + for some time to come, Carlos, still disguised as Barker, betook himself + to a bailiff whom he could depend on, and instructed him to get the bills + brought home to Esther. + </p> + <p> + “They will be paid all right,” said he to the officer. “It is an affair of + honor; only we want to do the thing regularly.” + </p> + <p> + Barker got a solicitor to represent Esther in court, so that judgment + might be given in presence of both parties. The collecting officer, who + was begged to act with civility, took with him all the warrants for + procedure, and came in person to seize the furniture in the Rue Taitbout, + where he was received by Europe. Her personal liability once proved, + Esther was ostensibly liable, beyond dispute, for three hundred and more + thousand francs of debts. + </p> + <p> + In all this Carlos displayed no great powers of invention. The farce of + false debts is often played in Paris. There are many sub-Gobsecks and + sub-Gigonnets who, for a percentage, will lend themselves to this + subterfuge, and regard the infamous trick as a jest. In France everything—even + a crime—is done with a laugh. By this means refractory parents are + made to pay, or rich mistresses who might drive a hard bargain, but who, + face to face with flagrant necessity, or some impending dishonor, pay up, + if with a bad grace. Maxime de Trailles had often used such means, + borrowed from the comedies of the old stage. Carlos Herrera, who wanted to + save the honor of his gown, as well as Lucien’s, had worked the spell by a + forgery not dangerous for him, but now so frequently practised that + Justice is beginning to object. There is, it is said, a Bourse for + falsified bills near the Palais Royal, where you may get a forged + signature for three francs. + </p> + <p> + Before entering on the question of the hundred thousand crowns that were + to keep the door of the bedroom, Carlos determined first to extract a + hundred thousand more from M. de Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + And this was the way: By his orders Asie got herself up for the Baron’s + benefit as an old woman fully informed as to the unknown beauty’s affairs. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto, novelists of manners have placed on the stage a great many + usurers; but the female money-lender has been overlooked, the Madame la + Ressource of the present day—a very singular figure, euphemistically + spoken of as a “ward-robe purchaser”; a part that the ferocious Asie could + play, for she had two old-clothes shops managed by women she could trust—one + in the Temple, and the other in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Marc. + </p> + <p> + “You must get into the skin of Madame de Saint-Esteve,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Herrera wished to see Asie dressed. + </p> + <p> + The go-between arrived in a dress of flowered damask, made of the curtains + of some dismantled boudoir, and one of those shawls of Indian design—out + of date, worn, and valueless, which end their career on the backs of these + women. She had a collar of magnificent lace, though torn, and a terrible + bonnet; but her shoes were of fine kid, in which the flesh of her fat feet + made a roll of black-lace stocking. + </p> + <p> + “And my waist buckle!” she exclaimed, displaying a piece of + suspicious-looking finery, prominent on her cook’s stomach, “There’s style + for you! and my front!—Oh, Ma’me Nourrisson has turned me out quite + spiff!” + </p> + <p> + “Be as sweet as honey at first,” said Carlos; “be almost timid, as + suspicious as a cat; and, above all, make the Baron ashamed of having + employed the police, without betraying that you quake before the + constable. Finally, make your customer understand in more or less plain + terms that you defy all the police in the world to discover his jewel. + Take care to destroy your traces. + </p> + <p> + “When the Baron gives you a right to tap him on the stomach, and call him + a pot-bellied old rip, you may be as insolent as you please, and make him + trot like a footman.” + </p> + <p> + Nucingen—threatened by Asie with never seeing her again if he + attempted the smallest espionage—met the woman on his way to the + Bourse, in secret, in a wretched entresol in the Rue Nueve-Saint-Marc. How + often, and with what rapture, have amorous millionaires trodden these + squalid paths! the pavements of Paris know. Madame de Saint-Esteve, by + tossing the Baron from hope to despair by turns, brought him to the point + when he insisted on being informed of all that related to the unknown + beauty at ANY COST. Meanwhile, the law was put in force, and with such + effect that the bailiffs, finding no resistance from Esther, put in an + execution on her effects without losing a day. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, guided by his adviser, paid the recluse at Saint-Germain five or + six visits. The merciless author of all these machinations thought this + necessary to save Esther from pining to death, for her beauty was now + their capital. When the time came for them to quit the park-keeper’s + lodge, he took Lucien and the poor girl to a place on the road whence they + could see Paris, where no one could overhear them. They all three sat down + in the rising sun, on the trunk of a felled poplar, looking over one of + the finest prospects in the world, embracing the course of the Seine, with + Montmartre, Paris, and Saint-Denis. + </p> + <p> + “My children,” said Carlos, “your dream is over.—You, little one, + will never see Lucien again; or if you should, you must have known him + only for a few days, five years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Death has come upon me then,” said she, without shedding a tear. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have been ill these five years,” said Herrera. “Imagine + yourself to be consumptive, and die without boring us with your + lamentations. But you will see, you can still live, and very comfortably + too.—Leave us, Lucien—go and gather sonnets!” said he, + pointing to a field a little way off. + </p> + <p> + Lucien cast a look of humble entreaty at Esther, one of the looks peculiar + to such men—weak and greedy, with tender hearts and cowardly + spirits. Esther answered with a bow of her head, which said: “I will hear + the executioner, that I may know how to lay my head under the axe, and I + shall have courage enough to die decently.” + </p> + <p> + The gesture was so gracious, but so full of dreadful meaning, that the + poet wept; Esther flew to him, clasped him in her arms, drank away the + tears, and said, “Be quite easy!” one of those speeches that are spoken + with the manner, the look, the tones of delirium. + </p> + <p> + Carlos then explained to her quite clearly, without attenuation, often + with horrible plainness of speech, the critical position in which Lucien + found himself, his connection with the Hotel Grandlieu, his splendid + prospects if he should succeed; and finally, how necessary it was that + Esther should sacrifice herself to secure him this triumphant future. + </p> + <p> + “What must I do?” cried she, with the eagerness of a fanatic. + </p> + <p> + “Obey me blindly,” said Carlos. “And what have you to complain of? It + rests with you to achieve a happy lot. You may be what Tullia is, what + your old friends Florine, Mariette, and la Val-Noble are—the + mistress of a rich man whom you need not love. When once our business is + settled, your lover is rich enough to make you happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Happy!” said she, raising her eyes to heaven. + </p> + <p> + “You have lived in Paradise for four years,” said he. “Can you not live on + such memories?” + </p> + <p> + “I will obey you,” said she, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. + “For the rest, do not worry yourself. You have said it; my love is a + mortal disease.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not enough,” said Carlos; “you must preserve your looks. At a + little past two-and-twenty you are in the prime of your beauty, thanks to + your past happiness. And, above all, be the ‘Torpille’ again. Be roguish, + extravagant, cunning, merciless to the millionaire I put in your power. + Listen to me! That man is a robber on a grand scale; he has been ruthless + to many persons; he has grown fat on the fortunes of the widow and the + orphan; you will avenge them! + </p> + <p> + “Asie is coming to fetch you in a hackney coach, and you will be in Paris + this evening. If you allow any one to suspect your connection with Lucien, + you may as well blow his brains out at once. You will be asked where you + have been for so long. You must say that you have been traveling with a + desperately jealous Englishman.—You used to have wit enough to + humbug people. Find such wit again now.” + </p> + <p> + Have you ever seen a gorgeous kite, the giant butterfly of childhood, + twinkling with gilding, and soaring to the sky? The children forget the + string that holds it, some passer-by cuts it, the gaudy toy turns head + over heels, as the boys say, and falls with terrific rapidity. Such was + Esther as she listened to Carlos. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + WHAT LOVE COSTS AN OLD MAN +</pre> + <p> + For a whole week Nucingen went almost every day to the shop in the Rue + Nueve-Saint-Marc to bargain for the woman he was in love with. Here, + sometimes under the name of Saint-Esteve, sometimes under that of her + tool, Madame Nourrisson, Asie sat enthroned among beautiful clothes in + that hideous condition when they have ceased to be dresses and are not yet + rags. + </p> + <p> + The setting was in harmony with the appearance assumed by the woman, for + these shops are among the most hideous characteristics of Paris. You find + there the garments tossed aside by the skinny hand of Death; you hear, as + it were, the gasping of consumption under a shawl, or you detect the + agonies of beggery under a gown spangled with gold. The horrible struggle + between luxury and starvation is written on filmy laces; you may picture + the countenance of a queen under a plumed turban placed in an attitude + that recalls and almost reproduces the absent features. It is all hideous + amid prettiness! Juvenal’s lash, in the hands of the appraiser, scatters + the shabby muffs, the ragged furs of courtesans at bay. + </p> + <p> + There is a dunghill of flowers, among which here and there we find a + bright rose plucked but yesterday and worn for a day; and on this an old + hag is always to be seen crouching—first cousin to Usury, the + skinflint bargainer, bald and toothless, and ever ready to sell the + contents, so well is she used to sell the covering—the gown without + the woman, or the woman without the gown! + </p> + <p> + Here Asie was in her element, like the warder among convicts, like a + vulture red-beaked amid corpses; more terrible than the savage horrors + that made the passer-by shudder in astonishment sometimes, at seeing one + of their youngest and sweetest reminiscences hung up in a dirty shop + window, behind which a Saint-Esteve sits and grins. + </p> + <p> + From vexation to vexation, a thousand francs at a time, the banker had + gone so far as to offer sixty thousand francs to Madame de Saint-Esteve, + who still refused to help him, with a grimace that would have outdone any + monkey. After a disturbed night, after confessing to himself that Esther + completely upset his ideas, after realizing some unexpected turns of + fortune on the Bourse, he came to her one day, intending to give the + hundred thousand francs on which Asie insisted, but he was determined to + have plenty of information for the money. + </p> + <p> + “Well, have you made up your mind, old higgler?” said Asie, clapping him + on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The most dishonoring familiarity is the first tax these women levy on the + frantic passions or griefs that are confided to them; they never rise to + the level of their clients; they make them seem squat beside them on their + mudheap. Asie, it will be seen, obeyed her master admirably. + </p> + <p> + “Need must!” said Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “And you have the best of the bargain,” said Asie. “Women have been sold + much dearer than this one to you—relatively speaking. There are + women and women! De Marsay paid sixty thousand francs for Coralie, who is + dead now. The woman you want cost a hundred thousand francs when new; but + to you, you old goat, it is a matter of agreement.” + </p> + <p> + “But vere is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you shall see. I am like you—a gift for a gift! Oh, my good + man, your adored one has been extravagant. These girls know no moderation. + Your princess is at this moment what we call a fly by night——” + </p> + <p> + “A fly——?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, don’t play the simpleton.—Louchard is at her heels, and + I—I—have lent her fifty thousand francs——” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-fife say!” cried the banker. + </p> + <p> + “Well, of course, twenty-five for fifty, that is only natural,” replied + Asie. “To do the woman justice, she is honesty itself. She had nothing + left but herself, and says she to me: ‘My good Madame Saint-Esteve, the + bailiffs are after me; no one can help me but you. Give me twenty thousand + francs. I will pledge my heart to you.’ Oh, she has a sweet heart; no one + but me knows where it lies. Any folly on my part, and I should lose my + twenty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “Formerly she lived in the Rue Taitbout. Before leaving—(her + furniture was seized for costs—those rascally bailiffs—You + know them, you who are one of the great men on the Bourse)—well, + before leaving, she is no fool, she let her rooms for two months to an + Englishwoman, a splendid creature who had a little thingummy—Rubempre—for + a lover, and he was so jealous that he only let her go out at night. But + as the furniture is to be seized, the Englishwoman has cut her stick, all + the more because she cost too much for a little whipper-snapper like + Lucien.” + </p> + <p> + “You cry up de goots,” said Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” said Asie. “I lend to the beauties; and it pays, for you get + two commissions for one job.” + </p> + <p> + Asie was amusing herself by caricaturing the manners of a class of women + who are even greedier but more wheedling and mealy-mouthed than the Malay + woman, and who put a gloss of the best motives on the trade they ply. Asie + affected to have lost all her illusions, five lovers, and some children, + and to have submitted to be robbed by everybody in spite of her + experience. From time to time she exhibited some pawn-tickets, to prove + how much bad luck there was in her line of business. She represented + herself as pinched and in debt, and to crown all, she was so undisguisedly + hideous that the Baron at last believed her to be all she said she was. + </p> + <p> + “Vell den, I shall pay the hundert tousant, and vere shall I see her?” + said he, with the air of a man who has made up his mind to any sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “My fat friend, you shall come this evening—in your carriage, of + course—opposite the Gymnase. It is on the way,” said Asie. “Stop at + the corner of the Rue Saint-Barbe. I will be on the lookout, and we will + go and find my mortgaged beauty, with the black hair.—Oh, she has + splendid hair, has my mortgage. If she pulls out her comb, Esther is + covered as if it were a pall. But though you are knowing in arithmetic, + you strike me as a muff in other matters; and I advise you to hide the + girl safely, for if she is found she will be clapped into Sainte-Pelagie + the very next day.—And they are looking for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall it not be possible to get holt of de bills?” said the incorrigible + bill-broker. + </p> + <p> + “The bailiffs have got them—but it is impossible. The girl has had a + passion, and has spent some money left in her hands, which she is now + called upon to pay. By the poker!—a queer thing is a heart of two + and-twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “Ver’ goot, ver’ goot, I shall arrange all dat,” said Nucingen, assuming a + cunning look. “It is qvite settled dat I shall protect her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, old noodle, it is your business to make her fall in love with you, + and you certainly have ample means to buy sham love as good as the real + article. I will place your princess in your keeping; she is bound to stick + to you, and after that I don’t care.—But she is accustomed to luxury + and the greatest consideration. I tell you, my boy, she is quite the lady.—If + not, should I have given her twenty thousand francs?” + </p> + <p> + “Ver’ goot, it is a pargain. Till dis efening.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron repeated the bridal toilet he had already once achieved; but + this time, being certain of success, he took a double dose of pillules. + </p> + <p> + At nine o’clock he found the dreadful woman at the appointed spot, and + took her into his carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Vere to?” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” echoed Asie. “Rue de la Perle in the Marais—an address for + the nonce; for your pearl is in the mud, but you will wash her clean.” + </p> + <p> + Having reached the spot, the false Madame de Saint-Esteve said to Nucingen + with a hideous smile: + </p> + <p> + “We must go a short way on foot; I am not such a fool as to have given you + the right address.” + </p> + <p> + “You tink of eferytink!” said the baron. + </p> + <p> + “It is my business,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Asie led Nucingen to the Rue Barbette, where, in furnished lodgings kept + by an upholsterer, he was led up to the fourth floor. + </p> + <p> + On finding Esther in a squalid room, dressed as a work-woman, and employed + on some embroidery, the millionaire turned pale. At the end of a quarter + of an hour, while Asie affected to talk in whispers to Esther, the young + old man could hardly speak. + </p> + <p> + “Montemisselle,” said he at length to the unhappy girl, “vill you be so + goot as to let me be your protector?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I cannot help myself, monsieur,” replied Esther, letting fall two + large tears. + </p> + <p> + “Do not veep. I shall make you de happiest of vomen. Only permit that I + shall lof you—you shall see.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, child, the gentleman is reasonable,” said Asie. “He knows + that he is more than sixty, and he will be very kind to you. You see, my + beauty, I have found you quite a father—I had to say so,” Asie + whispered to the banker, who was not best pleased. “You cannot catch + swallows by firing a pistol at them.—Come here,” she went on, + leading Nucingen into the adjoining room. “You remember our bargain, my + angel?” + </p> + <p> + Nucingen took out his pocketbook and counted out the hundred thousand + francs, which Carlos, hidden in a cupboard, was impatiently waiting for, + and which the cook handed over to him. + </p> + <p> + “Here are the hundred thousand francs our man stakes on Asie. Now we must + make him lay on Europe,” said Carlos to his confidante when they were on + the landing. + </p> + <p> + And he vanished after giving his instruction to the Malay who went back + into the room. She found Esther weeping bitterly. The poor girl, like a + criminal condemned to death, had woven a romance of hope, and the fatal + hour had tolled. + </p> + <p> + “My dear children,” said Asie, “where do you mean to go?—For the + Baron de Nucingen——” + </p> + <p> + Esther looked at the great banker with a start of surprise that was + admirably acted. + </p> + <p> + “Ja, mein kind, I am dat Baron von Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + “The Baron de Nucingen must not, cannot remain in such a room as this,” + Asie went on. “Listen to me; your former maid Eugenie.” + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie, from the Rue Taitbout?” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Just so; the woman placed in possession of the furniture,” replied Asie, + “and who let the apartment to that handsome Englishwoman——” + </p> + <p> + “Hah! I onderstant!” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Madame’s former waiting-maid,” Asie went on, respectfully alluding to + Esther, “will receive you very comfortably this evening; and the + commercial police will never think of looking for her in her old rooms + which she left three months ago——” + </p> + <p> + “Feerst rate, feerst rate!” cried the Baron. “An’ besides, I know dese + commercial police, an’ I know vat sorts shall make dem disappear.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find Eugenie a sharp customer,” said Asie. “I found her for + madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Hah! I know her!” cried the millionaire, laughing. “She haf fleeced me + out of dirty tousant franc.” + </p> + <p> + Esther shuddered with horror in a way that would have led a man of any + feeling to trust her with his fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dat vas mein own fault,” the Baron said. “I vas seeking for you.” + </p> + <p> + And he related the incident that had arisen out of the letting of Esther’s + rooms to the Englishwoman. + </p> + <p> + “There, now, you see, madame, Eugenie never told you all that, the sly + thing!” said Asie.—“Still, madame is used to the hussy,” she added + to the Baron. “Keep her on, all the same.” + </p> + <p> + She drew Nucingen aside and said: + </p> + <p> + “If you give Eugenie five hundred francs a month, which will fill up her + stocking finely, you can know everything that madame does: make her the + lady’s-maid. Eugenie will be all the more devoted to you since she has + already done you.—Nothing attaches a woman to a man more than the + fact that she has once fleeced him. But keep a tight rein on Eugenie; she + will do any earthly thing for money; she is a dreadful creature!” + </p> + <p> + “An’ vat of you?” + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Asie, “I make both ends meet.” + </p> + <p> + Nucingen, the astute financier, had a bandage over his eyes; he allowed + himself to be led like a child. The sight of that spotless and adorable + Esther wiping her eyes and pricking in the stitches of her embroidery as + demurely as an innocent girl, revived in the amorous old man the + sensations he had experienced in the Forest of Vincennes; he would have + given her the key of his safe. He felt so young, his heart was so + overflowing with adoration; he only waited till Asie should be gone to + throw himself at the feet of this Raphael’s Madonna. + </p> + <p> + This sudden blossoming of youth in the heart of a stockbroker, of an old + man, is one of the social phenomena which must be left to physiology to + account for. Crushed under the burden of business, stifled under endless + calculations and the incessant anxieties of million-hunting, young + emotions revive with their sublime illusions, sprout and flower like a + forgotten cause or a forgotten seed, whose effects, whose gorgeous bloom, + are the sport of chance, brought out by a late and sudden gleam of + sunshine. + </p> + <p> + The Baron, a clerk by the time he was twelve years old in the ancient + house of Aldrigger at Strasbourg, had never set foot in the world of + sentiment. So there he stood in front of his idol, hearing in his brain a + thousand modes of speech, while none came to his lips, till at length he + acted on the brutal promptings of desire that betrayed a man of sixty-six. + </p> + <p> + “Vill you come to Rue Taitbout?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Wherever you please, monsieur,” said Esther, rising. + </p> + <p> + “Verever I please!” he echoed in rapture. “You are ein anchel from de sky, + and I lofe you more as if I was a little man, vile I hafe gray hairs——” + </p> + <p> + “You had better say white, for they are too fine a black to be only gray,” + said Asie. + </p> + <p> + “Get out, foul dealer in human flesh! You hafe got your moneys; do not + slobber no more on dis flower of lofe!” cried the banker, indemnifying + himself by this violent abuse for all the insolence he had submitted to. + </p> + <p> + “You old rip! I will pay you out for that speech!” said Asie, threatening + the banker with a gesture worthy of the Halle, at which the Baron merely + shrugged his shoulders. “Between the lip of the pot and that of the + guzzler there is often a viper, and you will find me there!” she went on, + furious at Nucingen’s contempt. + </p> + <p> + Millionaires, whose money is guarded by the Bank of France, whose mansions + are guarded by a squad of footmen, whose person in the streets is safe + behind the rampart of a coach with swift English horses, fear no ill; so + the Baron looked calmly at Asie, as a man who had just given her a hundred + thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + This dignity had its effect. Asie beat a retreat, growling down the stairs + in highly revolutionary language; she spoke of the guillotine! + </p> + <p> + “What have you said to her?” asked the Madonna a la broderie, “for she is + a good soul.” + </p> + <p> + “She hafe solt you, she hafe robbed you——” + </p> + <p> + “When we are beggared,” said she, in a tone to rend the heart of a + diplomate, “who has ever any money or consideration for us?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor leetle ting!” said Nucingen. “Do not stop here ein moment longer.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron offered her his arm; he led her away just as she was, and put + her into his carriage with more respect perhaps than he would have shown + to the handsome Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. + </p> + <p> + “You shall hafe a fine carriage, de prettiest carriage in Paris,” said + Nucingen, as they drove along. “Everyting dat luxury shall sopply shall be + for you. Not any qveen shall be more rich dan vat you shall be. You shall + be respected like ein Cherman Braut. I shall hafe you to be free.—Do + not veep! Listen to me—I lofe you really, truly, mit de purest lofe. + Efery tear of yours breaks my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Can one truly love a woman one has bought?” said the poor girl in the + sweetest tones. + </p> + <p> + “Choseph vas solt by his broders for dat he was so comely. Dat is so in de + Biple. An’ in de Eastern lants men buy deir wifes.” + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the Rue Taitbout, Esther could not return to the scene of + her happiness without some pain. She remained sitting on a couch, + motionless, drying away her tears one by one, and never hearing a word of + the crazy speeches poured out by the banker. He fell at her feet, and she + let him kneel without saying a word to him, allowing him to take her hands + as he would, and never thinking of the sex of the creature who was rubbing + her feet to warm them; for Nucingen found that they were cold. + </p> + <p> + This scene of scalding tears shed on the Baron’s head, and of ice-cold + feet that he tried to warm, lasted from midnight till two in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie,” cried the Baron at last to Europe, “persvade your mis’ess that + she shall go to bet.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” cried Esther, starting to her feet like a scared horse. “Never in + this house!” + </p> + <p> + “Look her, monsieur, I know madame; she is as gentle and kind as a lamb,” + said Europe to the Baron. “Only you must not rub her the wrong way, you + must get at her sideways—she had been so miserable here.—You + see how worn the furniture is.—Let her go her own way. + </p> + <p> + “Furnish some pretty little house for her, very nicely. Perhaps when she + sees everything new about her she will feel a stranger there, and think + you better looking than you are, and be angelically sweet.—Oh! + madame has not her match, and you may boast of having done a very good + stroke of business: a good heart, genteel manners, a fine instep—and + a skin, a complexion! Ah!—— + </p> + <p> + “And witty enough to make a condemned wretch laugh. And madame can feel an + attachment.—And then how she can dress!—Well, if it is costly, + still, as they say, you get your money’s worth.—Here all the gowns + were seized, everything she has is three months old.—But madame is + so kind, you see, that I love her, and she is my mistress!—But in + all justice—such a woman as she is, in the midst of furniture that + has been seized!—And for whom? For a young scamp who has ruined her. + Poor little thing, she is not at all herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Esther, Esther; go to bet, my anchel! If it is me vat frighten you, I + shall stay here on dis sofa——” cried the Baron, fired by the + purest devotion, as he saw that Esther was still weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Esther, taking the “lynx’s” hand, and kissing it with + an impulse of gratitude which brought something very like a tear to his + eye, “I shall be grateful to you——” + </p> + <p> + And she fled into her room and locked the door. + </p> + <p> + “Dere is someting fery strange in all dat,” thought Nucingen, excited by + his pillules. “Vat shall dey say at home?” + </p> + <p> + He got up and looked out of the window. “My carriage still is dere. It + shall soon be daylight.” He walked up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + “Vat Montame de Nucingen should laugh at me ven she should know how I hafe + spent dis night!” + </p> + <p> + He applied his ear to the bedroom door, thinking himself rather too much + of a simpleton. + </p> + <p> + “Esther!” + </p> + <p> + No reply. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott! and she is still veeping!” said he to himself, as he stretched + himself on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + About ten minutes after sunrise, the Baron de Nucingen, who was sleeping + the uneasy slumbers that are snatched by compulsion in an awkward position + on a couch, was aroused with a start by Europe from one of those dreams + that visit us in such moments, and of which the swift complications are a + phenomenon inexplicable by medical physiology. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God help us, madame!” she shrieked. “Madame!—the soldiers—gendarmes—bailiffs! + They have come to take us.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment when Esther opened her door and appeared, hurriedly, wrapped + in her dressing-gown, her bare feet in slippers, her hair in disorder, + lovely enough to bring the angel Raphael to perdition, the drawing-room + door vomited into the room a gutter of human mire that came on, on ten + feet, towards the beautiful girl, who stood like an angel in some Flemish + church picture. One man came foremost. Contenson, the horrible Contenson, + laid his hand on Esther’s dewy shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You are Mademoiselle van——” he began. Europe, by a + back-handed slap on Contenson’s cheek, sent him sprawling to measure his + length on the carpet, and with all the more effect because at the same + time she caught his leg with the sharp kick known to those who practise + the art as a coup de savate. + </p> + <p> + “Hands off!” cried she. “No one shall touch my mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “She has broken my leg!” yelled Contenson, picking himself up; “I will + have damages!” + </p> + <p> + From the group of bumbailiffs, looking like what they were, all standing + with their horrible hats on their yet more horrible heads, with + mahogany-colored faces and bleared eyes, damaged noses, and hideous + mouths, Louchard now stepped forth, more decently dressed than his men, + but keeping his hat on, his expression at once smooth-faced and smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, I arrest you!” said he to Esther. “As for you, my girl,” he + added to Europe, “any resistance will be punished, and perfectly useless.” + </p> + <p> + The noise of muskets, let down with a thud of their stocks on the floor of + the dining-room, showing that the invaders had soldiers to bake them, gave + emphasis to this speech. + </p> + <p> + “And what am I arrested for?” said Esther. + </p> + <p> + “What about our little debts?” said Louchard. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” cried Esther; “give me leave to dress.” + </p> + <p> + “But, unfortunately, mademoiselle, I am obliged to make sure that you have + no way of getting out of your room,” said Louchard. + </p> + <p> + All this passed so quickly that the Baron had not yet had time to + intervene. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and am I still a foul dealer in human flesh, Baron de Nucingen?” + cried the hideous Asie, forcing her way past the sheriff’s officers to the + couch, where she pretended to have just discovered the banker. + </p> + <p> + “Contemptible wretch!” exclaimed Nucingen, drawing himself up in financial + majesty. + </p> + <p> + He placed himself between Esther and Louchard, who took off his hat as + Contenson cried out, “Monsieur le Baron de Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + At a signal from Louchard the bailiffs vanished from the room, + respectfully taking their hats off. Contenson alone was left. + </p> + <p> + “Do you propose to pay, Monsieur le Baron?” asked he, hat in hand. + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay,” said the banker; “but I must know vat dis is all about.” + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred and twelve thousand francs and some centimes, costs paid; + but the charges for the arrest not included.” + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred thousand francs,” cried the Baron; “dat is a fery ‘xpensive + vaking for a man vat has passed the night on a sofa,” he added in Europe’s + ear. + </p> + <p> + “Is that man really the Baron de Nucingen?” asked Europe to Louchard, + giving weight to the doubt by a gesture which Mademoiselle Dupont, the low + comedy servant of the Francais, might have envied. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle,” said Louchard. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be answerable,” said the Baron, piqued in his honor by Europe’s + doubt. “You shall ‘llow me to say ein vort to her.” + </p> + <p> + Esther and her elderly lover retired to the bedroom, Louchard finding it + necessary to apply his ear to the keyhole. + </p> + <p> + “I lofe you more as my life, Esther; but vy gife to your creditors moneys + vich shall be so much better in your pocket? Go into prison. I shall + undertake to buy up dose hundert tousant crowns for ein hundert tousant + francs, an’ so you shall hafe two hundert tousant francs for you——” + </p> + <p> + “That scheme is perfectly useless,” cried Louchard through the door. “The + creditor is not in love with mademoiselle—not he! You understand? + And he means to have more than all, now he knows that you are in love with + her.” + </p> + <p> + “You dam’ sneak!” cried Nucingen, opening the door, and dragging Louchard + into the bedroom; “you know not dat vat you talk about. I shall gife you, + you’self, tventy per cent if you make the job.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible, M. le Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “What, monsieur, you could have the heart to let my mistress go to + prison?” said Europe, intervening. “But take my wages, my savings; take + them, madame; I have forty thousand francs——” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my good girl, I did not really know you!” cried Esther, clasping + Europe in her arms. + </p> + <p> + Europe proceeded to melt into tears. + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay,” said the Baron piteously, as he drew out a pocket-book, + from which he took one of the little printed forms which the Bank of + France issues to bankers, on which they have only to write a sum in + figures and in words to make them available as cheques to bearer. + </p> + <p> + “It is not worth the trouble, Monsieur le Baron,” said Louchard; “I have + instructions not to accept payment in anything but coin of the realm—gold + or silver. As it is you, I will take banknotes.” + </p> + <p> + “Der Teufel!” cried the Baron. “Well, show me your papers.” + </p> + <p> + Contenson handed him three packets covered with blue paper, which the + Baron took, looking at the man, and adding in an undertone: + </p> + <p> + “It should hafe been a better day’s vork for you ven you had gife me + notice.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how should I know you were here, Monsieur le Baron?” replied the + spy, heedless whether Louchard heard him. “You lost my services by + withdrawing your confidence. You are done,” added this philosopher, + shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Qvite true,” said the baron. “Ah, my chilt,” he exclaimed, seeing the + bills of exchange, and turning to Esther, “you are de fictim of a torough + scoundrel, ein highway tief!” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, yes,” said poor Esther; “but he loved me truly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ven I should hafe known—I should hafe made you to protest——” + </p> + <p> + “You are off your head, Monsieur le Baron,” said Louchard; “there is a + third endorsement.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dere is a tird endorsement—Cerizet! A man of de opposition.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you write an order on your cashier, Monsieur le Baron?” said + Louchard. “I will send Contenson to him and dismiss my men. It is getting + late, and everybody will know that——” + </p> + <p> + “Go den, Contenson,” said Nucingen. “My cashier lives at de corner of Rue + des Mathurins and Rue de l’Arcate. Here is ein vort for dat he shall go to + du Tillet or to de Kellers, in case ve shall not hafe a hundert tousant + franc—for our cash shall be at de Bank.—Get dress’, my + anchel,” he said to Esther. “You are at liberty.—An’ old vomans,” he + went on, looking at Asie, “are more dangerous as young vomans.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go and give the creditor a good laugh,” said Asie, “and he will + give me something for a treat to-day.—We bear no malice, Monsieur le + Baron,” added Saint-Esteve with a horrible courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Louchard took the bills out of the Baron’s hands, and remained alone with + him in the drawing-room, whither, half an hour later, the cashier came, + followed by Contenson. Esther then reappeared in a bewitching, though + improvised, costume. When the money had been counted by Louchard, the + Baron wished to examine the bills; but Esther snatched them with a + cat-like grab, and carried them away to her desk. + </p> + <p> + “What will you give the rabble?” said Contenson to Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “You hafe not shown much consideration,” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “And what about my leg?” cried Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “Louchard, you shall gife ein hundert francs to Contenson out of the + change of the tousand-franc note.” + </p> + <p> + “De lady is a beauty,” said the cashier to the Baron, as they left the Rue + Taitbout, “but she is costing you ver’ dear, Monsieur le Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep my segret,” said the Baron, who had said the same to Contenson and + Louchard. + </p> + <p> + Louchard went away with Contenson; but on the boulevard Asie, who was + looking out for him, stopped Louchard. + </p> + <p> + “The bailiff and the creditor are there in a cab,” said she. “They are + thirsty, and there is money going.” + </p> + <p> + While Louchard counted out the cash, Contenson studied the customers. He + recognized Carlos by his eyes, and traced the form of his forehead under + the wig. The wig he shrewdly regarded as suspicious; he took the number of + the cab while seeming quite indifferent to what was going on; Asie and + Europe puzzled him beyond measure. He thought that the Baron was the + victim of excessively clever sharpers, all the more so because Louchard, + when securing his services, had been singularly close. And besides, the + twist of Europe’s foot had not struck his shin only. + </p> + <p> + “A trick like that is learned at Saint-Lazare,” he had reflected as he got + up. + </p> + <p> + Carlos dismissed the bailiff, paying him liberally, and as he did so, said + to the driver of the cab, “To the Perron, Palais Royal.” + </p> + <p> + “The rascal!” thought Contenson as he heard the order. “There is something + up!” Carlos drove to the Palais Royal at a pace which precluded all fear + of pursuit. He made his way in his own fashion through the arcades, took + another cab on the Place du Chateau d’Eau, and bid the man go “to the + Passage de l’Opera, the end of the Rue Pinon.” + </p> + <p> + A quarter of a hour later he was in the Rue Taitbout. On seeing him, + Esther said: + </p> + <p> + “Here are the fatal papers.” + </p> + <p> + Carlos took the bills, examined them, and then burned them in the kitchen + fire. + </p> + <p> + “We have done the trick,” he said, showing her three hundred and ten + thousand francs in a roll, which he took out of the pocket of his coat. + “This, and the hundred thousand francs squeezed out by Asie, set us free + to act.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh God, oh God!” cried poor Esther. + </p> + <p> + “But, you idiot,” said the ferocious swindler, “you have only to be + ostensibly Nucingen’s mistress, and you can always see Lucien; he is + Nucingen’s friend; I do not forbid your being madly in love with him.” + </p> + <p> + Esther saw a glimmer of light in her darkened life; she breathed once + more. + </p> + <p> + “Europe, my girl,” said Carlos, leading the creature into a corner of the + boudoir where no one could overhear a word, “Europe, I am pleased with + you.” + </p> + <p> + Europe held up her head, and looked at this man with an expression which + so completely changed her faded features, that Asie, witnessing the + interview, as she watched her from the door, wondered whether the interest + by which Carlos held Europe might not perhaps be even stronger than that + by which she herself was bound to him. + </p> + <p> + “That is not all, my child. Four hundred thousand francs are a mere + nothing to me. Paccard will give you an account for some plate, amounting + to thirty thousand francs, on which money has been paid on account; but + our goldsmith, Biddin, has paid money for us. Our furniture, seized by + him, will no doubt be advertised to-morrow. Go and see Biddin; he lives in + the Rue de l’Arbre Sec; he will give you Mont-de-Piete tickets for ten + thousand francs. You understand, Esther ordered the plate; she had not + paid for it, and she put it up the spout. She will be in danger of a + little summons for swindling. So we must pay the goldsmith the thirty + thousand francs, and pay up ten thousand francs to the Mont-de-Piete to + get the plate back. Forty-three thousand francs in all, including the + costs. The silver is very much alloyed; the Baron will give her a new + service, and we shall bone a few thousand francs out of that. You owe—what? + two years’ account with the dressmaker?” + </p> + <p> + “Put it at six thousand francs,” replied Europe. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if Madame Auguste wants to be paid and keep our custom, tell her to + make out a bill for thirty thousand francs over four years. Make a similar + arrangement with the milliner. The jeweler, Samuel Frisch the Jew, in the + Rue Saint-Avoie, will lend you some pawn-tickets; we must owe him + twenty-five thousand francs, and we must want six thousand for jewels + pledged at the Mont-de-Piete. We will return the trinkets to the jeweler, + half the stones will be imitation, but the Baron will not examine them. In + short, you will make him fork out another hundred and fifty thousand + francs to add to our nest-eggs within a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame might give me a little help,” said Europe. “Tell her so, for she + sits there mumchance, and obliges me to find more inventions than three + authors for one piece.” + </p> + <p> + “If Esther turns prudish, just let me know,” said Carlos. “Nucingen must + give her a carriage and horses; she will have to choose and buy everything + herself. Go to the horse-dealer and the coachmaker who are employed by the + job-master where Paccard finds work. We shall get handsome horses, very + dear, which will go lame within a month, and we shall have to change + them.” + </p> + <p> + “We might get six thousand francs out of a perfumer’s bill,” said Europe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said he, shaking his head, “we must go gently. Nucingen has only got + his arm into the press; we must have his head. Besides all this, I must + get five hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “You can get them,” replied Europe. “Madame will soften towards the fat + fool for about six hundred thousand, and insist on four hundred thousand + more to love him truly!” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, my child,” said Carlos. “The day when I get the last + hundred thousand francs, there shall be twenty thousand for you.” + </p> + <p> + “What good will they do me?” said Europe, letting her arms drop like a + woman to whom life seems impossible. + </p> + <p> + “You could go back to Valenciennes, buy a good business, and set up as an + honest woman if you chose; there are many tastes in human nature. Paccard + thinks of settling sometimes; he has no encumbrances on his hands, and not + much on his conscience; you might suit each other,” replied Carlos. + </p> + <p> + “Go back to Valenciennes! What are you thinking of, monsieur?” cried + Europe in alarm. + </p> + <p> + Europe, who was born at Valenciennes, the child of very poor parents, had + been sent at seven years of age to a spinning factory, where the demands + of modern industry had impaired her physical strength, just as vice had + untimely depraved her. Corrupted at the age of twelve, and a mother at + thirteen, she found herself bound to the most degraded of human creatures. + On the occasion of a murder case, she had been as a witness before the + Court. Haunted at sixteen by a remnant of rectitude, and the terror + inspired by the law, her evidence led to the prisoner being sentenced to + twenty years of hard labor. + </p> + <p> + The convict, one of those men who have been in the hands of justice more + than once, and whose temper is apt at terrible revenge, had said to the + girl in open court: + </p> + <p> + “In ten years, as sure as you live, Prudence” (Europe’s name was Prudence + Servien), “I will return to be the death of you, if I am scragged for it.” + </p> + <p> + The President of the Court tried to reassure the girl by promising her the + protection and the care of the law; but the poor child was so + terror-stricken that she fell ill, and was in hospital nearly a year. + Justice is an abstract being, represented by a collection of individuals + who are incessantly changing, whose good intentions and memories are, like + themselves, liable to many vicissitudes. Courts and tribunals can do + nothing to hinder crimes; their business is to deal with them when done. + From this point of view, a preventive police would be a boon to a country; + but the mere word Police is in these days a bugbear to legislators, who no + longer can distinguish between the three words—Government, + Administration, and Law-making. The legislator tends to centralize + everything in the State, as if the State could act. + </p> + <p> + The convict would be sure always to remember his victim, and to avenge + himself when Justice had ceased to think of either of them. + </p> + <p> + Prudence, who instinctively appreciated the danger—in a general + sense, so to speak—left Valenciennes and came to Paris at the age of + seventeen to hide there. She tried four trades, of which the most + successful was that of a “super” at a minor theatre. She was picked up by + Paccard, and to him she told her woes. Paccard, Jacques Collin’s disciple + and right-hand man, spoke of this girl to his master, and when the master + needed a slave he said to Prudence: + </p> + <p> + “If you will serve me as the devil must be served, I will rid you of + Durut.” + </p> + <p> + Durut was the convict; the Damocles’ sword hung over Prudence Servien’s + head. + </p> + <p> + But for these details, many critics would have thought Europe’s attachment + somewhat grotesque. And no one could have understood the startling + announcement that Carlos had ready. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my girl, you can go back to Valenciennes. Here, read this.” + </p> + <p> + And he held out to her yesterday’s paper, pointing to this paragraph: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “TOULON—Yesterday, Jean Francois Durut was executed here. Early + in the morning the garrison,” etc. +</pre> + <p> + Prudence dropped the paper; her legs gave way under the weight of her + body; she lived again; for, to use her own words, she never liked the + taste of her food since the day when Durut had threatened her. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I have kept my word. It has taken four years to bring Durut to + the scaffold by leading him into a snare.—Well, finish my job here, + and you will find yourself at the head of a little country business in + your native town, with twenty thousand francs of your own as Paccard’s + wife, and I will allow him to be virtuous as a form of pension.” + </p> + <p> + Europe picked up the paper and read with greedy eyes all the details, of + which for twenty years the papers have never been tired, as to the death + of convicted criminals: the impressive scene, the chaplain—who has + always converted the victim—the hardened criminal preaching to his + fellow convicts, the battery of guns, the convicts on their knees; and + then the twaddle and reflections which never lead to any change in the + management of the prisons where eighteen hundred crimes are herded. + </p> + <p> + “We must place Asie on the staff once more,” said Carlos. + </p> + <p> + Asie came forward, not understanding Europe’s pantomime. + </p> + <p> + “In bringing her back here as cook, you must begin by giving the Baron + such a dinner as he never ate in his life,” he went on. “Tell him that + Asie has lost all her money at play, and has taken service once more. We + shall not need an outdoor servant. Paccard shall be coachman. Coachmen do + not leave their box, where they are safe out of the way; and he will run + less risk from spies. Madame must turn him out in a powdered wig and a + braided felt cocked hat; that will alter his appearance. Besides, I will + make him us.” + </p> + <p> + “Are we going to have men-servants in the house?” asked Asie with a leer. + </p> + <p> + “All honest folks,” said Carlos. + </p> + <p> + “All soft-heads,” retorted the mulatto. + </p> + <p> + “If the Baron takes a house, Paccard has a friend who will suit as the + lodge porter,” said Carlos. “Then we shall only need a footman and a + kitchen-maid, and you can surely keep an eye on two strangers——” + </p> + <p> + As Carlos was leaving, Paccard made his appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a little while, there are people in the street,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + This simple statement was alarming. Carlos went up to Europe’s room, and + stayed there till Paccard came to fetch him, having called a hackney cab + that came into the courtyard. Carlos pulled down the blinds, and was + driven off at a pace that defied pursuit. + </p> + <p> + Having reached the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, he got out at a short distance + from a hackney coach stand, to which he went on foot, and thence returned + to the Quai Malaquais, escaping all inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Here, child,” said he to Lucien, showing him four hundred banknotes for a + thousand francs, “here is something on account for the purchase of the + estates of Rubempre. We will risk a hundred thousand. Omnibuses have just + been started; the Parisians will take to the novelty; in three months we + shall have trebled our capital. I know the concern; they will pay splendid + dividends taken out of the capital, to put a head on the shares—an + old idea of Nucingen’s revived. If we acquire the Rubempre land, we shall + not have to pay on the nail. + </p> + <p> + “You must go and see des Lupeaulx, and beg him to give you a personal + recommendation to a lawyer named Desroches, a cunning dog, whom you must + call on at his office. Get him to go to Rubempre and see how the land + lies; promise him a premium of twenty thousand francs if he manages to + secure you thirty thousand francs a year by investing eight hundred + thousand francs in land round the ruins of the old house.” + </p> + <p> + “How you go on—on! on!” + </p> + <p> + “I am always going on. This is no time for joking.—You must then + invest a hundred thousand crowns in Treasury bonds, so as to lose no + interest; you may safely leave it to Desroches, he is as honest as he is + knowing.—That being done, get off to Angouleme, and persuade your + sister and your brother-in-law to pledge themselves to a little fib in the + way of business. Your relations are to have given you six hundred thousand + francs to promote your marriage with Clotilde de Grandlieu; there is no + disgrace in that.” + </p> + <p> + “We are saved!” cried Lucien, dazzled. + </p> + <p> + “You are, yes!” replied Carlos. “But even you are not safe till you walk + out of Saint-Thomas d’Aquin with Clotilde as your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “And what have you to fear?” said Lucien, apparently much concerned for + his counselor. + </p> + <p> + “Some inquisitive souls are on my track—I must assume the manners of + a genuine priest; it is most annoying. The Devil will cease to protect me + if he sees me with a breviary under my arm.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the Baron de Nucingen, who was leaning on his cashier’s + arm, reached the door of his mansion. + </p> + <p> + “I am ver’ much afrait,” said he, as he went in, “dat I hafe done a bat + day’s vork. Vell, we must make it up some oder vays.” + </p> + <p> + “De misfortune is dat you shall hafe been caught, mein Herr Baron,” said + the worthy German, whose whole care was for appearances. + </p> + <p> + “Ja, my miss’ess en titre should be in a position vody of me,” said this + Louis XIV. of the counting-house. + </p> + <p> + Feeling sure that sooner or later Esther would be his, the Baron was now + himself again, a masterly financier. He resumed the management of his + affairs, and with such effect that his cashier, finding him in his office + room at six o’clock next morning, verifying his securities, rubbed his + hands with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! mein Herr Baron, you shall hafe saved money last night!” said he, + with a half-cunning, half-loutish German grin. + </p> + <p> + Though men who are as rich as the Baron de Nucingen have more + opportunities than others for losing money, they also have more chances of + making it, even when they indulge their follies. Though the financial + policy of the house of Nucingen has been explained elsewhere, it may be as + well to point out that such immense fortunes are not made, are not built + up, are not increased, and are not retained in the midst of the + commercial, political, and industrial revolutions of the present day but + at the cost of immense losses, or, if you choose to view it so, of heavy + taxes on private fortunes. Very little newly-created wealth is thrown into + the common treasury of the world. Every fresh accumulation represents some + new inequality in the general distribution of wealth. What the State + exacts it makes some return for; but what a house like that of Nucingen + takes, it keeps. + </p> + <p> + Such covert robbery escapes the law for the reason which would have made a + Jacques Collin of Frederick the Great, if, instead of dealing with + provinces by means of battles, he had dealt in smuggled goods or + transferable securities. The high politics of money-making consist in + forcing the States of Europe to issue loans at twenty or at ten per cent, + in making that twenty or ten per cent by the use of public funds, in + squeezing industry on a vast scale by buying up raw material, in throwing + a rope to the first founder of a business just to keep him above water + till his drowned-out enterprise is safely landed—in short, in all + the great battles for money-getting. + </p> + <p> + The banker, no doubt, like the conqueror, runs risks; but there are so few + men in a position to wage this warfare, that the sheep have no business to + meddle. Such grand struggles are between the shepherds. Thus, as the + defaulters are guilty of having wanted to win too much, very little + sympathy is felt as a rule for the misfortunes brought about by the + coalition of the Nucingens. If a speculator blows his brains out, if a + stockbroker bolts, if a lawyer makes off with the fortune of a hundred + families—which is far worse than killing a man—if a banker is + insolvent, all these catastrophes are forgotten in Paris in few months, + and buried under the oceanic surges of the great city. + </p> + <p> + The colossal fortunes of Jacques Coeur, of the Medici, of the Angos of + Dieppe, of the Auffredis of la Rochelle, of the Fuggers, of the Tiepolos, + of the Corners, were honestly made long ago by the advantages they had + over the ignorance of the people as to the sources of precious products; + but nowadays geographical information has reached the masses, and + competition has so effectually limited the profits, that every rapidly + made fortune is the result of chance, or of a discovery, or of some + legalized robbery. The lower grades of mercantile enterprise have retorted + on the perfidious dealings of higher commerce, especially during the last + ten years, by base adulteration of the raw material. Wherever chemistry is + practised, wine is no longer procurable; the vine industry is consequently + waning. Manufactured salt is sold to avoid the excise. The tribunals are + appalled by this universal dishonesty. In short, French trade is regarded + with suspicion by the whole world, and England too is fast being + demoralized. + </p> + <p> + With us the mischief has its origin in the political situation. The + Charter proclaimed the reign of Money, and success has become the supreme + consideration of an atheistic age. And, indeed, the corruption of the + higher ranks is infinitely more hideous, in spite of the dazzling display + and specious arguments of wealth, than that ignoble and more personal + corruption of the inferior classes, of which certain details lend a comic + element—terrible, if you will—to this drama. The Government, + always alarmed by a new idea, has banished these materials of modern + comedy from the stage. The citizen class, less liberal than Louis XIV., + dreads the advent of its <i>Mariage de Figaro</i>, forbids the appearance + of a political <i>Tartuffe</i>, and certainly would not allow <i>Turcaret</i> + to be represented, for Turcaret is king. Consequently, comedy has to be + narrated, and a book is now the weapon—less swift, but no more sure—that + writers wield. + </p> + <p> + In the course of this morning, amid the coming and going of callers, + orders to be given, and brief interviews, making Nucingen’s private office + a sort of financial lobby, one of his stockbrokers announced to him the + disappearance of a member of the Company, one of the richest and cleverest + too—Jacques Falleix, brother of Martin Falleix, and the successor of + Jules Desmarets. Jacques Falleix was stockbroker in ordinary to the house + of Nucingen. In concert with du Tillet and the Kellers, the Baron had + plotted the ruin of this man in cold blood, as if it had been the killing + of a Passover lamb. + </p> + <p> + “He could not hafe helt on,” replied the Baron quietly. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Falleix had done them immense service in stock-jobbing. During a + crisis a few months since he had saved the situation by acting boldly. But + to look for gratitude from a money-dealer is as vain as to try to touch + the heart of the wolves of the Ukraine in winter. + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow!” said the stockbroker. “He so little anticipated such a + catastrophe, that he had furnished a little house for his mistress in the + Rue Saint-Georges; he has spent one hundred and fifty thousand francs in + decorations and furniture. He was so devoted to Madame du Val-Noble! The + poor woman must give it all up. And nothing is paid for.” + </p> + <p> + “Goot, goot!” thought Nucingen, “dis is de very chance to make up for vat + I hafe lost dis night!—He hafe paid for noting?” he asked his + informant. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said the stockbroker, “where would you find a tradesman so ill + informed as to refuse credit to Jacques Falleix? There is a splendid + cellar of wine, it would seem. By the way, the house is for sale; he meant + to buy it. The lease is in his name.—What a piece of folly! Plate, + furniture, wine, carriage-horses, everything will be valued in a lump, and + what will the creditors get out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Come again to-morrow,” said Nucingen. “I shall hafe seen all dat; and if + it is not a declared bankruptcy, if tings can be arranged and compromised, + I shall tell you to offer some reasonaple price for dat furniture, if I + shall buy de lease——” + </p> + <p> + “That can be managed,” said his friend. “If you go there this morning, you + will find one of Falleix’s partners there with the tradespeople, who want + to establish a first claim; but la Val-Noble has their accounts made out + to Falleix.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron sent off one of his clerks forthwith to his lawyer. Jacques + Falleix had spoken to him about this house, which was worth sixty thousand + francs at most, and he wished to be put in possession of it at once, so as + to avail himself of the privileges of the householder. + </p> + <p> + The cashier, honest man, came to inquire whether his master had lost + anything by Falleix’s bankruptcy. + </p> + <p> + “On de contrar’ mein goot Volfgang, I stant to vin ein hundert tousant + francs.” + </p> + <p> + “How vas dat?” + </p> + <p> + “Vell, I shall hafe de little house vat dat poor Teufel Falleix should + furnish for his mis’ess this year. I shall hafe all dat for fifty tousant + franc to de creditors; and my notary, Maitre Cardot, shall hafe my orders + to buy de house, for de lan’lord vant de money—I knew dat, but I hat + lost mein head. Ver’ soon my difine Esther shall life in a little + palace.... I hafe been dere mit Falleix—it is close to here.—It + shall fit me like a glofe.” + </p> + <p> + Falleix’s failure required the Baron’s presence at the Bourse; but he + could not bear to leave his house in the Rue Saint-Lazare without going to + the Rue Taitbout; he was already miserable at having been away from Esther + for so many hours. He would have liked to keep her at his elbow. The + profits he hoped to make out of his stockbrokers’ plunder made the former + loss of four hundred thousand francs quite easy to endure. + </p> + <p> + Delighted to announce to his “anchel” that she was to move from the Rue + Taitbout to the Rue Saint-Georges, where she was to have “ein little + palace” where her memories would no longer rise up in antagonism to their + happiness, the pavement felt elastic under his feet; he walked like a + young man in a young man’s dream. As he turned the corner of the Rue des + Trois Freres, in the middle of his dream, and of the road, the Baron + beheld Europe coming towards him, looking very much upset. + </p> + <p> + “Vere shall you go?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, I was on my way to you. You were quite right yesterday. I + see now that poor madame had better have gone to prison for a few days. + But how should women understand money matters? When madame’s creditors + heard that she had come home, they all came down upon us like birds of + prey.—Last evening, at seven o’clock, monsieur, men came and stuck + terrible posters up to announce a sale of furniture on Saturday—but + that is nothing.—Madame, who is all heart, once upon a time to + oblige that wretch of a man you know——” + </p> + <p> + “Vat wretch?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the man she was in love with, d’Estourny—well, he was + charming! He was only a gambler——” + </p> + <p> + “He gambled with beveled cards!” + </p> + <p> + “Well—and what do you do at the Bourse?” said Europe. “But let me go + on. One day, to hinder Georges, as he said, from blowing out his brains, + she pawned all her plate and her jewels, which had never been paid for. + Now on hearing that she had given something to one of her creditors, they + came in a body and made a scene. They threaten her with the police-court—your + angel at that bar! Is it not enough to make a wig stand on end? She is + bathed in tears; she talks of throwing herself into the river—and + she will do it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I shall go to see her, dat is goot-bye to de Bourse; an’ it is + impossible but I shall go, for I shall make some money for her—you + shall compose her. I shall pay her debts; I shall go to see her at four + o’clock. But tell me, Eugenie, dat she shall lofe me a little——” + </p> + <p> + “A little?—A great deal!—I tell you what, monsieur, nothing + but generosity can win a woman’s heart. You would, no doubt, have saved a + hundred thousand francs or so by letting her go to prison. Well, you would + never have won her heart. As she said to me—‘Eugenie, he has been + noble, grand—he has a great soul.’” + </p> + <p> + “She hafe said dat, Eugenie?” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, to me, myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Here—take dis ten louis.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.—But she is crying at this moment; she has been crying + ever since yesterday as much as a weeping Magdalen could have cried in six + months. The woman you love is in despair, and for debts that are not even + hers! Oh! men—they devour women as women devour old fogies—there!” + </p> + <p> + “Dey all is de same!—She hafe pledge’ herself.—Vy, no one + shall ever pledge herself.—Tell her dat she shall sign noting more.—I + shall pay; but if she shall sign something more—I——” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do?” said Europe with an air. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott! I hafe no power over her.—I shall take de management of + her little affairs——Dere, dere, go to comfort her, and you + shall say that in ein mont she shall live in a little palace.” + </p> + <p> + “You have invested heavily, Monsieur le Baron, and for large interest, in + a woman’s heart. I tell you—you look to me younger. I am but a + waiting-maid, but I have often seen such a change. It is happiness—happiness + gives a certain glow.... If you have spent a little money, do not let that + worry you; you will see what a good return it will bring. And I said to + madame, I told her she would be the lowest of the low, a perfect hussy, if + she did not love you, for you have picked her out of hell.—When once + she has nothing on her mind, you will see. Between you and me, I may tell + you, that night when she cried so much—What is to be said, we value + the esteem of the man who maintains us—and she did not dare tell you + everything. She wanted to fly.” + </p> + <p> + “To fly!” cried the Baron, in dismay at the notion. “But the Bourse, the + Bourse!—Go ‘vay, I shall not come in.—But tell her that I + shall see her at her window—dat shall gife me courage!” + </p> + <p> + Esther smiled at Monsieur de Nucingen as he passed the house, and he went + ponderously on his way, saying: + </p> + <p> + “She is ein anchel!” + </p> + <p> + This was how Europe had succeeded in achieving the impossible. At about + half-past two Esther had finished dressing, as she was wont to dress when + she expected Lucien; she was looking charming. Seeing this, Prudence, + looking out of the window, said, “There is monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + The poor creature flew to the window, thinking she would see Lucien; she + saw Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how cruelly you hurt me!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “There is no other way of getting you to seem to be gracious to a poor old + man, who, after all, is going to pay your debts,” said Europe. “For they + are all to be paid.” + </p> + <p> + “What debts?” said the girl, who only cared to preserve her love, which + dreadful hands were scattering to the winds. + </p> + <p> + “Those which Monsieur Carlos made in your name.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, here are nearly four hundred and fifty thousand francs,” cried + Esther. + </p> + <p> + “And you owe a hundred and fifty thousand more. But the Baron took it all + very well.—He is going to remove you from hence, and place you in a + little palace.—On my honor, you are not so badly off. In your place, + as you have got on the right side of this man, as soon as Carlos is + satisfied, I should make him give me a house and a settled income. You are + certainly the handsomest woman I ever saw, madame, and the most + attractive, but we so soon grow ugly! I was fresh and good-looking, and + look at me! I am twenty-three, about the same age as madame, and I look + ten years older. An illness is enough.—Well, but when you have a + house in Paris and investments, you need never be afraid of ending in the + streets.” + </p> + <p> + Esther had ceased to listen to Europe-Eugenie-Prudence Servien. The will + of a man gifted with the genius of corruption had thrown Esther back into + the mud with as much force as he had used to drag her out of it. + </p> + <p> + Those who know love in its infinitude know that those who do not accept + its virtues do not experience its pleasures. Since the scene in the den in + the Rue de Langlade, Esther had utterly forgotten her former existence. + She had since lived very virtuously, cloistered by her passion. Hence, to + avoid any obstacle, the skilful fiend had been clever enough to lay such a + train that the poor girl, prompted by her devotion, had merely to utter + her consent to swindling actions already done, or on the point of + accomplishment. This subtlety, revealing the mastery of the tempter, also + characterized the methods by which he had subjugated Lucien. He created a + terrible situation, dug a mine, filled it with powder, and at the critical + moment said to his accomplice, “You have only to nod, and the whole will + explode!” + </p> + <p> + Esther of old, knowing only the morality peculiar to courtesans, thought + all these attentions so natural, that she measured her rivals only by what + they could get men to spend on them. Ruined fortunes are the + conduct-stripes of these creatures. Carlos, in counting on Esther’s + memory, had not calculated wrongly. + </p> + <p> + These tricks of warfare, these stratagems employed a thousand times, not + only by these women, but by spendthrifts too, did not disturb Esther’s + mind. She felt nothing but her personal degradation; she loved Lucien, she + was to be the Baron de Nucingen’s mistress “by appointment”; this was all + she thought of. The supposed Spaniard might absorb the earnest-money, + Lucien might build up his fortune with the stones of her tomb, a single + night of pleasure might cost the old banker so many thousand-franc notes + more or less, Europe might extract a few hundred thousand francs by more + or less ingenious trickery,—none of these things troubled the + enamored girl; this alone was the canker that ate into her heart. For five + years she had looked upon herself as being as white as an angel. She + loved, she was happy, she had never committed the smallest infidelity. + This beautiful pure love was now to be defiled. + </p> + <p> + There was, in her mind, no conscious contrasting of her happy isolated + past and her foul future life. It was neither interest nor sentiment that + moved her, only an indefinable and all powerful feeling that she had been + white and was now black, pure and was now impure, noble and was now + ignoble. Desiring to be the ermine, moral taint seemed to her unendurable. + And when the Baron’s passion had threatened her, she had really thought of + throwing herself out of the window. In short, she loved Lucien wholly, and + as women very rarely love a man. Women who say they love, who often think + they love best, dance, waltz, and flirt with other men, dress for the + world, and look for a harvest of concupiscent glances; but Esther, without + any sacrifice, had achieved miracles of true love. She had loved Lucien + for six years as actresses love and courtesans—women who, having + rolled in mire and impurity, thirst for something noble, for the + self-devotion of true love, and who practice exclusiveness—the only + word for an idea so little known in real life. + </p> + <p> + Vanished nations, Greece, Rome, and the East, have at all times kept women + shut up; the woman who loves should shut herself up. So it may easily be + imagined that on quitting the palace of her fancy, where this poem had + been enacted, to go to this old man’s “little palace,” Esther felt + heartsick. Urged by an iron hand, she had found herself waist-deep in + disgrace before she had time to reflect; but for the past two days she had + been reflecting, and felt a mortal chill about her heart. + </p> + <p> + At the words, “End in the street,” she started to her feet and said: + </p> + <p> + “In the street!—No, in the Seine rather.” + </p> + <p> + “In the Seine? And what about Monsieur Lucien?” said Europe. + </p> + <p> + This single word brought Esther to her seat again; she remained in her + armchair, her eyes fixed on a rosette in the carpet, the fire in her brain + drying up her tears. + </p> + <p> + At four o’clock Nucingen found his angel lost in that sea of meditations + and resolutions whereon a woman’s spirit floats, and whence she emerges + with utterances that are incomprehensible to those who have not sailed it + in her convoy. + </p> + <p> + “Clear your brow, meine Schone,” said the Baron, sitting down by her. “You + shall hafe no more debts—I shall arrange mit Eugenie, an’ in ein + mont you shall go ‘vay from dese rooms and go to dat little palace.—Vas + a pretty hant.—Gife it me dat I shall kiss it.” Esther gave him her + hand as a dog gives a paw. “Ach, ja! You shall gife de hant, but not de + heart, and it is dat heart I lofe!” + </p> + <p> + The words were spoken with such sincerity of accent, that poor Esther + looked at the old man with a compassion in her eyes that almost maddened + him. Lovers, like martyrs, feel a brotherhood in their sufferings! Nothing + in the world gives such a sense of kindred as community of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” said she, “he really loves.” + </p> + <p> + As he heard the words, misunderstanding their meaning, the Baron turned + pale, the blood tingled in his veins, he breathed the airs of heaven. At + his age a millionaire, for such a sensation, will pay as much gold as a + woman can ask. + </p> + <p> + “I lofe you like vat I lofe my daughter,” said he. “An’ I feel dere”—and + he laid her hand over his heart—“dat I shall not bear to see you + anyting but happy.” + </p> + <p> + “If you would only be a father to me, I would love you very much; I would + never leave you; and you would see that I am not a bad woman, not grasping + or greedy, as I must seem to you now——” + </p> + <p> + “You hafe done some little follies,” said the Baron, “like all dose pretty + vomen—dat is all. Say no more about dat. It is our pusiness to make + money for you. Be happy! I shall be your fater for some days yet, for I + know I must make you accustom’ to my old carcase.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” she exclaimed, springing on to Nucingen’s knees, and clinging to + him with her arm round his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Really!” repeated he, trying to force a smile. + </p> + <p> + She kissed his forehead; she believed in an impossible combination—she + might remain untouched and see Lucien. + </p> + <p> + She was so coaxing to the banker that she was La Torpille once more. She + fairly bewitched the old man, who promised to be a father to her for forty + days. Those forty days were to be employed in acquiring and arranging the + house in the Rue Saint-Georges. + </p> + <p> + When he was in the street again, as he went home, the Baron said to + himself, “I am an old flat.” + </p> + <p> + But though in Esther’s presence he was a mere child, away from her he + resumed his lynx’s skin; just as the gambler (in <i>le Joueur</i>) becomes + affectionate to Angelique when he has not a liard. + </p> + <p> + “A half a million francs I hafe paid, and I hafe not yet seen vat her leg + is like.—Dat is too silly! but, happily, nobody shall hafe known + it!” said he to himself three weeks after. + </p> + <p> + And he made great resolutions to come to the point with the woman who had + cost him so dear; then, in Esther’s presence once more, he spent all the + time he could spare her in making up for the roughness of his first words. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” said he, at the end of a month, “I cannot be de fater + eternal!” + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of the month of December 1829, just before installing + Esther in the house in the Rue Saint-Georges, the Baron begged du Tillet + to take Florine there, that she might see whether everything was suitable + to Nucingen’s fortune, and if the description of “a little palace” were + duly realized by the artists commissioned to make the cage worthy of the + bird. + </p> + <p> + Every device known to luxury before the Revolution of 1830 made this + residence a masterpiece of taste. Grindot the architect considered it his + greatest achievement as a decorator. The staircase, which had been + reconstructed of marble, the judicious use of stucco ornament, textiles, + and gilding, the smallest details as much as the general effect, outdid + everything of the kind left in Paris from the time of Louis XV. + </p> + <p> + “This is my dream!—This and virtue!” said Florine with a smile. “And + for whom are you spending all this money?” + </p> + <p> + “For a voman vat is going up there,” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “A way of playing Jupiter?” replied the actress. “And when is she on + show?” + </p> + <p> + “On the day of the house-warming,” cried du Tillet. + </p> + <p> + “Not before dat,” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “My word, how we must lace and brush and fig ourselves out,” Florine went + on. “What a dance the women will lead their dressmakers and hairdressers + for that evening’s fun!—And when is it to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Dat is not for me to say.” + </p> + <p> + “What a woman she must be!” cried Florine. “How much I should like to see + her!” + </p> + <p> + “An’ so should I,” answered the Baron artlessly. + </p> + <p> + “What! is everything new together—the house, the furniture, and the + woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Even the banker,” said du Tillet, “for my old friend seems to me quite + young again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he must go back to his twentieth year,” said Florine; “at any rate, + for once.” + </p> + <p> + In the early days of 1830 everybody in Paris was talking of Nucingen’s + passion and the outrageous splendor of his house. The poor Baron, pointed + at, laughed at, and fuming with rage, as may easily be imagined, took it + into his head that on the occasion of giving the house-warming he would at + the same time get rid of his paternal disguise, and get the price of so + much generosity. Always circumvented by “La Torpille,” he determined to + treat of their union by correspondence, so as to win from her an autograph + promise. Bankers have no faith in anything less than a promissory note. + </p> + <p> + So one morning early in the year he rose early, locked himself into his + room, and composed the following letter in very good French; for though he + spoke the language very badly, he could write it very well:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “DEAR ESTHER, the flower of my thoughts and the only joy of my + life, when I told you that I loved you as I love my daughter, I + deceived you, I deceived myself. I only wished to express the + holiness of my sentiments, which are unlike those felt by other + men, in the first place, because I am an old man, and also because + I have never loved till now. I love you so much, that if you cost + me my fortune I should not love you the less. + + “Be just! Most men would not, like me, have seen the angel in you; + I have never even glanced at your past. I love you both as I love + my daughter, Augusta, and as I might love my wife, if my wife + could have loved me. Since the only excuse for an old man’s love + is that he should be happy, ask yourself if I am not playing a too + ridiculous part. I have taken you to be the consolation and joy of + my declining days. You know that till I die you will be as happy + as a woman can be; and you know, too, that after my death you will + be rich enough to be the envy of many women. In every stroke of + business I have effected since I have had the happiness of your + acquaintance, your share is set apart, and you have a standing + account with Nucingen’s bank. In a few days you will move into a + house, which sooner or later, will be your own if you like it. + Now, plainly, will you still receive me then as a father, or will + you make me happy? + + “Forgive me for writing so frankly, but when I am with you I lose + all courage; I feel too keenly that you are indeed my mistress. I + have no wish to hurt you; I only want to tell you how much I + suffer, and how hard it is to wait at my age, when every day takes + with it some hopes and some pleasures. Besides, the delicacy of my + conduct is a guarantee of the sincerity of my intentions. Have I + ever behaved as your creditor? You are like a citadel, and I am + not a young man. In answer to my appeals, you say your life is at + stake, and when I hear you, you make me believe it; but here I + sink into dark melancholy and doubts dishonorable to us both. You + seemed to me as sweet and innocent as you are lovely; but you + insist on destroying my convictions. Ask yourself!—You tell me + you bear a passion in your heart, an indomitable passion, but you + refuse to tell me the name of the man you love.—Is this natural? + + “You have turned a fairly strong man into an incredibly weak one. + You see what I have come to; I am induced to ask you at the end of + five months what future hope there is for my passion. Again, I + must know what part I am to play at the opening of your house. + Money is nothing to me when it is spent for you; I will not be so + absurd as to make a merit to you of this contempt; but though my + love knows no limits, my fortune is limited, and I care for it + only for your sake. Well, if by giving you everything I possess I + might, as a poor man, win your affection, I would rather be poor + and loved than rich and scorned by you. + + “You have altered me so completely, my dear Esther, that no one + knows me; I paid ten thousand francs for a picture by Joseph + Bridau because you told me that he was clever and unappreciated. I + give every beggar I meet five francs in your name. Well, and what + does the poor man ask, who regards himself as your debtor when you + do him the honor of accepting anything he can give you? He asks + only for a hope—and what a hope, good God! Is it not rather the + certainty of never having anything from you but what my passion + may seize? The fire in my heart will abet your cruel deceptions. + You find me ready to submit to every condition you can impose on + my happiness, on my few pleasures; but promise me at least that on + the day when you take possession of your house you will accept the + heart and service of him who, for the rest of his days, must sign + himself your slave, + + “FREDERIC DE NUCINGEN.” + </pre> + <p> + “Faugh! how he bores me—this money bag!” cried Esther, a courtesan + once more. She took a small sheet of notepaper and wrote all over it, as + close as it could go, Scribe’s famous phrase, which has become a proverb, + “Prenez mon ours.” + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later, Esther, overcome by remorse, wrote the + following letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MONSIEUR LE BARON,— + + “Pay no heed to the note you have just received from me; I had + relapsed into the folly of my youth. Forgive, monsieur, a poor + girl who ought to be your slave. I never more keenly felt the + degradation of my position than on the day when I was handed over + to you. You have paid; I owe myself to you. There is nothing more + sacred than a debt of dishonor. I have no right to compound it by + throwing myself into the Seine. + + “A debt can always be discharged in that dreadful coin which is + good only to the debtor; you will find me yours to command. I will + pay off in one night all the sums for which that fatal hour has + been mortgaged; and I am sure that such an hour with me is worth + millions—all the more because it will be the only one, the last. + I shall then have paid the debt, and may get away from life. A + good woman has a chance of restoration after a fall; but we, the + like of us, fall too low. + + “My determination is so fixed that I beg you will keep this letter + in evidence of the cause of death of her who remains, for one day, + your servant, + + “ESTHER.” + </pre> + <p> + Having sent this letter, Esther felt a pang of regret. Ten minutes after + she wrote a third note, as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Forgive me, dear Baron—it is I once more. I did not mean either + to make game of you or to wound you; I only want you to reflect on + this simple argument: If we were to continue in the position + towards each other of father and daughter, your pleasure would be + small, but it would be enduring. If you insist on the terms of the + bargain, you will live to mourn for me. + + “I will trouble you no more: the day when you shall choose + pleasure rather than happiness will have no morrow for me.—Your + daughter, + + “ESTHER.” + </pre> + <p> + On receiving the first letter, the Baron fell into a cold fury such as a + millionaire may die of; he looked at himself in the glass and rang the + bell. + </p> + <p> + “An hot bat for mein feet,” said he to his new valet. + </p> + <p> + While he was sitting with his feet in the bath, the second letter came; he + read it, and fainted away. He was carried to bed. + </p> + <p> + When the banker recovered consciousness, Madame de Nucingen was sitting at + the foot of the bed. + </p> + <p> + “The hussy is right!” said she. “Why do you try to buy love? Is it to be + bought in the market!—Let me see your letter to her.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron gave her sundry rough drafts he had made; Madame de Nucingen + read them, and smiled. Then came Esther’s third letter. + </p> + <p> + “She is a wonderful girl!” cried the Baroness, when she had read it. + </p> + <p> + “Vat shall I do, montame?” asked the Baron of his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait? But nature is pitiless!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my dear, you have been admirably kind to me,” said Delphine; + “I will give you some good advice.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a ver’ goot voman,” said he. “Ven you hafe any debts I shall + pay.” + </p> + <p> + “Your state on receiving these letters touches a woman far more than the + spending of millions, or than all the letters you could write, however + fine they may be. Try to let her know it, indirectly; perhaps she will be + yours! And—have no scruples, she will not die of that,” added she, + looking keenly at her husband. + </p> + <p> + But Madame de Nucingen knew nothing whatever of the nature of such women. + </p> + <p> + “Vat a clefer voman is Montame de Nucingen!” said the Baron to himself + when his wife had left him. + </p> + <p> + Still, the more the Baron admired the subtlety of his wife’s counsel, the + less he could see how he might act upon it; and he not only felt that he + was stupid, but he told himself so. + </p> + <p> + The stupidity of wealthy men, though it is almost proverbial, is only + comparative. The faculties of the mind, like the dexterity of the limbs, + need exercise. The dancer’s strength is in his feet; the blacksmith’s in + his arms; the market porter is trained to carry loads; the singer works + his larynx; and the pianist hardens his wrist. A banker is practised in + business matters; he studies and plans them, and pulls the wires of + various interests, just as a playwright trains his intelligence in + combining situations, studying his actors, giving life to his dramatic + figures. + </p> + <p> + We should no more look for powers of conversation in the Baron de Nucingen + than for the imagery of a poet in the brain of a mathematician. How many + poets occur in an age, who are either good prose writers, or as witty in + the intercourse of daily life as Madame Cornuel? Buffon was dull company; + Newton was never in love; Lord Byron loved nobody but himself; Rousseau + was gloomy and half crazy; La Fontaine absent-minded. Human energy, + equally distributed, produces dolts, mediocrity in all; unequally bestowed + it gives rise to those incongruities to whom the name of Genius is given, + and which, if we only could see them, would look like deformities. The + same law governs the body; perfect beauty is generally allied with + coldness or silliness. Though Pascal was both a great mathematician and a + great writer, though Beaumarchais was a good man of business, and Zamet a + profound courtier, these rare exceptions prove the general principle of + the specialization of brain faculties. + </p> + <p> + Within the sphere of speculative calculations the banker put forth as much + intelligence and skill, finesse and mental power, as a practised + diplomatist expends on national affairs. If he were equally remarkable + outside his office, the banker would be a great man. Nucingen made one + with the Prince de Ligne, with Mazarin or with Diderot, is a human formula + that is almost inconceivable, but which has nevertheless been known as + Pericles, Aristotle, Voltaire, and Napoleon. The splendor of the Imperial + crown must not blind us to the merits of the individual; the Emperor was + charming, well informed, and witty. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Nucingen, a banker and nothing more, having no inventiveness + outside his business, like most bankers, had no faith in anything but + sound security. In matters of art he had the good sense to go, cash in + hand, to experts in every branch, and had recourse to the best architect, + the best surgeon, the greatest connoisseur in pictures or statues, the + cleverest lawyer, when he wished to build a house, to attend to his + health, to purchase a work of art or an estate. But as there are no + recognized experts in intrigue, no connoisseurs in love affairs, a banker + finds himself in difficulties when he is in love, and much puzzled as to + the management of a woman. So Nucingen could think of no better method + than that he had hitherto pursued—to give a sum of money to some + Frontin, male or female, to act and think for him. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Saint-Esteve alone could carry out the plan imagined by the + Baroness. Nucingen bitterly regretted having quarreled with the odious old + clothes-seller. However, feeling confident of the attractions of his + cash-box and the soothing documents signed Garat, he rang for his man and + told him in inquire for the repulsive widow in the Rue Saint-Marc, and + desire her to come to see him. + </p> + <p> + In Paris extremes are made to meet by passion. Vice is constantly binding + the rich to the poor, the great to the mean. The Empress consults + Mademoiselle Lenormand; the fine gentleman in every age can always find a + Ramponneau. + </p> + <p> + The man returned within two hours. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron,” said he, “Madame de Saint-Esteve is ruined.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so much de better!” cried the Baron in glee. “I shall hafe her safe + den.” + </p> + <p> + “The good woman is given to gambling, it would seem,” the valet went on. + “And, moreover, she is under the thumb of a third-rate actor in a suburban + theatre, whom, for decency’s sake, she calls her godson. She is a + first-rate cook, it would seem, and wants a place.” + </p> + <p> + “Dose teufel of geniuses of de common people hafe alvays ten vays of + making money, and ein dozen vays of spending it,” said the Baron to + himself, quite unconscious that Panurge had thought the same thing. + </p> + <p> + He sent his servant off in quest of Madame de Saint-Esteve, who did not + come till the next day. Being questioned by Asie, the servant revealed to + this female spy the terrible effects of the notes written to Monsieur le + Baron by his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur must be desperately in love with the woman,” said he in + conclusion, “for he was very near dying. For my part, I advised him never + to go back to her, for he will be wheedled over at once. A woman who has + already cost Monsieur le Baron five hundred thousand francs, they say, + without counting what he has spent on the house in the Rue Saint-Georges! + But the woman cares for money, and for money only.—As madame came + out of monsieur’s room, she said with a laugh: ‘If this goes on, that slut + will make a widow of me!’” + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” cried Asie; “it will never do to kill the goose that lays the + golden eggs.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron has no hope now but in you,” said the valet. + </p> + <p> + “Ay! The fact is, I do know how to make a woman go.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, walk in,” said the man, bowing to such occult powers. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the false Saint-Esteve, going into the sufferer’s room with + an abject air, “Monsieur le Baron has met with some difficulties? What can + you expect! Everybody is open to attack on his weak side. Dear me, I have + had my troubles too. Within two months the wheel of Fortune has turned + upside down for me. Here I am looking out for a place!—We have + neither of us been very wise. If Monsieur le Baron would take me as cook + to Madame Esther, I would be the most devoted of slaves. I should be + useful to you, monsieur, to keep an eye on Eugenie and madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Dere is no hope of dat,” said the Baron. “I cannot succeet in being de + master, I am let such a tance as——” + </p> + <p> + “As a top,” Asie put in. “Well, you have made others dance, daddy, and the + little slut has got you, and is making a fool of you.—Heaven is + just!” + </p> + <p> + “Just?” said the Baron. “I hafe not sent for you to preach to me——” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, my boy! A little moralizing breaks no bones. It is the salt of life + to the like of us, as vice is to your bigots.—Come, have you been + generous? You have paid her debts?” + </p> + <p> + “Ja,” said the Baron lamentably. + </p> + <p> + “That is well; and you have taken her things out of pawn, and that is + better. But you must see that it is not enough. All this gives her no + occupation, and these creatures love to cut a dash——” + </p> + <p> + “I shall hafe a surprise for her, Rue Saint-Georches—she knows dat,” + said the Baron. “But I shall not be made a fool of.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well then, let her go.” + </p> + <p> + “I am only afrait dat she shall let me go!” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “And we want our money’s worth, my boy,” replied Asie. “Listen to me. We + have fleeced the public of some millions, my little friend? Twenty-five + millions I am told you possess.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron could not suppress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you must let one go.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall let one go, but as soon as I shall let one go, I shall hafe to + give still another.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understand,” replied Asie. “You will not say B for fear of having + to go on to Z. Still, Esther is a good girl——” + </p> + <p> + “A ver’ honest girl,” cried the banker. “An’ she is ready to submit; but + only as in payment of a debt.” + </p> + <p> + “In short, she does not want to be your mistress; she feels an aversion.—Well, + and I understand it; the child has always done just what she pleased. When + a girl has never known any but charming young men, she cannot take to an + old one. You are not handsome; you are as big as Louis XVIII., and rather + dull company, as all men are who try to cajole fortune instead of devoting + themselves to women.—Well, if you don’t think six hundred thousand + francs too much,” said Asie, “I pledge myself to make her whatever you can + wish.” + </p> + <p> + “Six huntert tousant franc!” cried the Baron, with a start. “Esther is to + cost me a million to begin with!” + </p> + <p> + “Happiness is surely worth sixteen hundred thousand francs, you old + sinner. You must know, men in these days have certainly spent more than + one or two millions on a mistress. I even know women who have cost men + their lives, for whom heads have rolled into the basket.—You know + the doctor who poisoned his friend? He wanted the money to gratify a + woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ja, I know all dat. But if I am in lofe, I am not ein idiot, at least + vile I am here; but if I shall see her, I shall gife her my pocket-book——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, listen Monsieur le Baron,” said Asie, assuming the attitude of a + Semiramis. “You have been squeezed dry enough already. Now, as sure as my + name is Saint-Esteve—in the way of business, of course—I will + stand by you.” + </p> + <p> + “Goot, I shall repay you.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, my boy, for I have shown you that I know how to be + revenged. Besides, I tell you this, daddy, I know how to snuff out your + Madame Esther as you would snuff a candle. And I know my lady! When the + little huzzy has once made you happy, she will be even more necessary to + you than she is at this moment. You paid me well; you have allowed + yourself to be fooled, but, after all, you have forked out.—I have + fulfilled my part of the agreement, haven’t I? Well, look here, I will + make a bargain with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me hear.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall get me the place as cook to Madame, engage me for ten years, + and pay the last five in advance—what is that? Just a little + earnest-money. When once I am about madame, I can bring her to these + terms. Of course, you must first order her a lovely dress from Madame + Auguste, who knows her style and taste; and order the new carriage to be + at the door at four o’clock. After the Bourse closes, go to her rooms and + take her for a little drive in the Bois de Boulogne. Well, by that act the + woman proclaims herself your mistress; she has advertised herself to the + eyes and knowledge of all Paris: A hundred thousand francs.—You must + dine with her—I know how to cook such a dinner!—You must take + her to the play, to the Varietes, to a stage-box, and then all Paris will + say, ‘There is that old rascal Nucingen with his mistress.’ It is very + flattering to know that such things are said.—Well, all this, for I + am not grasping, is included for the first hundred thousand francs.—In + a week, by such conduct, you will have made some way——” + </p> + <p> + “But I shall hafe paid ein hundert tousant franc.” + </p> + <p> + “In the course of the second week,” Asie went on, as though she had not + heard this lamentable ejaculation, “madame, tempted by these + preliminaries, will have made up her mind to leave her little apartment + and move to the house you are giving her. Your Esther will have seen the + world again, have found her old friends; she will wish to shine and do the + honors of her palace—it is in the nature of things: Another hundred + thousand francs!—By Heaven! you are at home there, Esther + compromised—she must be yours. The rest is a mere trifle, in which + you must play the principal part, old elephant. (How wide the monster + opens his eyes!) Well, I will undertake that too: Four hundred thousand—and + that, my fine fellow, you need not pay till the day after. What do you + think of that for honesty? I have more confidence in you than you have in + me. If I persuade madame to show herself as your mistress, to compromise + herself, to take every gift you offer her,—perhaps this very day, + you will believe that I am capable of inducing her to throw open the pass + of the Great Saint Bernard. And it is a hard job, I can tell you; it will + take as much pulling to get your artillery through as it took the first + Consul to get over the Alps.” + </p> + <p> + “But vy?” + </p> + <p> + “Her heart is full of love, old shaver, rasibus, as you say who know + Latin,” replied Asie. “She thinks herself the Queen of Sheba, because she + has washed herself in sacrifices made for her lover—an idea that + that sort of woman gets into her head! Well, well, old fellow, we must be + just.—It is fine! That baggage would die of grief at being your + mistress—I really should not wonder. But what I trust to, and I tell + you to give you courage, is that there is good in the girl at bottom.” + </p> + <p> + “You hafe a genius for corruption,” said the Baron, who had listened to + Asie in admiring silence, “just as I hafe de knack of de banking.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is settled, my pigeon?” said Asie. + </p> + <p> + “Done for fifty tousant franc insteat of ein hundert tousant!—An’ I + shall give you fife hundert tousant de day after my triumph.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, I will set to work,” said Asie. “And you may come, monsieur,” + she added respectfully. “You will find madame as soft already as a cat’s + back, and perhaps inclined to make herself pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, go, my goot voman,” said the banker, rubbing his hands. + </p> + <p> + And after seeing the horrible mulatto out of the house, he said to + himself: + </p> + <p> + “How vise it is to hafe much money.” + </p> + <p> + He sprang out of bed, went down to his office, and resumed the conduct of + his immense business with a light heart. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could be more fatal to Esther than the steps taken by Nucingen. + The hapless girl, in defending her fidelity, was defending her life. This + very natural instinct was what Carlos called prudery. Now Asie, not + without taking such precautions as usual in such cases, went off to report + to Carlos the conference she had held with the Baron, and all the profit + she had made by it. The man’s rage, like himself, was terrible; he came + forthwith to Esther, in a carriage with the blinds drawn, driving into the + courtyard. Still almost white with fury, the double-dyed forger went + straight into the poor girl’s room; she looked at him—she was + standing up—and she dropped on to a chair as though her legs had + snapped. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, monsieur?” said she, quaking in every limb. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us, Europe,” said he to the maid. + </p> + <p> + Esther looked at the woman as a child might look at its mother, from whom + some assassin had snatched it to murder it. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where you will send Lucien?” Carlos went on when he was alone + with Esther. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” asked she in a low voice, venturing to glance at her executioner. + </p> + <p> + “Where I come from, my beauty.” Esther, as she looked at the man, saw red. + “To the hulks,” he added in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + Esther shut her eyes and stretched herself out, her arms dropped, and she + turned white. The man rang, and Prudence appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Bring her round,” he said coldly; “I have not done.” + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down the drawing-room while waiting. Prudence-Europe was + obliged to come and beg monsieur to lift Esther on to the bed; he carried + her with the ease that betrayed athletic strength. + </p> + <p> + They had to procure all the chemist’s strongest stimulants to restore + Esther to a sense of her woes. An hour later the poor girl was able to + listen to this living nightmare, seated at the foot of her bed, his eyes + fixed and glowing like two spots of molten lead. + </p> + <p> + “My little sweetheart,” said he, “Lucien now stands between a splendid + life, honored, happy, and respected, and the hole full of water, mud, and + gravel into which he was going to plunge when I met him. The house of + Grandlieu requires of the dear boy an estate worth a million francs before + securing for him the title of Marquis, and handing over to him that + may-pole named Clotilde, by whose help he will rise to power. Thanks to + you, and me, Lucien has just purchased his maternal manor, the old Chateau + de Rubempre, which, indeed, did not cost much—thirty thousand + francs; but his lawyer, by clever negotiations, has succeeded in adding to + it estates worth a million, on which three hundred thousand francs are + paid. The chateau, the expenses, and percentages to the men who were put + forward as a blind to conceal the transaction from the country people, + have swallowed up the remainder. + </p> + <p> + “We have, to be sure, a hundred thousand francs invested in a business + here, which a few months hence will be worth two to three hundred thousand + francs; but there will still be four hundred thousand francs to be paid. + </p> + <p> + “In three days Lucien will be home from Angouleme, where he has been, + because he must not be suspected of having found a fortune in remaking + your bed——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no!” cried she, looking up with a noble impulse. + </p> + <p> + “I ask you, then, is this a moment to scare off the Baron?” he went on + calmly. “And you very nearly killed him the day before yesterday; he + fainted like a woman on reading your second letter. You have a fine style—I + congratulate you! If the Baron had died, where should we be now?—When + Lucien walks out of Saint-Thomas d’Aquin son-in-law to the Duc de + Grandlieu, if you want to try a dip in the Seine——Well, my + beauty, I offer you my hand for a dive together. It is one way of ending + matters. + </p> + <p> + “But consider a moment. Would it not be better to live and say to yourself + again and again ‘This fine fortune, this happy family’—for he will + have children—children!—Have you ever thought of the joy of + running your fingers through the hair of his children?” + </p> + <p> + Esther closed her eyes with a little shiver. + </p> + <p> + “Well, as you gaze on that structure of happiness, you may say to + yourself, ‘This is my doing!’” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, and the two looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “This is what I have tried to make out of such despair as saw no issue but + the river,” said Carlos. “Am I selfish? That is the way to love! Men show + such devotion to none but kings! But I have anointed Lucien king. If I + were riveted for the rest of my days to my old chain, I fancy I could stay + there resigned so long as I could say, ‘He is gay, he is at Court.’ My + soul and mind would triumph, while my carcase was given over to the + jailers! You are a mere female; you love like a female! But in a + courtesan, as in all degraded creatures, love should be a means to + motherhood, in spite of Nature, which has stricken you with barrenness! + </p> + <p> + “If ever, under the skin of the Abbe Carlos Herrera, any one were to + detect the convict I have been, do you know what I would do to avoid + compromising Lucien?” + </p> + <p> + Esther awaited the reply with some anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said after a brief pause, “I would die as the Negroes do—without + a word. And you, with all your airs will put folks on my traces. What did + I require of you?—To be La Torpille again for six months—for + six weeks; and to do it to clutch a million. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien will never forget you. Men do not forget the being of whom they + are reminded day after day by the joy of awaking rich every morning. + Lucien is a better fellow than you are. He began by loving Coralie. She + died—good; but he had not enough money to bury her; he did not do as + you did just now, he did not faint, though he is a poet; he wrote six + rollicking songs, and earned three hundred francs, with which he paid for + Coralie’s funeral. I have those songs; I know them by heart. Well, then do + you too compose your songs: be cheerful, be wild, be irresistible and—insatiable! + You hear me?—Do not let me have to speak again. + </p> + <p> + “Kiss papa. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + When, half an hour after, Europe went into her mistress’ room, she found + her kneeling in front of a crucifix, in the attitude which the most + religious of painters has given to Moses before the burning bush on Horeb, + to depict his deep and complete adoration of Jehovah. After saying her + prayers, Esther had renounced her better life, the honor she had created + for herself, her glory, her virtue, and her love. + </p> + <p> + She rose. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, madame, you will never look like that again!” cried Prudence Servien, + struck by her mistress’ sublime beauty. + </p> + <p> + She hastily turned the long mirror so that the poor girl should see + herself. Her eyes still had a light as of the soul flying heavenward. The + Jewess’ complexion was brilliant. Sparkling with tears unshed in the + fervor of prayer, her eyelashes were like leaves after a summer shower, + for the last time they shone with the sunshine of pure love. Her lips + seemed to preserve an expression as of her last appeal to the angels, + whose palm of martyrdom she had no doubt borrowed while placing in their + hands her past unspotted life. And she had the majesty which Mary Stuart + must have shown at the moment when she bid adieu to her crown, to earth, + and to love. + </p> + <p> + “I wish Lucien could have seen me thus!” she said with a smothered sigh. + “Now,” she added, in a strident tone, “now for a fling!” + </p> + <p> + Europe stood dumb at hearing the words, as though she had heard an angel + blaspheme. + </p> + <p> + “Well, why need you stare at me to see if I have cloves in my mouth + instead of teeth? I am nothing henceforth but a vile, foul creature, a + thief—and I expect milord. So get me a hot bath, and put my dress + out. It is twelve o’clock; the Baron will look in, no doubt, when the + Bourse closes; I shall tell him I was waiting for him, and Asie is to + prepare us dinner, first-chop, mind you; I mean to turn the man’s brain.—Come, + hurry, hurry, my girl; we are going to have some fun—that is to say, + we must go to work.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down at the table and wrote the following note:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MY FRIEND,—If the cook you have sent me had not already been in + my service, I might have thought that your purpose was to let me + know how often you had fainted yesterday on receiving my three + notes. (What can I say? I was very nervous that day; I was + thinking over the memories of my miserable existence.) But I know + how sincere Asie is. Still, I cannot repent of having caused you + so much pain, since it has availed to prove to me how much you + love me. This is how we are made, we luckless and despised + creatures; true affection touches us far more deeply than finding + ourselves the objects of lavish liberality. For my part, I have + always rather dreaded being a peg on which you would hang your + vanities. It annoyed me to be nothing else to you. Yes, in spite + of all your protestations, I fancied you regarded me merely as a + woman paid for. + + “Well, you will now find me a good girl, but on condition of your + always obeying me a little. + + “If this letter can in any way take the place of the doctor’s + prescription, prove it by coming to see me after the Bourse + closes. You will find me in full fig, dressed in your gifts, for I + am for life your pleasure-machine, + + “ESTHER.” + </pre> + <p> + At the Bourse the Baron de Nucingen was so gay, so cheerful, seemed so + easy-going, and allowed himself so many jests, that du Tillet and the + Kellers, who were on ‘change, could not help asking him the reason of his + high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “I am belofed. Ve shall soon gife dat house-varming,” he told du Tillet. + </p> + <p> + “And how much does it cost you?” asked Francois Keller rudely—it was + said that he had spent twenty-five thousand francs a year on Madame + Colleville. + </p> + <p> + “Dat voman is an anchel! She never has ask’ me for one sou.” + </p> + <p> + “They never do,” replied du Tillet. “And it is to avoid asking that they + have always aunts or mothers.” + </p> + <p> + Between the Bourse and the Rue Taitbout seven times did the Baron say to + his servant: + </p> + <p> + “You go so slow—vip de horse!” + </p> + <p> + He ran lightly upstairs, and for the first time he saw his mistress in all + the beauty of such women, who have no other occupation than the care of + their person and their dress. Just out of her bath the flower was quite + fresh, and perfumed so as to inspire desire in Robert d’Arbrissel. + </p> + <p> + Esther was in a charming toilette. A dress of black corded silk trimmed + with rose-colored gimp opened over a petticoat of gray satin, the costume + subsequently worn by Amigo, the handsome singer, in <i>I Puritani</i>. A + Honiton lace kerchief fell or floated over her shoulders. The sleeves of + her gown were strapped round with cording to divide the puffs, which for + some little time fashion has substituted for the large sleeves which had + grown too monstrous. Esther had fastened a Mechlin lace cap on her + magnificent hair with a pin, <i>a la folle</i>, as it is called, ready to + fall, but not really falling, giving her an appearance of being tumbled + and in disorder, though the white parting showed plainly on her little + head between the waves of her hair. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not a shame to see madame so lovely in a shabby drawing-room like + this?” said Europe to the Baron, as she admitted him. + </p> + <p> + “Vel, den, come to the Rue Saint-Georches,” said the Baron, coming to a + full stop like a dog marking a partridge. “The veather is splendit, ve + shall drife to the Champs Elysees, and Montame Saint-Estefe and Eugenie + shall carry dere all your clo’es an’ your linen, an’ ve shall dine in de + Rue Saint-Georches.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do whatever you please,” said Esther, “if only you will be so kind + as to call my cook Asie, and Eugenie Europe. I have given those names to + all the women who have served me ever since the first two. I do not love + change——” + </p> + <p> + “Asie, Europe!” echoed the Baron, laughing. “How ver’ droll you are.—You + hafe infentions.—I should hafe eaten many dinners before I should + hafe call’ a cook Asie.” + </p> + <p> + “It is our business to be droll,” said Esther. “Come, now, may not a poor + girl be fed by Asia and dressed by Europe when you live on the whole + world? It is a myth, I say; some women would devour the earth, I only ask + for half.—You see?” + </p> + <p> + “Vat a voman is Montame Saint-Estefe!” said the Baron to himself as he + admired Esther’s changed demeanor. + </p> + <p> + “Europe, my girl, I want my bonnet,” said Esther. “I must have a black + silk bonnet lined with pink and trimmed with lace.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Thomas has not sent it home.—Come, Monsieur le Baron; quick, + off you go! Begin your functions as a man-of-all-work—that is to + say, of all pleasure! Happiness is burdensome. You have your carriage + here, go to Madame Thomas,” said Europe to the Baron. “Make your servant + ask for the bonnet for Madame van Bogseck.—And, above all,” she + added in his ear, “bring her the most beautiful bouquet to be had in + Paris. It is winter, so try to get tropical flowers.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron went downstairs and told his servants to go to “Montame Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + The coachman drove to a famous pastrycook’s. + </p> + <p> + “She is a milliner, you damn’ idiot, and not a cake-shop!” cried the + Baron, who rushed off to Madame Prevot’s in the Palais-Royal, where he had + a bouquet made up for the price of ten louis, while his man went to the + great modiste. + </p> + <p> + A superficial observer, walking about Paris, wonders who the fools can be + that buy the fabulous flowers that grace the illustrious bouquetiere’s + shop window, and the choice products displayed by Chevet of European fame—the + only purveyor who can vie with the <i>Rocher de Cancale</i> in a real and + delicious <i>Revue des deux Mondes</i>. + </p> + <p> + Well, every day in Paris a hundred or more passions a la Nucingen come + into being, and find expression in offering such rarities as queens dare + not purchase, presented, kneeling, to baggages who, to use Asie’s word, + like to cut a dash. But for these little details, a decent citizen would + be puzzled to conceive how a fortune melts in the hands of these women, + whose social function, in Fourier’s scheme, is perhaps to rectify the + disasters caused by avarice and cupidity. Such squandering is, no doubt, + to the social body what a prick of the lancet is to a plethoric subject. + In two months Nucingen had shed broadcast on trade more than two hundred + thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + By the time the old lover returned, darkness was falling; the bouquet was + no longer of any use. The hour for driving in the Champs-Elysees in winter + is between two and four. However, the carriage was of use to convey Esther + from the Rue Taitbout to the Rue Saint-Georges, where she took possession + of the “little palace.” Never before had Esther been the object of such + worship or such lavishness, and it amazed her; but, like all royal + ingrates, she took care to express no surprise. + </p> + <p> + When you go into St. Peter’s at Rome, to enable you to appreciate the + extent and height of this queen of cathedrals, you are shown the little + finger of a statue which looks of a natural size, and which measures I + know not how much. Descriptions have been so severely criticised, + necessary as they are to a history of manners, that I must here follow the + example of the Roman Cicerone. As they entered the dining-room, the Baron + could not resist asking Esther to feel the stuff of which the window + curtains were made, draped with magnificent fulness, lined with white + watered silk, and bordered with a gimp fit to trim a Portuguese princess’ + bodice. The material was silk brought from Canton, on which Chinese + patience had painted Oriental birds with a perfection only to be seen in + mediaeval illuminations, or in the Missal of Charles V., the pride of the + Imperial library at Vienna. + </p> + <p> + “It hafe cost two tousand franc’ an ell for a milord who brought it from + Intia——” + </p> + <p> + “It is very nice, charming,” said Esther. “How I shall enjoy drinking + champagne here; the froth will not get dirty here on a bare floor.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! madame!” cried Europe, “only look at the carpet!” + </p> + <p> + “Dis carpet hafe been made for de Duc de Torlonia, a frient of mine, who + fount it too dear, so I took it for you who are my qveen,” said Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + By chance this carpet, by one of our cleverest designers, matched with the + whimsicalities of the Chinese curtains. The walls, painted by Schinner and + Leon de Lora, represented voluptuous scenes, in carved ebony frames, + purchased for their weight in gold from Dusommerard, and forming panels + with a narrow line of gold that coyly caught the light. + </p> + <p> + From this you may judge of the rest. + </p> + <p> + “You did well to bring me here,” said Esther. “It will take me a week to + get used to my home and not to look like a parvenu in it——” + </p> + <p> + “<i>My</i> home! Den you shall accept it?” cried the Baron in glee. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, and a thousand times of course, stupid animal,” said she, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Animal vas enough——” + </p> + <p> + “Stupid is a term of endearment,” said she, looking at him. + </p> + <p> + The poor man took Esther’s hand and pressed it to his heart. He was animal + enough to feel, but too stupid to find words. + </p> + <p> + “Feel how it beats—for ein little tender vort——” + </p> + <p> + And he conducted his goddess to her room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, madame, I cannot stay here!” cried Eugenie. “It makes me long to go + to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Esther, “I mean to please the magician who has worked all + these wonders.—Listen, my fat elephant, after dinner we will go to + the play together. I am starving to see a play.” + </p> + <p> + It was just five years since Esther had been to a theatre. All Paris was + rushing at that time to the Porte-Saint-Martin, to see one of those pieces + to which the power of the actors lends a terrible expression of reality, + <i>Richard Darlington</i>. Like all ingenuous natures, Esther loved to + feel the thrills of fear as much as to yield to tears of pathos. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to see Frederick Lemaitre,” said she; “he is an actor I adore.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a horrible piece,” said Nucingen foreseeing the moment when he must + show himself in public. + </p> + <p> + He sent his servant to secure one of the two stage-boxes on the grand + tier.—And this is another strange feature of Paris. Whenever + success, on feet of clay, fills a house, there is always a stage-box to be + had ten minutes before the curtain rises. The managers keep it for + themselves, unless it happens to be taken for a passion a la Nucingen. + This box, like Chevet’s dainties, is a tax levied on the whims of the + Parisian Olympus. + </p> + <p> + It would be superfluous to describe the plate and china. Nucingen had + provided three services of plate—common, medium, and best; and the + best—plates, dishes, and all, was of chased silver gilt. The banker, + to avoid overloading the table with gold and silver, had completed the + array of each service with porcelain of exquisite fragility in the style + of Dresden china, which had cost more than the plate. As to the linen—Saxony, + England, Flanders, and France vied in the perfection of flowered damask. + </p> + <p> + At dinner it was the Baron’s turn to be amazed on tasting Asie’s cookery. + </p> + <p> + “I understant,” said he, “vy you call her Asie; dis is Asiatic cooking.” + </p> + <p> + “I begin to think he loves me,” said Esther to Europe; “he has said + something almost like a <i>bon mot</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “I said many vorts,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Well! he is more like Turcaret than I had heard he was!” cried the girl, + laughing at this reply, worthy of the many artless speeches for which the + banker was famous. + </p> + <p> + The dishes were so highly spiced as to give the Baron an indigestion, on + purpose that he might go home early; so this was all he got in the way of + pleasure out of his first evening with Esther. At the theatre he was + obliged to drink an immense number of glasses of eau sucree, leaving + Esther alone between the acts. + </p> + <p> + By a coincidence so probable that it can scarcely be called chance, + Tullia, Mariette, and Madame du Val-Noble were at the play that evening. + <i>Richard Darlington</i> enjoyed a wild success—and a deserved + success—such as is seen only in Paris. The men who saw this play all + came to the conclusion that a lawful wife might be thrown out of window, + and the wives loved to see themselves unjustly persecuted. + </p> + <p> + The women said to each other: “This is too much! we are driven to it—but + it often happens!” + </p> + <p> + Now a woman as beautiful as Esther, and dressed as Esther was, could not + show off with impunity in a stage-box at the Porte-Saint-Martin. And so, + during the second act, there was quite a commotion in the box where the + two dancers were sitting, caused by the undoubted identity of the unknown + fair one with La Torpille. + </p> + <p> + “Heyday! where has she dropped from?” said Mariette to Madame du + Val-Noble. “I thought she was drowned.” + </p> + <p> + “But is it she? She looks to me thirty-seven times younger and handsomer + than she was six years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she has preserved herself in ice like Madame d’Espard and Madame + Zayonchek,” said the Comte de Brambourg, who had brought the three women + to the play, to a pit-tier box. “Isn’t she the ‘rat’ you meant to send me + to hocus my uncle?” said he, addressing Tullia. + </p> + <p> + “The very same,” said the singer. “Du Bruel, go down to the stalls and see + if it is she.” + </p> + <p> + “What brass she has got!” exclaimed Madame du Val-Noble, using an + expressive but vulgar phrase. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the Comte de Brambourg, “she very well may. She is with my + friend the Baron de Nucingen—I will go——” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the immaculate Joan of Arc who has taken Nucingen by storm, and + who has been talked of till we are all sick of her, these three months + past?” asked Mariette. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, my dear Baron,” said Philippe Bridau, as he went into + Nucingen’s box. “So here you are, married to Mademoiselle Esther.—Mademoiselle, + I am an old officer whom you once on a time were to have got out of a + scrape—at Issoudun—Philippe Bridau——” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing of it,” said Esther, looking round the house through her + opera-glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Dis lady,” said the Baron, “is no longer known as ‘Esther’ so short! She + is called Montame de Champy—ein little estate vat I have bought for + her——” + </p> + <p> + “Though you do things in such style,” said the Comte, “these ladies are + saying that Madame de Champy gives herself too great airs.—If you do + not choose to remember me, will you condescend to recognize Mariette, + Tullia, Madame du Val-Noble?” the parvenu went on—a man for whom the + Duc de Maufrigneuse had won the Dauphin’s favor. + </p> + <p> + “If these ladies are kind to me, I am willing to make myself pleasant to + them,” replied Madame de Champy drily. + </p> + <p> + “Kind! Why, they are excellent; they have named you Joan of Arc,” replied + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Vell den, if dese ladies vill keep you company,” said Nucingen, “I shall + go ‘vay, for I hafe eaten too much. Your carriage shall come for you and + your people.—Dat teufel Asie!” + </p> + <p> + “The first time, and you leave me alone!” said Esther. “Come, come, you + must have courage enough to die on deck. I must have my man with me as I + go out. If I were insulted, am I to cry out for nothing?” + </p> + <p> + The old millionaire’s selfishness had to give way to his duties as a + lover. The Baron suffered but stayed. + </p> + <p> + Esther had her own reasons for detaining “her man.” If she admitted her + acquaintance, she would be less closely questioned in his presence than if + she were alone. Philippe Bridau hurried back to the box where the dancers + were sitting, and informed them of the state of affairs. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! so it is she who has fallen heir to my house in the Rue + Saint-Georges,” observed Madame du Val-Noble with some bitterness; for + she, as she phrased it, was on the loose. + </p> + <p> + “Most likely,” said the Colonel. “Du Tillet told me that the Baron had + spent three times as much there as your poor Falleix.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go round to her box,” said Tullia. + </p> + <p> + “Not if I know it,” said Mariette; “she is much too handsome, I will call + on her at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I think myself good-looking enough to risk it,” remarked Tullia. + </p> + <p> + So the much-daring leading dancer went round between the acts and renewed + acquaintance with Esther, who would talk only on general subjects. + </p> + <p> + “And where have you come back from, my dear child?” asked Tullia, who + could not restrain her curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was for five years in a castle in the Alps with an Englishman, as + jealous as a tiger, a nabob; I called him a nabot, a dwarf, for he was not + so big as le bailli de Ferrette. + </p> + <p> + “And then I came across a banker—from a savage to salvation, as + Florine might say. And now here I am in Paris again; I long so for + amusement that I mean to have a rare time. I shall keep open house. I have + five years of solitary confinement to make good, and I am beginning to do + it. Five years of an Englishman is rather too much; six weeks are the + allowance according to the advertisements.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it the Baron who gave you that lace?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is a relic of the nabob.—What ill-luck I have, my dear! He + was as yellow as a friend’s smile at a success; I thought he would be dead + in ten months. Pooh! he was a strong as a mountain. Always distrust men + who say they have a liver complaint. I will never listen to a man who + talks of his liver.—I have had too much of livers—who cannot + die. My nabob robbed me; he died without making a will, and the family + turned me out of doors like a leper.—So, then, I said to my fat + friend here, ‘Pay for two!’—You may as well call me Joan of Arc; I + have ruined England, and perhaps I shall die at the stake——” + </p> + <p> + “Of love?” said Tullia. + </p> + <p> + “And burnt alive,” answered Esther, and the question made her thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + The Baron laughed at all this vulgar nonsense, but he did not always + follow it readily, so that his laughter sounded like the forgotten + crackers that go off after fireworks. + </p> + <p> + We all live in a sphere of some kind, and the inhabitants of every sphere + are endowed with an equal share of curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Next evening at the opera, Esther’s reappearance was the great news behind + the scenes. Between two and four in the afternoon all Paris in the + Champs-Elysees had recognized La Torpille, and knew at last who was the + object of the Baron de Nucingen’s passion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” Blondet remarked to de Marsay in the greenroom at the + opera-house, “that La Torpille vanished the very day after the evening + when we saw her here and recognized her in little Rubempre’s mistress.” + </p> + <p> + In Paris, as in the provinces, everything is known. The police of the Rue + de Jerusalem are not so efficient as the world itself, for every one is a + spy on every one else, though unconsciously. Carlos had fully understood + the danger of Lucien’s position during and after the episode of the Rue + Taitbout. + </p> + <p> + No position can be more dreadful than that in which Madame du Val-Noble + now found herself; and the phrase to be on the loose, or, as the French + say, left on foot, expresses it perfectly. The recklessness and + extravagance of these women precludes all care for the future. In that + strange world, far more witty and amusing than might be supposed, only + such women as are not gifted with that perfect beauty which time can + hardly impair, and which is quite unmistakable—only such women, in + short, as can be loved merely as a fancy, ever think of old age and save a + fortune. The handsomer they are, the more improvident they are. + </p> + <p> + “Are you afraid of growing ugly that you are saving money?” was a speech + of Florine’s to Mariette, which may give a clue to one cause of this + thriftlessness. + </p> + <p> + Thus, if a speculator kills himself, or a spendthrift comes to the end of + his resources, these women fall with hideous promptitude from audacious + wealth to the utmost misery. They throw themselves into the clutches of + the old-clothes buyer, and sell exquisite jewels for a mere song; they run + into debt, expressly to keep up a spurious luxury, in the hope of + recovering what they have lost—a cash-box to draw upon. These ups + and downs of their career account for the costliness of such connections, + generally brought about as Asie had hooked (another word of her + vocabulary) Nucingen for Esther. + </p> + <p> + And so those who know their Paris are quite aware of the state of affairs + when, in the Champs-Elysees—that bustling and mongrel bazaar—they + meet some woman in a hired fly whom six months or a year before they had + seen in a magnificent and dazzling carriage, turned out in the most + luxurious style. + </p> + <p> + “If you fall on Sainte-Pelagie, you must contrive to rebound on the Bois + de Boulogne,” said Florine, laughing with Blondet over the little Vicomte + de Portenduere. + </p> + <p> + Some clever women never run the risk of this contrast. They bury + themselves in horrible furnished lodgings, where they expiate their + extravagance by such privations as are endured by travelers lost in a + Sahara; but they never take the smallest fancy for economy. They venture + forth to masked balls; they take journeys into the provinces; they turn + out well dressed on the boulevards when the weather is fine. And then they + find in each other the devoted kindness which is known only among + proscribed races. It costs a woman in luck no effort to bestow some help, + for she says to herself, “I may be in the same plight by Sunday!” + </p> + <p> + However, the most efficient protector still is the purchaser of dress. + When this greedy money-lender finds herself the creditor, she stirs and + works on the hearts of all the old men she knows in favor of the mortgaged + creature in thin boots and a fine bonnet. + </p> + <p> + In this way Madame du Val-Noble, unable to foresee the downfall of one of + the richest and cleverest of stockbrokers, was left quite unprepared. She + had spent Falleix’s money on her whims, and trusted to him for all + necessaries and to provide for the future. + </p> + <p> + “How could I have expected such a thing in a man who seemed such a good + fellow?” + </p> + <p> + In almost every class of society the good fellow is an open-handed man, + who will lend a few crowns now and again without expecting them back, who + always behaves in accordance with a certain code of delicate feeling above + mere vulgar, obligatory, and commonplace morality. Certain men, regarded + as virtuous and honest, have, like Nucingen, ruined their benefactors; and + certain others, who have been through a criminal court, have an ingenious + kind of honesty towards women. Perfect virtue, the dream of Moliere, an + Alceste, is exceedingly rare; still, it is to be found everywhere, even in + Paris. The “good fellow” is the product of a certain facility of nature + which proves nothing. A man is a good fellow, as a cat is silky, as a + slipper is made to slip on to the foot. And so, in the meaning given to + the word by a kept woman, Falleix ought to have warned his mistress of his + approaching bankruptcy and have given her enough to live upon. + </p> + <p> + D’Estourny, the dashing swindler, was a good fellow; he cheated at cards, + but he had set aside thirty thousand francs for his mistress. And at + carnival suppers women would retort on his accusers: “No matter. You may + say what you like, Georges was a good fellow; he had charming manners, he + deserved a better fate.” + </p> + <p> + These girls laugh laws to scorn, and adore a certain kind of generosity; + they sell themselves, as Esther had done, for a secret ideal, which is + their religion. + </p> + <p> + After saving a few jewels from the wreck with great difficulty, Madame du + Val-Noble was crushed under the burden of the horrible report: “She ruined + Falleix.” She was almost thirty; and though she was in the prime of her + beauty, still she might be called an old woman, and all the more so + because in such a crisis all a woman’s rivals are against her. Mariette, + Florine, Tullia would ask their friend to dinner, and gave her some help; + but as they did not know the extent of her debts, they did not dare to + sound the depths of that gulf. An interval of six years formed rather too + long a gap in the ebb and flow of the Paris tide, between La Torpille and + Madame du Val-Noble, for the woman “on foot” to speak to the woman in her + carriage; but La Val-Noble knew that Esther was too generous not to + remember sometimes that she had, as she said, fallen heir to her + possessions, and not to seek her out by some meeting which might seem + accidental though arranged. To bring about such an accident, Madame du + Val-Noble, dressed in the most lady-like way, walked out every day in the + Champs-Elysees on the arm of Theodore Gaillard, who afterwards married + her, and who, in these straits, behaved very well to his former mistress, + giving her boxes at the play, and inviting her to every spree. She + flattered herself that Esther, driving out one fine day, would meet her + face to face. + </p> + <p> + Esther’s coachman was Paccard—for her household had been made up in + five days by Asie, Europe, and Paccard under Carlos’ instructions, and in + such a way that the house in the Rue Saint-Georges was an impregnable + fortress. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, on his part, prompted by deep hatred, by the thirst for + vengeance, and, above all, by his wish to see his darling Lydie married, + made the Champs-Elysees the end of his walks as soon as he heard from + Contenson that Monsieur de Nucingen’s mistress might be seen there. + Peyrade could dress so exactly like an Englishman, and spoke French so + perfectly with the mincing accent that the English give the language; he + knew England itself so well, and was so familiar with all the customs of + the country, having been sent to England by the police authorities three + times between 1779 and 1786, that he could play his part in London and at + ambassadors’ residences without awaking suspicion. Peyrade, who had some + resemblance to Musson the famous juggler, could disguise himself so + effectually that once Contenson did not recognize him. + </p> + <p> + Followed by Contenson dressed as a mulatto, Peyrade examined Esther and + her servants with an eye which, seeming heedless, took everything in. + Hence it quite naturally happened that in the side alley where the + carriage-company walk in fine dry weather, he was on the spot one day when + Esther met Madame du Val-Noble. Peyrade, his mulatto in livery at his + heels, was airing himself quite naturally, like a nabob who is thinking of + no one but himself, in a line with the two women, so as to catch a few + words of their conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear child,” said Esther to Madame du Val-Noble, “come and see + me. Nucingen owes it to himself not to leave his stockbroker’s mistress + without a sou——” + </p> + <p> + “All the more so because it is said that he ruined Falleix,” remarked + Theodore Gaillard, “and that we have every right to squeeze him.” + </p> + <p> + “He dines with me to-morrow,” said Esther; “come and meet him.” Then she + added in an undertone: + </p> + <p> + “I can do what I like with him, and as yet he has not that!” and she put + the nail of a gloved finger under the prettiest of her teeth with the + click that is familiarly known to express with peculiar energy: “Just + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “You have him safe——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, as yet he has only paid my debts.” + </p> + <p> + “How mean!” cried Suzanne du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Esther, “I had debts enough to frighten a minister of finance. + Now, I mean to have thirty thousand a year before the first stroke of + midnight. Oh! he is excellent, I have nothing to complain of. He does it + well.—In a week we give a house-warming; you must come.—That + morning he is to make me a present of the lease of the house in the Rue + Saint-Georges. In decency, it is impossible to live in such a house on + less than thirty thousand francs a year—of my own, so as to have + them safe in case of accident. I have known poverty, and I want no more of + it. There are certain acquaintances one has had enough of at once.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, who used to say, ‘My face is my fortune!’—How you have + changed!” exclaimed Suzanne. + </p> + <p> + “It is the air of Switzerland; you grow thrifty there.—Look here; go + there yourself, my dear! Catch a Swiss, and you may perhaps catch a + husband, for they have not yet learned what such women as we are can be. + And, at any rate, you may come back with a passion for investments in the + funds—a most respectable and elegant passion!—Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Esther got into her carriage again, a handsome carriage drawn by the + finest pair of dappled gray horses at that time to be seen in Paris. + </p> + <p> + “The woman who is getting into the carriage is handsome,” said Peyrade to + Contenson, “but I like the one who is walking best; follow her, and find + out who she is.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what that Englishman has just remarked in English,” said Theodore + Gaillard, repeating Peyrade’s remark to Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + Before making this speech in English, Peyrade had uttered a word or two in + that language, which had made Theodore look up in a way that convinced him + that the journalist understood English. + </p> + <p> + Madame du Val-Noble very slowly made her way home to very decent furnished + rooms in the Rue Louis-le-Grand, glancing round now and then to see if the + mulatto were following her. + </p> + <p> + This establishment was kept by a certain Madame Gerard, whom Suzanne had + obliged in the days of her splendor, and who showed her gratitude by + giving her a suitable home. This good soul, an honest and virtuous + citizen, even pious, looked on the courtesan as a woman of a superior + order; she had always seen her in the midst of luxury, and thought of her + as a fallen queen; she trusted her daughters with her; and—which is + a fact more natural than might be supposed—the courtesan was as + scrupulously careful in taking them to the play as their mother could have + been, and the two Gerard girls loved her. The worthy, kind lodging-house + keeper was like those sublime priests who see in these outlawed women only + a creature to be saved and loved. + </p> + <p> + Madame du Val-Noble respected this worth; and often, as she chatted with + the good woman, she envied her while bewailing her own ill-fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Your are still handsome; you may make a good end yet,” Madame Gerard + would say. + </p> + <p> + But, indeed, Madame du Val-Noble was only relatively impoverished. This + woman’s wardrobe, so extravagant and elegant, was still sufficiently well + furnished to allow of her appearing on occasion—as on that evening + at the Porte-Saint-Martin to see <i>Richard Darlington</i>—in much + splendor. And Madame Gerard would most good-naturedly pay for the cabs + needed by the lady “on foot” to go out to dine, or to the play, and to + come home again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dear Madame Gerard,” said she to this worthy mother, “my luck is + about to change, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, madame, so much the better. But be prudent; do not run into + debt any more. I have such difficulty in getting rid of the people who are + hunting for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never worry yourself about those hounds! They have all made no end of + money out of me.—Here are some tickets for the Varietes for your + girls—a good box on the second tier. If any one should ask for me + this evening before I come in, show them up all the same. Adele, my old + maid, will be here; I will send her round.” + </p> + <p> + Madame du Val-Noble, having neither mother nor aunt, was obliged to have + recourse to her maid—equally on foot—to play the part of a + Saint-Esteve with the unknown follower whose conquest was to enable her to + rise again in the world. She went to dine with Theodore Gaillard, who, as + it happened, had a spree on that day, that is to say, a dinner given by + Nathan in payment of a bet he had lost, one of those orgies when a man + says to his guests, “You can bring a woman.” + </p> + <p> + It was not without strong reasons that Peyrade had made up his mind to + rush in person on to the field of this intrigue. At the same time, his + curiosity, like Corentin’s, was so keenly excited, that, even in the + absence of reasons, he would have tried to play a part in the drama. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Charles X.‘s policy had completed its last evolution. After + confiding the helm of State to Ministers of his own choosing, the King was + preparing to conquer Algiers, and to utilize the glory that should accrue + as a passport to what has been called his <i>Coup d’Etat</i>. There were + no more conspiracies at home; Charles X. believed he had no domestic + enemies. But in politics, as at sea, a calm may be deceptive. + </p> + <p> + Thus Corentin had lapsed into total idleness. In such a case a true + sportsman, to keep his hand in, for lack of larks kills sparrows. + Domitian, we know, for lack of Christians, killed flies. Contenson, having + witnessed Esther’s arrest, had, with the keen instinct of a spy, fully + understood the upshot of the business. The rascal, as we have seen, did + not attempt to conceal his opinion of the Baron de Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “Who is benefiting by making the banker pay so dear for his passion?” was + the first question the allies asked each other. Recognizing Asie as a + leader in the piece, Contenson hoped to find out the author through her; + but she slipped through his fingers again and again, hiding like an eel in + the mud of Paris; and when he found her again as the cook in Esther’s + establishment, it seemed to him inexplicable that the half-caste woman + should have had a finger in the pie. Thus, for the first time, these two + artistic spies had come on a text that they could not decipher, while + suspecting a dark plot to the story. + </p> + <p> + After three bold attempts on the house in the Rue Taitbout, Contenson + still met with absolute dumbness. So long as Esther dwelt there the lodge + porter seemed to live in mortal terror. Asie had, perhaps, promised + poisoned meat-balls to all the family in the event of any indiscretion. + </p> + <p> + On the day after Esther’s removal, Contenson found this man rather more + amenable; he regretted the lady, he said, who had fed him with the broken + dishes from her table. Contenson, disguised as a broker, tried to bargain + for the rooms, and listened to the porter’s lamentations while he fooled + him, casting a doubt on all the man said by a questioning “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, the lady lived here for five years without ever going out, + and more by token, her lover, desperately jealous though she was beyond + reproach, took the greatest precautions when he came in or went out. And a + very handsome young man he was too!” + </p> + <p> + Lucien was at this time still staying with his sister, Madame Sechard; but + as soon as he returned, Contenson sent the porter to the Quai Malaquais to + ask Monsieur de Rubempre whether he were willing to part with the + furniture left in the rooms lately occupied by Madame van Bogseck. The + porter then recognized Lucien as the young widow’s mysterious lover, and + this was all that Contenson wanted. The deep but suppressed astonishment + may be imagined with which Lucien and Carlos received the porter, whom + they affected to regard as a madman; they tried to upset his convictions. + </p> + <p> + Within twenty-four hours Carlos had organized a force which detected + Contenson red-handed in the act of espionage. Contenson, disguised as a + market-porter, had twice already brought home the provisions purchased in + the morning by Asie, and had twice got into the little mansion in the Rue + Saint-Georges. Corentin, on his part, was making a stir; but he was + stopped short by recognizing the certain identity of Carlos Herrera; for + he learned at once that this Abbe, the secret envoy of Ferdinand VII., had + come to Paris towards the end of 1823. Still, Corentin thought it worth + while to study the reasons which had led the Spaniard to take an interest + in Lucien de Rubempre. It was soon clear to him, beyond doubt, that Esther + had for five years been Lucien’s mistress; so the substitution of the + Englishwoman had been effected for the advantage of that young dandy. + </p> + <p> + Now Lucien had no means; he was rejected as a suitor for Mademoiselle de + Grandlieu; and he had just bought up the lands of Rubempre at the cost of + a million francs. + </p> + <p> + Corentin very skilfully made the head of the General Police take the first + steps; and the Prefet de Police a propos to Peyrade, informed his chief + that the appellants in that affair had been in fact the Comte de Serizy + and Lucien de Rubempre. + </p> + <p> + “We have it!” cried Peyrade and Corentin. + </p> + <p> + The two friends had laid plans in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “This hussy,” said Corentin, “has had intimacies; she must have some women + friends. Among them we shall certainly find one or another who is down on + her luck; one of us must play the part of a rich foreigner and take her + up. We will throw them together. They always want something of each other + in the game of lovers, and we shall then be in the citadel.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade naturally proposed to assume his disguise as an Englishman. The + wild life he should lead during the time that he would take to disentangle + the plot of which he had been the victim, smiled on his fancy; while + Corentin, grown old in his functions, and weakly too, did not care for it. + Disguised as a mulatto, Contenson at once evaded Carlos’ force. Just three + days before Peyrade’s meeting with Madame du Val-Noble in the + Champs-Elysees, this last of the agents employed by MM. de Sartine and + Lenoir had arrived, provided with a passport, at the Hotel Mirabeau, Rue + de la Paix, having come from the Colonies via le Havre, in a traveling + chaise, as mud-splashed as though it had really come from le Havre, + instead of no further than by the road from Saint-Denis to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera, on his part, had his passport <i>vise</i> at the Spanish + Embassy, and arranged everything at the Quai Malaquais to start for + Madrid. And this is why. Within a few days Esther was to become the owner + of the house in the Rue Saint-Georges and of shares yielding thirty + thousand francs a year; Europe and Asie were quite cunning enough to + persuade her to sell these shares and privately transmit the money to + Lucien. Thus Lucien, proclaiming himself rich through his sister’s + liberality, would pay the remainder of the price of the Rubempre estates. + Of this transaction no one could complain. Esther alone could betray + herself; but she would die rather than blink an eyelash. + </p> + <p> + Clotilde had appeared with a little pink kerchief round her crane’s neck, + so she had won her game at the Hotel de Grandlieu. The shares in the + Omnibus Company were already worth thrice their initial value. Carlos, by + disappearing for a few days, would put malice off the scent. Human + prudence had foreseen everything; no error was possible. The false + Spaniard was to start on the morrow of the day when Peyrade met Madame du + Val-Noble. But that very night, at two in the morning, Asie came in a cab + to the Quai Malaquais, and found the stoker of the machine smoking in his + room, and reconsidering all the points of the situation here stated in a + few words, like an author going over a page in his book to discover any + faults to be corrected. Such a man would not allow himself a second time + such an oversight as that of the porter in the Rue Taitbout. + </p> + <p> + “Paccard,” whispered Asie in her master’s ear, “recognized Contenson + yesterday, at half-past two, in the Champs-Elysees, disguised as a mulatto + servant to an Englishman, who for the last three days has been seen + walking in the Champs-Elysees, watching Esther. Paccard knew the hound by + his eyes, as I did when he dressed up as a market-porter. Paccard drove + the girl home, taking a round so as not to lose sight of the wretch. + Contenson is at the Hotel Mirabeau; but he exchanged so many signs of + intelligence with the Englishman, that Paccard says the other cannot + possibly be an Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + “We have a gadfly behind us,” said Carlos. “I will not leave till the day + after to-morrow. That Contenson is certainly the man who sent the porter + after us from the Rue Taitbout; we must ascertain whether this sham + Englishman is our foe.” + </p> + <p> + At noon Mr. Samuel Johnson’s black servant was solemnly waiting on his + master, who always breakfasted too heartily, with a purpose. Peyrade + wished to pass for a tippling Englishman; he never went out till he was + half-seas over. He wore black cloth gaiters up to his knees, and padded to + make his legs look stouter; his trousers were lined with the thickest + fustian; his waistcoat was buttoned up to his cheeks; a red scratch wig + hid half his forehead, and he had added nearly three inches to his height; + in short, the oldest frequenter of the Cafe David could not have + recognized him. From his squarecut coat of black cloth with full skirts he + might have been taken for an English millionaire. + </p> + <p> + Contenson made a show of the cold insolence of a nabob’s confidential + servant; he was taciturn, abrupt, scornful, and uncommunicative, and + indulged in fierce exclamations and uncouth gestures. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade was finishing his second bottle when one of the hotel waiters + unceremoniously showed in a man in whom Peyrade and Contenson both at once + discerned a gendarme in mufti. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Peyrade,” said the gendarme to the nabob, speaking in his ear, + “my instructions are to take you to the Prefecture.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, without saying a word, rose and took down his hat. + </p> + <p> + “You will find a hackney coach at the door,” said the man as they went + downstairs. “The Prefet thought of arresting you, but he decided on + sending for you to ask some explanation of your conduct through the + peace-officer whom you will find in the coach.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I ride with you?” asked the gendarme of the peace-officer when + Peyrade had got in. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the other; “tell the coachman quietly to drive to the + Prefecture.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade and Carlos were now face to face in the coach. Carlos had a + stiletto under his hand. The coach-driver was a man he could trust, quite + capable of allowing Carlos to get out without seeing him, or being + surprised, on arriving at his journey’s end, to find a dead body in his + cab. No inquiries are ever made about a spy. The law almost always leaves + such murders unpunished, it is so difficult to know the rights of the + case. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade looked with his keenest eye at the magistrate sent to examine him + by the Prefet of Police. Carlos struck him as satisfactory: a bald head, + deeply wrinkled at the back, and powdered hair; a pair of very light gold + spectacles, with double-green glasses over weak eyes, with red rims, + evidently needing care. These eyes seemed the trace of some squalid + malady. A cotton shirt with a flat-pleated frill, a shabby black satin + waistcoat, the trousers of a man of law, black spun silk stockings, and + shoes tied with ribbon; a long black overcoat, cheap gloves, black, and + worn for ten days, and a gold watch-chain—in every point the lower + grade of magistrate known by a perversion of terms as a peace-officer. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Monsieur Peyrade, I regret to find such a man as you the object + of surveillance, and that you should act so as to justify it. Your + disguise is not to the Prefet’s taste. If you fancy that you can thus + escape our vigilance, you are mistaken. You traveled from England by way + of Beaumont-sur-Oise, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Beaumont-sur-Oise?” repeated Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Or by Saint-Denis?” said the sham lawyer. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade lost his presence of mind. The question must be answered. Now any + reply might be dangerous. In the affirmative it was farcical; in the + negative, if this man knew the truth, it would be Peyrade’s ruin. + </p> + <p> + “He is a sharp fellow,” thought he. + </p> + <p> + He tried to look at the man and smile, and he gave him a smile for an + answer; the smile passed muster without protest. + </p> + <p> + “For what purpose have you disguised yourself, taken rooms at the + Mirabeau, and dressed Contenson as a black servant?” asked the + peace-officer. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Prefet may do what he chooses with me, but I owe no account + of my actions to any one but my chief,” said Peyrade with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean me to infer that you are acting by the orders of the General + Police,” said the other coldly, “we will change our route, and drive to + the Rue de Grenelle instead of the Rue de Jerusalem. I have clear + instructions with regard to you. But be careful! You are not in any deep + disgrace, and you may spoil your own game in a moment. As for me—I + owe you no grudge.—Come; tell me the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, this is the truth,” said Peyrade, with a glance at his + Cerberus’ red eyes. + </p> + <p> + The sham lawyer’s face remained expressionless, impassible; he was doing + his business, all truths were the same to him, he looked as though he + suspected the Prefet of some caprice. Prefets have their little tantrums. + </p> + <p> + “I have fallen desperately in love with a woman—the mistress of that + stockbroker who is gone abroad for his own pleasure and the displeasure of + his creditors—Falleix.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame du Val-Noble?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Peyrade. “To keep her for a month, which will not cost me + more than a thousand crowns, I have got myself up as a nabob and taken + Contenson as my servant. This is so absolutely true, monsieur, that if you + like to leave me in the coach, where I will wait for you, on my honor as + an old Commissioner-General of Police, you can go to the hotel and + question Contenson. Not only will Contenson confirm what I have the honor + of stating, but you may see Madame du Val-Noble’s waiting-maid, who is to + come this morning to signify her mistress’ acceptance of my offers, or the + conditions she makes. + </p> + <p> + “An old monkey knows what grimaces mean: I have offered her a thousand + francs a month and a carriage—that comes to fifteen hundred; five + hundred francs’ worth of presents, and as much again in some outings, + dinners and play-going; you see, I am not deceiving you by a centime when + I say a thousand crowns.—A man of my age may well spend a thousand + crowns on his last fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, Papa Peyrade! and you still care enough for women to——? + But you are deceiving me. I am sixty myself, and I can do without ‘em.—However, + if the case is as you state it, I quite understand that you should have + found it necessary to get yourself up as a foreigner to indulge your + fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “You can understand that Peyrade, or old Canquoelle of the Rue des + Moineaux——” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, neither of them would have suited Madame du Val-Noble,” Carlos put + in, delighted to have picked up Canquoelle’s address. “Before the + Revolution,” he went on, “I had for my mistress a woman who had previously + been kept by the gentleman-in-waiting, as they then called the + executioner. One evening at the play she pricked herself with a pin, and + cried out—a customary ejaculation in those days—‘Ah! + Bourreau!’ on which her neighbor asked her if this were a reminiscence?—Well, + my dear Peyrade, she cast off her man for that speech. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you have no wish to expose yourself to such a slap in the face.—Madame + du Val-Noble is a woman for gentlemen. I saw her once at the opera, and + thought her very handsome. + </p> + <p> + “Tell the driver to go back to the Rue de la Paix, my dear Peyrade. I will + go upstairs with you to your rooms and see for myself. A verbal report + will no doubt be enough for Monsieur le Prefet.” + </p> + <p> + Carlos took a snuff-box from his side-pocket—a black snuff-box lined + with silver-gilt—and offered it to Peyrade with an impulse of + delightful good-fellowship. Peyrade said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “And these are their agents! Good Heavens! what would Monsieur Lenoir say + if he could come back to life, or Monsieur de Sartines?” + </p> + <p> + “That is part of the truth, no doubt, but it is not all,” said the sham + lawyer, sniffing up his pinch of snuff. “You have had a finger in the + Baron de Nucingen’s love affairs, and you wish, no doubt, to entangle him + in some slip-knot. You missed fire with the pistol, and you are aiming at + him with a field-piece. Madame du Val-Noble is a friend of Madame de + Champy’s——” + </p> + <p> + “Devil take it. I must take care not to founder,” said Peyrade to himself. + “He is a better man than I thought him. He is playing me; he talks of + letting me go, and he goes on making me blab.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked Carlos with a magisterial air. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is true that I have been so foolish as to seek a woman in + Monsieur de Nucingen’s behoof, because he was half mad with love. That is + the cause of my being out of favor, for it would seem that quite + unconsciously I touched some important interests.” + </p> + <p> + The officer of the law remained immovable. + </p> + <p> + “But after fifty-two years’ experience,” Peyrade went on, “I know the + police well enough to have held my hand after the blowing up I had from + Monsieur le Prefet, who, no doubt, was right——” + </p> + <p> + “Then you would give up this fancy if Monsieur le Prefet required it of + you? That, I think, would be the best proof you could give of the + sincerity of what you say.” + </p> + <p> + “He is going it! he is going it!” thought Peyrade. “Ah! by all that’s + holy, the police to-day is a match for that of Monsieur Lenoir.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it up?” said he aloud. “I will wait till I have Monsieur le Prefet’s + orders.—But here we are at the hotel, if you wish to come up.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you find the money?” said Carlos point-blank, with a sagacious + glance. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I have a friend——” + </p> + <p> + “Get along,” said Carlos; “go and tell that story to an examining + magistrate!” + </p> + <p> + This audacious stroke on Carlos’ part was the outcome of one of those + calculations, so simple that none but a man of his temper would have + thought it out. + </p> + <p> + At a very early hour he had sent Lucien to Madame de Serizy’s. Lucien had + begged the Count’s private secretary—as from the Count—to go + and obtain from the Prefet of Police full particulars concerning the agent + employed by the Baron de Nucingen. The secretary came back provided with a + note concerning Peyrade, a copy of the summary noted on the back of his + record:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In the police force since 1778, having come to Paris from Avignon + two years previously. + + “Without money or character; possessed of certain State secrets. + + “Lives in the Rue des Moineaux under the name of Canquoelle, the + name of a little estate where his family resides in the department + of Vaucluse; very respectable people. + + “Was lately inquired for by a grand-nephew named Theodore de la + Peyrade. (See the report of an agent, No. 37 of the Documents.)” + </pre> + <p> + “He must be the man to whom Contenson is playing the mulatto servant!” + cried Carlos, when Lucien returned with other information besides this + note. + </p> + <p> + Within three hours this man, with the energy of a Commander-in-Chief, had + found, by Paccard’s help, an innocent accomplice capable of playing the + part of a gendarme in disguise, and had got himself up as a peace-officer. + Three times in the coach he had thought of killing Peyrade, but he had + made it a rule never to commit a murder with his own hand; he promised + himself that he would get rid of Peyrade all in good time by pointing him + out as a millionaire to some released convicts about the town. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade and his Mentor, as they went in, heard Contenson’s voice arguing + with Madame du Val-Noble’s maid. Peyrade signed to Carlos to remain in the + outer room, with a look meant to convey: “Thus you can assure yourself of + my sincerity.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame agrees to everything,” said Adele. “Madame is at this moment + calling on a friend, Madame de Champy, who has some rooms in the Rue + Taitbout on her hands for a year, full of furniture, which she will let + her have, no doubt. Madame can receive Mr. Johnson more suitably there, + for the furniture is still very decent, and monsieur might buy it for + madame by coming to an agreement with Madame de Champy.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, my girl. If this is not a job of fleecing, it is a bit of the + wool,” said the mulatto to the astonished woman. “However, we will go + shares——” + </p> + <p> + “That is your darkey all over!” cried Mademoiselle Adele. “If your nabob + is a nabob, he can very well afford to give madame the furniture. The + lease ends in April 1830; your nabob may renew it if he likes.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite willing,” said Peyrade, speaking French with a strong English + accent, as he came in and tapped the woman on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He cast a knowing look back at Carlos, who replied by an assenting nod, + understanding that the nabob was to keep up his part. + </p> + <p> + But the scene suddenly changed its aspect at the entrance of a person over + whom neither Carlos nor Peyrade had the least power. Corentin suddenly + came in. He had found the door open, and looked in as he went by to see + how his old friend played his part as nabob. + </p> + <p> + “The Prefet is still bullying me!” said Peyrade in a whisper to Corentin. + “He has found me out as a nabob.” + </p> + <p> + “We will spill the Prefet,” Corentin muttered in reply. + </p> + <p> + Then after a cool bow he stood darkly scrutinizing the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Stay here till I return,” said Carlos; “I will go to the Prefecture. If + you do not see me again, you may go your own way.” + </p> + <p> + Having said this in an undertone to Peyrade, so as not to humiliate him in + the presence of the waiting-maid, Carlos went away, not caring to remain + under the eye of the newcomer, in whom he detected one of those + fair-haired, blue-eyed men, coldly terrifying. + </p> + <p> + “That is the peace-officer sent after me by the Prefet,” said Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “That?” said Corentin. “You have walked into a trap. That man has three + packs of cards in his shoes; you can see that by the place of his foot in + the shoe; besides, a peace-officer need wear no disguise.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin hurried downstairs to verify his suspicions: Carlos was getting + into the fly. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! Monsieur l’Abbe!” cried Corentin. + </p> + <p> + Carlos looked around, saw Corentin, and got in quickly. Still, Corentin + had time to say: + </p> + <p> + “That was all I wanted to know.—Quai Malaquais,” he shouted to the + driver with diabolical mockery in his tone and expression. + </p> + <p> + “I am done!” said Jacques Collin to himself. “They have got me. I must get + ahead of them by sheer pace, and, above all, find out what they want of + us.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin had seen the Abbe Carlos Herrera five or six times, and the man’s + eyes were unforgettable. Corentin had suspected him at once from the cut + of his shoulders, then by his puffy face, and the trick of three inches of + added height gained by a heel inside the shoe. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! old fellow, they have drawn you,” said Corentin, finding no one in + the room but Peyrade and Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” cried Peyrade, with metallic hardness; “I will spend my last days + in putting him on a gridiron and turning him on it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Abbe Carlos Herrera, the Corentin of Spain, as I suppose. This + explains everything. The Spaniard is a demon of the first water, who has + tried to make a fortune for that little young man by coining money out of + a pretty baggage’s bolster.—It is your lookout if you think you can + measure your skill with a man who seems to me the very devil to deal + with.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Contenson, “he fingered the three hundred thousand francs + the day when Esther was arrested; he was in the cab. I remember those + eyes, that brow, and those marks of the smallpox.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a fortune my Lydie might have had!” cried Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “You may still play the nabob,” said Corentin. “To keep an eye on Esther + you must keep up her intimacy with Val-Noble. She was really Lucien’s + mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “They have got more than five hundred thousand francs out of Nucingen + already,” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “And they want as much again,” Corentin went on. “The Rubempre estate is + to cost a million.—Daddy,” added he, slapping Peyrade on the + shoulder, “you may get more than a hundred thousand francs to settle on + Lydie.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell me that, Corentin. If your scheme should fail, I cannot tell + what I might not do——” + </p> + <p> + “You will have it by to-morrow perhaps! The Abbe, my dear fellow, is most + astute; we shall have to kiss his spurs; he is a very superior devil. But + I have him sure enough. He is not a fool, and he will knock under. Try to + be a gaby as well as a nabob, and fear nothing.” + </p> + <p> + In the evening of this day, when the opposing forces had met face to face + on level ground, Lucien spent the evening at the Hotel Grandlieu. The + party was a large one. In the face of all the assembly, the Duchess kept + Lucien at her side for some time, and was most kind to him. + </p> + <p> + “You are going away for a little while?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame la Duchesse. My sister, in her anxiety to promote my + marriage, has made great sacrifices, and I have been enabled to repurchase + the lands of the Rubempres, to reconstitute the whole estate. But I have + found in my Paris lawyer a very clever man, who has managed to save me + from the extortionate terms that the holders would have asked if they had + known the name of the purchaser.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there a chateau?” asked Clotilde, with too broad a smile. + </p> + <p> + “There is something which might be called a chateau; but the wiser plan + would be to use the building materials in the construction of a modern + residence.” + </p> + <p> + Clotilde’s eyes blazed with happiness above her smile of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “You must play a rubber with my father this evening,” said she. “In a + fortnight I hope you will be asked to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear sir,” said the Duc de Grandlieu, “I am told that you have + bought the estate of Rubempre. I congratulate you. It is an answer to + those who say you are in debt. We bigwigs, like France or England, are + allowed to have a public debt; but men of no fortune, beginners, you see, + may not assume that privilege——” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Monsieur le Duc, I still owe five hundred thousand francs on my + land.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, you must marry a wife who can bring you the money; but you + will have some difficulty in finding a match with such a fortune in our + Faubourg, where daughters do not get large dowries.” + </p> + <p> + “Their name is enough,” said Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “We are only three wisk players—Maufrigneuse, d’Espard, and I—will + you make a fourth?” said the Duke, pointing to the card-table. + </p> + <p> + Clotilde came to the table to watch her father’s game. + </p> + <p> + “She expects me to believe that she means it for me,” said the Duke, + patting his daughter’s hands, and looking round at Lucien, who remained + quite grave. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, Monsieur d’Espard’s partner, lost twenty louis. + </p> + <p> + “My dear mother,” said Clotilde to the Duchess, “he was so judicious as to + lose.” + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock, after a few affectionate words with Mademoiselle de + Grandlieu, Lucien went home and to bed, thinking of the complete triumph + he was to enjoy a month hence; for he had not a doubt of being accepted as + Clotilde’s lover, and married before Lent in 1830. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, when Lucien was smoking his cigarettes after breakfast, + sitting with Carlos, who had become much depressed, M. de Saint-Esteve was + announced—what a touch of irony—who begged to see either the + Abbe Carlos Herrera or Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre. + </p> + <p> + “Was he told downstairs that I had left Paris?” cried the Abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the groom. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you must see the man,” said he to Lucien. “But do not say a + single compromising word, do not let a sign of surprise escape you. It is + the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “You will overhear me,” said Lucien. + </p> + <p> + Carlos hid in the adjoining room, and through the crack of the door he saw + Corentin, whom he recognized only by his voice, such powers of + transformation did the great man possess. This time Corentin looked like + an old paymaster-general. + </p> + <p> + “I have not had the honor of being known to you, monsieur,” Corentin + began, “but——” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse my interrupting you, monsieur, but——” + </p> + <p> + “But the matter in point is your marriage to Mademoiselle Clotilde de + Grandlieu—which will never take place,” Corentin added eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Lucien sat down and made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “You are in the power of a man who is able and willing and ready to prove + to the Duc de Grandlieu that the lands of Rubempre are to be paid for with + the money that a fool has given to your mistress, Mademoiselle Esther,” + Corentin went on. “It will be quite easy to find the minutes of the legal + opinions in virtue of which Mademoiselle Esther was summoned; there are + ways too of making d’Estourny speak. The very clever manoeuvres employed + against the Baron de Nucingen will be brought to light. + </p> + <p> + “As yet all can be arranged. Pay down a hundred thousand francs, and you + will have peace.—All this is no concern of mine. I am only the agent + of those who levy this blackmail; nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin might have talked for an hour; Lucien smoked his cigarette with + an air of perfect indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” replied he, “I do not want to know who you are, for men who + undertake such jobs as these have no name—at any rate, in my + vocabulary. I have allowed you to talk at your leisure; I am at home.—You + seem to me not bereft of common sense; listen to my dilemma.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, during which Lucien met Corentin’s cat-like eye fixed + on him with a perfectly icy stare. + </p> + <p> + “Either you are building on facts that are absolutely false, and I need + pay no heed to them,” said Lucien; “or you are in the right; and in that + case, by giving you a hundred thousand francs, I put you in a position to + ask me for as many hundred thousand francs as your employer can find + Saint-Esteves to ask for. + </p> + <p> + “However, to put an end, once and for all, to your kind intervention, I + would have you know that I, Lucien de Rubempre, fear no one. I have no + part in the jobbery of which you speak. If the Grandlieus make + difficulties, there are other young ladies of very good family ready to be + married. After all, it is no loss to me if I remain single, especially if, + as you imagine, I deal in blank bills to such advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “If Monsieur l’Abbe Carlos Herrera——” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” Lucien put in, “the Abbe Herrera is at this moment on the way + to Spain. He has nothing to do with my marriage, my interests are no + concern of his. That remarkable statesman was good enough to assist me at + one time with his advice, but he has reports to present to his Majesty the + King of Spain; if you have anything to say to him, I recommend you to set + out for Madrid.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Corentin plainly, “you will never be Mademoiselle + Clotilde de Grandlieu’s husband.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the worse for her!” replied Lucien, impatiently pushing Corentin + towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “You have fully considered the matter?” asked Corentin coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I do not recognize that you have any right either to meddle in + my affairs, or to make me waste a cigarette,” said Lucien, throwing away + his cigarette that had gone out. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, monsieur,” said Corentin. “We shall not meet again.—But + there will certainly be a moment in your life when you would give half + your fortune to have called me back from these stairs.” + </p> + <p> + In answer to this threat, Carlos made as though he were cutting off a + head. + </p> + <p> + “Now to business!” cried he, looking at Lucien, who was as white as ashes + after this dreadful interview. + </p> + <p> + If among the small number of my readers who take an interest in the moral + and philosophical side of this book there should be only one capable of + believing that the Baron de Nucingen was happy, that one would prove how + difficult it is to explain the heart of a courtesan by any kind of + physiological formula. Esther was resolved to make the poor millionaire + pay dearly for what he called his day of triumph. And at the beginning of + February 1830 the house-warming party had not yet been given in the + “little palace.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Esther in confidence to her friends, who repeated it to the + Baron, “I shall open house at the Carnival, and I mean to make my man as + happy as a cock in plaster.” + </p> + <p> + The phrase became proverbial among women of her kidney. + </p> + <p> + The Baron gave vent to much lamentation; like married men, he made himself + very ridiculous, he began to complain to his intimate friends, and his + dissatisfaction was generally known. + </p> + <p> + Esther, meanwhile, took quite a serious view of her position as the + Pompadour of this prince of speculators. She had given two or three small + evening parties, solely to get Lucien into the house. Lousteau, Rastignac, + du Tillet, Bixiou, Nathan, the Comte de Brambourg—all the cream of + the dissipated crew—frequented her drawing-room. And, as leading + ladies in the piece she was playing, Esther accepted Tullia, Florentine, + Fanny Beaupre, and Florine—two dancers and two actresses—besides + Madame du Val-Noble. Nothing can be more dreary than a courtesan’s home + without the spice of rivalry, the display of dress, and some variety of + type. + </p> + <p> + In six weeks Esther had become the wittiest, the most amusing, the + loveliest, and the most elegant of those female pariahs who form the class + of kept women. Placed on the pedestal that became her, she enjoyed all the + delights of vanity which fascinate women in general, but still as one who + is raised above her caste by a secret thought. She cherished in her heart + an image of herself which she gloried in, while it made her blush; the + hour when she must abdicate was ever present to her consciousness; thus + she lived a double life, really scorning herself. Her sarcastic remarks + were tinged by the temper which was roused in her by the intense contempt + felt by the Angel of Love, hidden in the courtesan, for the disgraceful + and odious part played by the body in the presence, as it were, of the + soul. At once actor and spectator, victim and judge, she was a living + realization of the beautiful Arabian Tales, in which a noble creature lies + hidden under a degrading form, and of which the type is the story of + Nebuchadnezzar in the book of books—the Bible. Having granted + herself a lease of life till the day after her infidelity, the victim + might surely play awhile with the executioner. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, the enlightenment that had come to Esther as to the secretly + disgraceful means by which the Baron had made his colossal fortune + relieved her of every scruple. She could play the part of Ate, the goddess + of vengeance, as Carlos said. And so she was by turns enchanting and + odious to the banker, who lived only for her. When the Baron had been + worked up to such a pitch of suffering that he wanted only to be quit of + Esther, she brought him round by a scene of tender affection. + </p> + <p> + Herrera, making a great show of starting for Spain, had gone as far as + Tours. He had sent the chaise on as far as Bordeaux, with a servant + inside, engaged to play the part of master, and to wait for him at + Bordeaux. Then, returning by diligence, dressed as a commercial traveler, + he had secretly taken up his abode under Esther’s roof, and thence, aided + by Asie and Europe, carefully directed all his machinations, keeping an + eye on every one, and especially on Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + About a fortnight before the day chosen for her great entertainment, which + was to be given in the evening after the first opera ball, the courtesan, + whose witticisms were beginning to make her feared, happened to be at the + Italian opera, at the back of a box which the Baron—forced to give a + box—had secured in the lowest tier, in order to conceal his + mistress, and not to flaunt her in public within a few feet of Madame de + Nucingen. Esther had taken her seat, so as to “rake” that of Madame de + Serizy, whom Lucien almost invariably accompanied. The poor girl made her + whole happiness centre in watching Lucien on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and + Saturdays by Madame de Serizy’s side. + </p> + <p> + At about half-past nine in the evening Esther could see Lucien enter the + Countess’ box, with a care-laden brow, pale, and with almost drawn + features. These symptoms of mental anguish were legible only to Esther. + The knowledge of a man’s countenance is, to the woman who loves him, like + that of the sea to a sailor. + </p> + <p> + “Good God! what can be the matter? What has happened? Does he want to + speak with that angel of hell, who is to him a guardian angel, and who + lives in an attic between those of Europe and Asie?” + </p> + <p> + Tormented by such reflections, Esther scarcely listened to the music. + Still less, it may be believed, did she listen to the Baron, who held one + of his “Anchel’s” hands in both his, talking to her in his horrible + Polish-Jewish accent, a jargon which must be as unpleasant to read as it + is to hear spoken. + </p> + <p> + “Esther,” said he, releasing her hand, and pushing it away with a slight + touch of temper, “you do not listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, Baron, you blunder in love as you gibber in French.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Der teufel</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in my boudoir here, I am at the opera. If you were not a barrel + made by Huret or Fichet, metamorphosed into a man by some trick of nature, + you would not make so much noise in a box with a woman who is fond of + music. I don’t listen to you? I should think not! There you sit rustling + my dress like a cockchafer in a paper-bag, and making me laugh with + contempt. You say to me, ‘You are so pretty, I should like to eat you!’ + Old simpleton! Supposing I were to say to you, ‘You are less intolerable + this evening than you were yesterday—we will go home?’—Well, + from the way you puff and sigh—for I feel you if I don’t listen to + you—I perceive that you have eaten an enormous dinner, and your + digestion is at work. Let me instruct you—for I cost you enough to + give some advice for your money now and then—let me tell you, my + dear fellow, that a man whose digestion is so troublesome as yours is, is + not justified in telling his mistress that she is pretty at unseemly + hours. An old soldier died of that very folly ‘in the arms of Religion,’ + as Blondet has it. + </p> + <p> + “It is now ten o’clock. You finished dinner at du Tillet’s at nine + o’clock, with your pigeon the Comte de Brambourg; you have millions and + truffles to digest. Come to-morrow night at ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Vat you are cruel!” cried the Baron, recognizing the profound truth of + this medical argument. + </p> + <p> + “Cruel!” echoed Esther, still looking at Lucien. “Have you not consulted + Bianchon, Desplein, old Haudry?—Since you have had a glimpse of + future happiness, do you know what you seem like to me?” + </p> + <p> + “No—vat?” + </p> + <p> + “A fat old fellow wrapped in flannel, who walks every hour from his + armchair to the window to see if the thermometer has risen to the degree + marked ‘<i>Silkworms</i>,’ the temperature prescribed by his physician.” + </p> + <p> + “You are really an ungrateful slut!” cried the Baron, in despair at + hearing a tune, which, however, amorous old men not unfrequently hear at + the opera. + </p> + <p> + “Ungrateful!” retorted Esther. “What have you given me till now? A great + deal of annoyance. Come, papa! Can I be proud of you? You! you are proud + of me; I wear your livery and badge with an air. You paid my debts? So you + did. But you have grabbed so many millions—come, you need not sulk; + you admitted that to me—that you need not think twice of that. And + this is your chief title to fame. A baggage and a thief—a + well-assorted couple! + </p> + <p> + “You have built a splendid cage for a parrot that amuses you. Go and ask a + Brazilian cockatoo what gratitude it owes to the man who placed it in a + gilded cage.—Don’t look at me like that; you are just like a Buddist + Bonze. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you show your red-and-white cockatoo to all Paris. You say, ‘Does + anybody else in Paris own such a parrot? And how well it talks, how + cleverly it picks its words!’ If du Tillet comes in, it says at once, + ‘How’do, little swindler!’—Why, you are as happy as a Dutchman who + has grown an unique tulip, as an old nabob pensioned off in Asia by + England, when a commercial traveler sells him the first Swiss snuff-box + that opens in three places. + </p> + <p> + “You want to win my heart? Well, now, I will tell you how to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak, speak, dere is noting I shall not do for you. I lofe to be fooled + by you.” + </p> + <p> + “Be young, be handsome, be like Lucien de Rubempre over there by your + wife, and you shall have gratis what you can never buy with all your + millions!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go ‘vay, for really you are too bat dis evening!” said the + banker, with a lengthened face. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, good-night then,” said Esther. “Tell Georches to make your + pillows very high and place your fee low, for you look apoplectic this + evening.—You cannot say, my dear, that I take no interest in your + health.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron was standing up, and held the door-knob in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Nucingen,” said Esther, with an imperious gesture. + </p> + <p> + The Baron bent over her with dog-like devotion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to see me very sweet, and giving you sugar-and-water, and + petting you in my house, this very evening, old monster?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall break my heart!” + </p> + <p> + “Break your heart—you mean bore you,” she went on. “Well, bring me + Lucien that I may invite him to our Belshazzar’s feast, and you may be + sure he will not fail to come. If you succeed in that little transaction, + I will tell you that I love you, my fat Frederic, in such plain terms that + you cannot but believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an enchantress,” said the Baron, kissing Esther’s glove. “I + should be villing to listen to abuse for ein hour if alvays der vas a kiss + at de ent of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But if I am not obeyed, I——” and she threatened the Baron + with her finger as we threaten children. + </p> + <p> + The Baron raised his head like a bird caught in a springe and imploring + the trapper’s pity. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Heaven! What ails Lucien?” said she to herself when she was alone, + making no attempt to check her falling tears; “I never saw him so sad.” + </p> + <p> + This is what had happened to Lucien that very evening. + </p> + <p> + At nine o’clock he had gone out, as he did every evening, in his brougham + to go to the Hotel de Grandlieu. Using his saddle-horse and cab in the + morning only, like all young men, he had hired a brougham for winter + evenings, and had chosen a first-class carriage and splendid horses from + one of the best job-masters. For the last month all had gone well with + him; he had dined with the Grandlieus three times; the Duke was delightful + to him; his shares in the Omnibus Company, sold for three hundred thousand + francs, had paid off a third more of the price of the land; Clotilde de + Grandlieu, who dressed beautifully now, reddened inch thick when he went + into the room, and loudly proclaimed her attachment to him. Some + personages of high estate discussed their marriage as a probable event. + The Duc de Chaulieu, formerly Ambassador to Spain, and now for a short + while Minister for Foreign Affairs, had promised the Duchesse de Grandlieu + that he would ask for the title of Marquis for Lucien. + </p> + <p> + So that evening, after dining with Madame de Serizy, Lucien had driven to + the Faubourg Saint-Germain to pay his daily visit. + </p> + <p> + He arrives, the coachman calls for the gate to be opened, he drives into + the courtyard and stops at the steps. Lucien, on getting out, remarks four + other carriages in waiting. On seeing Monsieur de Rubempre, one of the + footmen placed to open and shut the hall-door comes forward and out on to + the steps, in front of the door, like a soldier on guard. + </p> + <p> + “His Grace is not at home,” says he. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Duchesse is receiving company,” observes Lucien to the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Duchesse is gone out,” replies the man solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Clotilde——” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that Mademoiselle Clotilde will see you, monsieur, in the + absence of Madame la Duchesse.” + </p> + <p> + “But there are people here,” replies Lucien in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, sir,” says the man, trying to seem stupid and to be + respectful. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing more fatal than etiquette to those who regard it as the + most formidable arm of social law. Lucien easily interpreted the meaning + of this scene, so disastrous to him. The Duke and Duchess would not admit + him. He felt the spinal marrow freezing in the core of his vertebral + column, and a sickly cold sweat bedewed his brow. The conversation had + taken place in the presence of his own body-servant, who held the door of + the brougham, doubting whether to shut it. Lucien signed to him that he + was going away again; but as he stepped into the carriage, he heard the + noise of people coming downstairs, and the servant called out first, + “Madame la Duchesse de Chaulieu’s people,” then “Madame la Vicomtesse de + Grandlieu’s carriage!” + </p> + <p> + Lucien merely said, “To the Italian opera”; but in spite of his haste, the + luckless dandy could not escape the Duc de Chaulieu and his son, the Duc + de Rhetore, to whom he was obliged to bow, for they did not speak a word + to him. A great catastrophe at Court, the fall of a formidable favorite, + has ere now been pronounced on the threshold of a royal study, in one word + from an usher with a face like a plaster cast. + </p> + <p> + “How am I to let my adviser know of this disaster—this instant——?” + thought Lucien as he drove to the opera-house. “What is going on?” + </p> + <p> + He racked his brain with conjectures. + </p> + <p> + This was what had taken place. That morning, at eleven o’clock, the Duc de + Grandlieu, as he went into the little room where the family all + breakfasted together, said to Clotilde after kissing her, “Until further + orders, my child, think no more of the Sieur de Rubempre.” + </p> + <p> + Then he had taken the Duchesse by the hand, and led her into a window + recess to say a few words in an undertone, which made poor Clotilde turn + pale; for she watched her mother as she listened to the Duke, and saw her + expression of extreme surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Jean,” said the Duke to one of his servants, “take this note to Monsieur + le Duc de Chaulieu, and beg him to answer by you, Yes or No.—I am + asking him to dine here to-day,” he added to his wife. + </p> + <p> + Breakfast had been a most melancholy meal. The Duchess was meditative, the + Duke seemed to be vexed with himself, and Clotilde could with difficulty + restrain her tears. + </p> + <p> + “My child, your father is right; you must obey him,” the mother had said + to the daughter with much emotion. “I do not say as he does, ‘Think no + more of Lucien.’ No—for I understand your suffering”—Clotilde + kissed her mother’s hand—“but I do say, my darling, Wait, take no + step, suffer in silence since you love him, and put your trust in your + parents’ care.—Great ladies, my child, are great just because they + can do their duty on every occasion, and do it nobly.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it about?” asked Clotilde as white as a lily. + </p> + <p> + “Matters too serious to be discussed with you, my dearest,” the Duchess + replied. “For if they are untrue, your mind would be unnecessarily + sullied; and if they are true, you must never know them.” + </p> + <p> + At six o’clock the Duc de Chaulieu had come to join the Duc de Grandlieu, + who awaited him in his study. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Henri”—for the Dukes were on the most familiar terms, and + addressed each other by their Christian names. This is one of the shades + invented to mark a degree of intimacy, to repel the audacity of French + familiarity, and humiliate conceit—“tell me, Henri, I am in such a + desperate difficulty that I can only ask advice of an old friend who + understands business, and you have practice and experience. My daughter + Clotilde, as you know, is in love with that little Rubempre, whom I have + been almost compelled to accept as her promised husband. I have always + been averse to the marriage; however, Madame de Grandlieu could not bear + to thwart Clotilde’s passion. When the young fellow had repurchased the + family estate and paid three-quarters of the price, I could make no + further objections. + </p> + <p> + “But last evening I received an anonymous letter—you know how much + that is worth—in which I am informed that the young fellow’s fortune + is derived from some disreputable source, and that he is telling lies when + he says that his sister is giving him the necessary funds for his + purchase. For my daughter’s happiness, and for the sake of our family, I + am adjured to make inquiries, and the means of doing so are suggested to + me. Here, read it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am entirely of your opinion as to the value of anonymous letters, my + dear Ferdinand,” said the Duc de Chaulieu after reading the letter. + “Still, though we may contemn them, we must make use of them. We must + treat such letters as we would treat a spy. Keep the young man out of the + house, and let us make inquiries—— + </p> + <p> + “I know how to do it. Your lawyer is Derville, a man in whom we have + perfect confidence; he knows the secrets of many families, and can + certainly be trusted with this. He is an honest man, a man of weight, and + a man of honor; he is cunning and wily; but his wiliness is only in the + way of business, and you need only employ him to obtain evidence you can + depend upon. + </p> + <p> + “We have in the Foreign Office an agent of the superior police who is + unique in his power of discovering State secrets; we often send him on + such missions. Inform Derville that he will have a lieutenant in the case. + Our spy is a gentleman who will appear wearing the ribbon of the Legion of + Honor, and looking like a diplomate. This rascal will do the hunting; + Derville will only look on. Your lawyer will then tell you if the mountain + brings forth a mouse, or if you must throw over this little Rubempre. + Within a week you will know what you are doing.” + </p> + <p> + “The young man is not yet so far a Marquis as to take offence at my being + ‘Not at home’ for a week,” said the Duc de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “Above all, if you end by giving him your daughter,” replied the Minister. + “If the anonymous letter tells the truth, what of that? You can send + Clotilde to travel with my daughter-in-law Madeleine, who wants to go to + Italy.” + </p> + <p> + “You relieve me immensely. I don’t know whether I ought to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till the end.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” exclaimed the Duc de Grandlieu, “what is your man’s name? I + must mention it to Derville. Send him to me to-morrow by five o’clock; I + will have Derville here and put them in communication.” + </p> + <p> + “His real name,” said M. de Chaulieu, “is, I think, Corentin—a name + you must never have heard, for my gentleman will come ticketed with his + official name. He calls himself Monsieur de Saint-Something—Saint + Yves—Saint-Valere?—Something of the kind.—You may trust + him; Louis XVIII. had perfect confidence in him.” + </p> + <p> + After this confabulation the steward had orders to shut the door on + Monsieur de Rubempre—which was done. + </p> + <p> + Lucien paced the waiting-room at the opera-house like a man who was drunk. + He fancied himself the talk of all Paris. He had in the Duc de Rhetore one + of those unrelenting enemies on whom a man must smile, as he can never be + revenged, since their attacks are in conformity with the rules of society. + The Duc de Rhetore knew the scene that had just taken place on the outside + steps of the Grandlieus’ house. Lucien, feeling the necessity of at once + reporting the catastrophe to his high privy councillor, nevertheless was + afraid of compromising himself by going to Esther’s house, where he might + find company. He actually forgot that Esther was here, so confused were + his thoughts, and in the midst of so much perplexity he was obliged to + make small talk with Rastignac, who, knowing nothing of the news, + congratulated him on his approaching marriage. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Nucingen appeared smiling, and said to Lucien: + </p> + <p> + “Vill you do me de pleasure to come to see Montame de Champy, vat vill + infite you herself to von house-varming party——” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, Baron,” replied Lucien, to whom the Baron appeared as a + rescuing angel. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us,” said Esther to Monsieur de Nucingen, when she saw him come in + with Lucien. “Go and see Madame du Val-Noble, whom I discover in a box on + the third tier with her nabob.—A great many nabobs grow in the + Indies,” she added, with a knowing glance at Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “And that one,” said Lucien, smiling, “is uncommonly like yours.” + </p> + <p> + “And them,” said Esther, answering Lucien with another look of + intelligence, while still speaking to the Baron, “bring her here with her + nabob; he is very anxious to make your acquaintance. They say he is very + rich. The poor woman has already poured out I know not how many elegies; + she complains that her nabob is no good; and if you relieve him of his + ballast, perhaps he will sail closer to the wind.” + </p> + <p> + “You tink ve are all tieves!” said the Baron as he went away. + </p> + <p> + “What ails you, my Lucien?” asked Esther in her friend’s ear, just + touching it with her lips as soon as the box door was shut. + </p> + <p> + “I am lost! I have just been turned from the door of the Hotel de + Grandlieu under pretence that no one was admitted. The Duke and Duchess + were at home, and five pairs of horses were champing in the courtyard.” + </p> + <p> + “What! will the marriage not take place?” exclaimed Esther, much agitated, + for she saw a glimpse of Paradise. + </p> + <p> + “I do not yet know what is being plotted against me——” + </p> + <p> + “My Lucien,” said she in a deliciously coaxing voice, “why be worried + about it? You can make a better match by and by—I will get you the + price of two estates——” + </p> + <p> + “Give us supper to-night that I may be able to speak in secret to Carlos, + and, above all, invite the sham Englishman and Val-Noble. That nabob is my + ruin; he is our enemy; we will get hold of him, and we——” + </p> + <p> + But Lucien broke off with a gesture of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” asked the poor girl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Madame de Serizy sees me!” cried Lucien, “and to crown our woes, the + Duc de Rhetore, who witnessed my dismissal, is with her.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, at that very minute, the Duc de Rhetore was amusing himself with + Madame de Serizy’s discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + “Do you allow Lucien to be seen in Mademoiselle Esther’s box?” said the + young Duke, pointing to the box and to Lucien; “you, who take an interest + in him, should really tell him such things are not allowed. He may sup at + her house, he may even—But, in fact, I am no longer surprised at the + Grandlieus’ coolness towards the young man. I have just seen their door + shut in his face—on the front steps——” + </p> + <p> + “Women of that sort are very dangerous,” said Madame de Serizy, turning + her opera-glass on Esther’s box. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Duke, “as much by what they can do as by what they wish——” + </p> + <p> + “They will ruin him!” cried Madame de Serizy, “for I am told they cost as + much whether they are paid or no.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to him!” said the young Duke, affecting surprise. “They are far from + costing him anything; they give him money at need, and all run after him.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess’ lips showed a little nervous twitching which could not be + included in any category of smiles. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Esther, “come to supper at midnight. Bring Blondet and + Rastignac; let us have two amusing persons at any rate; and we won’t be + more than nine.” + </p> + <p> + “You must find some excuse for sending the Baron to fetch Eugenie under + pretence of warning Asie, and tell her what has befallen me, so that + Carlos may know before he has the nabob under his claws.” + </p> + <p> + “That shall be done,” said Esther. + </p> + <p> + And thus Peyrade was probably about to find himself unwittingly under the + same roof with his adversary. The tiger was coming into the lion’s den, + and a lion surrounded by his guards. + </p> + <p> + When Lucien went back to Madame de Serizy’s box, instead of turning to + him, smiling and arranging her skirts for him to sit by her, she affected + to pay him not the slightest attention, but looked about the house through + her glass. Lucien could see, however, by the shaking of her hand that the + Countess was suffering from one of those terrible emotions by which + illicit joys are paid for. He went to the front of the box all the same, + and sat down by her at the opposite corner, leaving a little vacant space + between himself and the Countess. He leaned on the ledge of the box with + his elbow, resting his chin on his gloved hand; then he half turned away, + waiting for a word. By the middle of the act the Countess had still + neither spoken to him nor looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” said she at last, “why you are here; your place is in + Mademoiselle Esther’s box——” + </p> + <p> + “I will go there,” said Lucien, leaving the box without looking at the + Countess. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said Madame du Val-Noble, going into Esther’s box with Peyrade, + whom the Baron de Nucingen did not recognize, “I am delighted to introduce + Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is a great admirer of M. de Nucingen’s talents.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, monsieur,” said Esther, smiling at Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, bocou,” said Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Baron, here is a way of speaking French which is as much like yours + as the low Breton dialect is like that of Burgundy. It will be most + amusing to hear you discuss money matters.—Do you know, Monsieur + Nabob, what I shall require of you if you are to make acquaintance with my + Baron?” said Esther with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!—Thank you so much, you will introduce me to Sir Baronet?” said + Peyrade with an extravagant English accent. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she, “you must give me the pleasure of your company at supper. + There is no pitch stronger than champagne for sticking men together. It + seals every kind of business, above all such as you put your foot in.—Come + this evening; you will find some jolly fellows.—As for you, my + little Frederic,” she added in the Baron’s ear, “you have your carriage + here—just drive to the Rue Saint-Georges and bring Europe to me + here; I have a few words to say to her about the supper. I have caught + Lucien; he will bring two men who will be fun.—We will draw the + Englishman,” she whispered to Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade and the Baron left the women together. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear, if you ever succeed in drawing that great brute, you will be + clever indeed,” said Suzanne. + </p> + <p> + “If it proves impossible, you must lend him to me for a week,” replied + Esther, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “You would but keep him half a day,” replied Madame du Val-Noble. “The + bread I eat is too hard; it breaks my teeth. Never again, to my dying day, + will I try to make an Englishman happy. They are all cold and selfish—pigs + on their hind legs.” + </p> + <p> + “What, no consideration?” said Esther with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, my dear, the monster has never shown the least + familiarity.” + </p> + <p> + “Under no circumstances whatever?” asked Esther. + </p> + <p> + “The wretch always addresses me as Madame, and preserves the most perfect + coolness imaginable at moments when every man is more or less amenable. To + him love-making!—on my word, it is nothing more nor less than + shaving himself. He wipes the razor, puts it back in its case, and looks + in the glass as if he were saying, ‘I have not cut myself!’ + </p> + <p> + “Then he treats me with such respect as is enough to send a woman mad. + That odious Milord Potboiler amuses himself by making poor Theodore hide + in my dressing-room and stand there half the day. In short, he tries to + annoy me in every way. And as stingy!—As miserly as Gobseck and + Gigonnet rolled into one. He takes me out to dinner, but he does not pay + the cab that brings me home if I happen not to have ordered my carriage to + fetch me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Esther, “but what does he pay you for your services?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear, positively nothing. Five hundred francs a month and not a + penny more, and the hire of a carriage. But what is it? A machine such as + they hire out for a third-rate wedding to carry an epicier to the Mairie, + to Church, and to the Cadran bleu.—Oh, he nettles me with his + respect. + </p> + <p> + “If I try hysterics and feel ill, he is never vexed; he only says: ‘I wish + my lady to have her own way, for there is nothing more detestable—no + gentleman—than to say to a nice woman, “You are a cotton bale, a + bundle of merchandise.”—Ha, hah! Are you a member of the Temperance + Society and anti-slavery?’ And my horror sits pale, and cold, and hard + while he gives me to understand that he has as much respect for me as he + might have for a Negro, and that it has nothing to do with his feelings, + but with his opinions as an abolitionist.” + </p> + <p> + “A man cannot be a worse wretch,” said Esther. “But I will smash up that + outlandish Chinee.” + </p> + <p> + “Smash him up?” replied Madame du Val-Noble. “Not if he does not love me. + You, yourself, would you like to ask him for two sous? He would listen to + you solemnly, and tell you, with British precision that would make a slap + in the face seem genial, that he pays dear enough for the trifle that love + can be to his poor life;” and, as before, Madame du Val-Noble mimicked + Peyrade’s bad French. + </p> + <p> + “To think that in our line of life we are thrown in the way of such men!” + exclaimed Esther. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear, you have been uncommonly lucky. Take good care of your + Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + “But your nabob must have got some idea in his head.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what Adele says.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my dear; that man, you may depend, has laid a bet that he will + make a woman hate him and pack him off in a certain time.” + </p> + <p> + “Or else he wants to do business with Nucingen, and took me up knowing + that you and I were friends; that is what Adele thinks,” answered Madame + du Val-Noble. “That is why I introduced him to you this evening. Oh, if + only I could be sure what he is at, what tricks I could play with you and + Nucingen!” + </p> + <p> + “And you don’t get angry?” asked Esther; “you don’t speak your mind now + and then?” + </p> + <p> + “Try it—you are sharp and smooth.—Well, in spite of your + sweetness, he would kill you with his icy smiles. ‘I am anti-slavery,’ he + would say, ‘and you are free.’—If you said the funniest things, he + would only look at you and say, ‘Very good!’ and you would see that he + regards you merely as a part of the show.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you turned furious?” + </p> + <p> + “The same thing; it would still be a show. You might cut him open under + the left breast without hurting him in the least; his internals are of + tinned-iron, I am sure. I told him so. He replied, ‘I am quite satisfied + with that physical constitution.’ + </p> + <p> + “And always polite. My dear, he wears gloves on his soul... + </p> + <p> + “I shall endure this martyrdom for a few days longer to satisfy my + curiosity. But for that, I should have made Philippe slap my lord’s cheek—and + he has not his match as a swordsman. There is nothing else left for it——” + </p> + <p> + “I was just going to say so,” cried Esther. “But you must ascertain first + that Philippe is a boxer; for these old English fellows, my dear, have a + depth of malignity——” + </p> + <p> + “This one has no match on earth. No, if you could but see him asking my + commands, to know at what hour he may come—to take me by surprise, + of course—and pouring out respectful speeches like a so-called + gentleman, you would say, ‘Why, he adores her!’ and there is not a woman + in the world who would not say the same.” + </p> + <p> + “And they envy us, my dear!” exclaimed Esther. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well!” sighed Madame du Val-Noble; “in the course of our lives we + learn more or less how little men value us. But, my dear, I have never + been so cruelly, so deeply, so utterly scorned by brutality as I am by + this great skinful of port wine. + </p> + <p> + “When he is tipsy he goes away—‘not to be unpleasant,’ as he tells + Adele, and not to be ‘under two powers at once,’ wine and woman. He takes + advantage of my carriage; he uses it more than I do.—Oh! if only we + could see him under the table to-night! But he can drink ten bottles and + only be fuddled; when his eyes are full, he still sees clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Like people whose windows are dirty outside,” said Esther, “but who can + see from inside what is going on in the street.—I know that property + in man. Du Tillet has it in the highest degree.” + </p> + <p> + “Try to get du Tillet, and if he and Nucingen between them could only + catch him in some of their plots, I should at least be revenged. They + would bring him to beggary! + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear, to have fallen into the hands of a hypocritical Protestant + after that poor Falleix, who was so amusing, so good-natured, so full of + chaff! How we used to laugh! They say all stockbrokers are stupid. Well, + he, for one, never lacked wit but once——” + </p> + <p> + “When he left you without a sou? That is what made you acquainted with the + unpleasant side of pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + Europe, brought in by Monsieur de Nucingen, put her viperine head in at + the door, and after listening to a few words whispered in her ear by her + mistress, she vanished. + </p> + <p> + At half-past eleven that evening, five carriages were stationed in the Rue + Saint-Georges before the famous courtesan’s door. There was Lucien’s, who + had brought Rastignac, Bixiou, and Blondet; du Tillet’s, the Baron de + Nucingen’s, the Nabob’s, and Florine’s—she was invited by du Tillet. + The closed and doubly-shuttered windows were screened by the splendid + Chinese silk curtains. Supper was to be served at one; wax-lights were + blazing, the dining-room and little drawing-room displayed all their + magnificence. The party looked forward to such an orgy as only three such + women and such men as these could survive. They began by playing cards, as + they had to wait about two hours. + </p> + <p> + “Do you play, milord?” asked du Tillet to Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “I have played with O’Connell, Pitt, Fox, Canning, Lord Brougham, Lord——” + </p> + <p> + “Say at once no end of lords,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Fitzwilliam, Lord Ellenborough, Lord Hertford, Lord——” + </p> + <p> + Bixiou was looking at Peyrade’s shoes, and stooped down. + </p> + <p> + “What are you looking for?” asked Blondet. + </p> + <p> + “For the spring one must touch to stop this machine,” said Florine. + </p> + <p> + “Do you play for twenty francs a point?” + </p> + <p> + “I will play for as much as you like to lose.” + </p> + <p> + “He does it well!” said Esther to Lucien. “They all take him for an + Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + Du Tillet, Nucingen, Peyrade, and Rastignac sat down to a whist-table; + Florine, Madame du Val-Noble, Esther, Blondet, and Bixiou sat round the + fire chatting. Lucien spent the time in looking through a book of fine + engravings. + </p> + <p> + “Supper is ready,” Paccard presently announced, in magnificent livery. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade was placed at Florine’s left hand, and on the other side of him + Bixiou, whom Esther had enjoined to make the Englishman drink freely, and + challenge him to beat him. Bixiou had the power of drinking an indefinite + quantity. + </p> + <p> + Never in his life had Peyrade seen such splendor, or tasted of such + cookery, or seen such fine women. + </p> + <p> + “I am getting my money’s worth this evening for the thousand crowns la + Val-Noble has cost me till now,” thought he; “and besides, I have just won + a thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “This is an example for men to follow!” said Suzanne, who was sitting by + Lucien, with a wave of her hand at the splendors of the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + Esther had placed Lucien next herself, and was holding his foot between + her own under the table. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear?” said Madame du Val-Noble, addressing Peyrade, who affected + blindness. “This is how you ought to furnish a house! When a man brings + millions home from India, and wants to do business with the Nucingens, he + should place himself on the same level.” + </p> + <p> + “I belong to a Temperance Society!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will drink like a fish!” said Bixiou, “for the Indies are + uncommon hot, uncle!” + </p> + <p> + It was Bixiou’s jest during supper to treat Peyrade as an uncle of his, + returned from India. + </p> + <p> + “Montame du Fal-Noble tolt me you shall have some iteas,” said Nucingen, + scrutinizing Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, this is what I wanted to hear,” said du Tillet to Rastignac; “the two + talking gibberish together.” + </p> + <p> + “You will see, they will understand each other at last,” said Bixiou, + guessing what du Tillet had said to Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Baronet, I have imagined a speculation—oh! a very comfortable + job—bocou profitable and rich in profits——” + </p> + <p> + “Now you will see,” said Blondet to du Tillet, “he will not talk one + minute without dragging in the Parliament and the English Government.” + </p> + <p> + “It is in China, in the opium trade——” + </p> + <p> + “Ja, I know,” said Nucingen at once, as a man who is well acquainted with + commercial geography. “But de English Gover’ment hafe taken up de opium + trate as a means dat shall open up China, and she shall not allow dat ve——” + </p> + <p> + “Nucingen has cut him out with the Government,” remarked du Tillet to + Blondet. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you have been in the opium trade!” cried Madame du Val-Noble. “Now I + understand why you are so narcotic; some has stuck in your soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Dere! you see!” cried the Baron to the self-styled opium merchant, and + pointing to Madame du Val-Noble. “You are like me. Never shall a + millionaire be able to make a voman lofe him.” + </p> + <p> + “I have loved much and often, milady,” replied Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “As a result of temperance,” said Bixiou, who had just seen Peyrade finish + his third bottle of claret, and now had a bottle of port wine uncorked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Peyrade, “it is very fine, the Portugal of England.” + </p> + <p> + Blondet, du Tillet, and Bixiou smiled at each other. Peyrade had the power + of travestying everything, even his wit. There are very few Englishmen who + will not maintain that gold and silver are better in England than + elsewhere. The fowls and eggs exported from Normandy to the London market + enable the English to maintain that the poultry and eggs in London are + superior (very fine) to those of Paris, which come from the same district. + </p> + <p> + Esther and Lucien were dumfounded by this perfection of costume, language, + and audacity. + </p> + <p> + They all ate and drank so well and so heartily, while talking and + laughing, that it went on till four in the morning. Bixiou flattered + himself that he had achieved one of the victories so pleasantly related by + Brillat-Savarin. But at the moment when he was saying to himself, as he + offered his “uncle” some more wine, “I have vanquished England!” Peyrade + replied in good French to this malicious scoffer, “Toujours, mon garcon” + (Go it, my boy), which no one heard but Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, good men all, he is as English as I am!—My uncle is a + Gascon! I could have no other!” + </p> + <p> + Bixiou and Peyrade were alone, so no one heard this announcement. Peyrade + rolled off his chair on to the floor. Paccard forthwith picked him up and + carried him to an attic, where he fell sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + At six o’clock next evening, the Nabob was roused by the application of a + wet cloth, with which his face was being washed, and awoke to find himself + on a camp-bed, face to face with Asie, wearing a mask and a black domino. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Papa Peyrade, you and I have to settle accounts,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” asked he, looking about him. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” said Asie, “and that will sober you.—Though you do + not love Madame du Val-Noble, you love your daughter, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter?” Peyrade echoed with a roar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mademoiselle Lydie.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” + </p> + <p> + “What then? She is no longer in the Rue des Moineaux; she has been carried + off.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade breathed a sigh like that of a soldier dying of a mortal wound on + the battlefield. + </p> + <p> + “While you were pretending to be an Englishman, some one else was + pretending to be Peyrade. Your little Lydie thought she was with her + father, and she is now in a safe place.—Oh! you will never find her! + unless you undo the mischief you have done.” + </p> + <p> + “What mischief?” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre had the door shut in his face at + the Duc de Grandlieu’s. This is due to your intrigues, and to the man you + let loose on us. Do not speak, listen!” Asie went on, seeing Peyrade open + his mouth. “You will have your daughter again, pure and spotless,” she + added, emphasizing her statement by the accent on every word, “only on the + day after that on which Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre walks out of + Saint-Thomas d’Aquin as the husband of Mademoiselle Clotilde. If, within + ten days Lucien de Rubempre is not admitted, as he has been, to the + Grandlieus’ house, you, to begin with, will die a violent death, and + nothing can save you from the fate that threatens you.—Then, when + you feel yourself dying, you will have time before breathing your last to + reflect, ‘My daughter is a prostitute for the rest of her life!’ + </p> + <p> + “Though you have been such a fool as give us this hold for our clutches, + you still have sense enough to meditate on this ultimatum from our + government. Do not bark, say nothing to any one; go to Contenson’s, and + change your dress, and then go home. Katt will tell you that at a word + from you your little Lydie went downstairs, and has not been seen since. + If you make any fuss, if you take any steps, your daughter will begin + where I tell you she will end—she is promised to de Marsay. + </p> + <p> + “With old Canquoelle I need not mince matters, I should think, or wear + gloves, heh?——Go on downstairs, and take care not to meddle in + our concerns any more.” + </p> + <p> + Asie left Peyrade in a pitiable state; every word had been a blow with a + club. The spy had tears in his eyes, and tears hanging from his cheeks at + the end of a wet furrow. + </p> + <p> + “They are waiting dinner for Mr. Johnson,” said Europe, putting her head + in a moment after. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade made no reply; he went down, walked till he reached a cab-stand, + and hurried off to undress at Contenson’s, not saying a word to him; he + resumed the costume of Pere Canquoelle, and got home by eight o’clock. He + mounted the stairs with a beating heart. When the Flemish woman heard her + master, she asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Well, and where is mademoiselle?” with such simplicity, that the old spy + was obliged to lean against the wall. The blow was more than he could + bear. He went into his daughter’s rooms, and ended by fainting with grief + when he found them empty, and heard Katt’s story, which was that of an + abduction as skilfully planned as if he had arranged it himself. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” thought he, “I must knock under. I will be revenged later; + now I must go to Corentin.—This is the first time we have met our + foes. Corentin will leave that handsome boy free to marry an Empress if he + wishes!—Yes, I understand that my little girl should have fallen in + love with him at first sight.—Oh! that Spanish priest is a knowing + one. Courage, friend Peyrade! disgorge your prey!” + </p> + <p> + The poor father never dreamed of the fearful blow that awaited him. + </p> + <p> + On reaching Corentin’s house, Bruno, the confidential servant, who knew + Peyrade, said: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is gone away.” + </p> + <p> + “For a long time?” + </p> + <p> + “For ten days.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. + </p> + <p> + “Good God, I am losing my wits! I ask him where—as if we ever told + them——” thought he. + </p> + <p> + A few hours before the moment when Peyrade was to be roused in his garret + in the Rue Saint-Georges, Corentin, coming in from his country place at + Passy, had made his way to the Duc de Grandlieu’s, in the costume of a + retainer of a superior class. He wore the ribbon of the Legion of Honor at + his button-hole. He had made up a withered old face with powdered hair, + deep wrinkles, and a colorless skin. His eyes were hidden by + tortoise-shell spectacles. He looked like a retired office-clerk. On + giving his name as Monsieur de Saint-Denis, he was led to the Duke’s + private room, where he found Derville reading a letter, which he himself + had dictated to one of his agents, the “number” whose business it was to + write documents. The Duke took Corentin aside to tell him all he already + knew. Monsieur de Saint-Denis listened coldly and respectfully, amusing + himself by studying this grand gentleman, by penetrating the tufa beneath + the velvet cover, by scrutinizing this being, now and always absorbed in + whist and in regard for the House of Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “If you will take my advice, monsieur,” said Corentin to Derville, after + being duly introduced to the lawyer, “we shall set out this very afternoon + for Angouleme by the Bordeaux coach, which goes quite as fast as the mail; + and we shall not need to stay there six hours to obtain the information + Monsieur le Duc requires. It will be enough—if I have understood + your Grace—to ascertain whether Monsieur de Rubempre’s sister and + brother-in-law are in a position to give him twelve hundred thousand + francs?” and he turned to the Duke. + </p> + <p> + “You have understood me perfectly,” said the Duke. + </p> + <p> + “We can be back again in four days,” Corentin went on, addressing + Derville, “and neither of us will have neglected his business long enough + for it to suffer.” + </p> + <p> + “That was the only difficulty I was about to mention to his Grace,” said + Derville. “It is now four o’clock. I am going home to say a word to my + head-clerk, and pack my traveling-bag, and after dinner, at eight o’clock, + I will be——But shall we get places?” he said to Monsieur de + Saint-Denis, interrupting himself. + </p> + <p> + “I will answer for that,” said Corentin. “Be in the yard of the Chief + Office of the Messageries at eight o’clock. If there are no places, they + shall make some, for that is the way to serve Monseigneur le Duc de + Grandlieu.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Duke most graciously, “I postpone my thanks——” + </p> + <p> + Corentin and the lawyer, taking this as a dismissal, bowed, and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + At the hour when Peyrade was questioning Corentin’s servant, Monsieur de + Saint-Denis and Derville, seated in the Bordeaux coach, were studying each + other in silence as they drove out of Paris. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, between Orleans and Tours, Derville, being bored, began to + converse, and Corentin condescended to amuse him, but keeping his + distance; he left him to believe that he was in the diplomatic service, + and was hoping to become Consul-General by the good offices of the Duc de + Grandlieu. Two days after leaving Paris, Corentin and Derville got out at + Mansle, to the great surprise of the lawyer, who thought he was going to + Angouleme. + </p> + <p> + “In this little town,” said Corentin, “we can get the most positive + information as regards Madame Sechard.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know her then?” asked Derville, astonished to find Corentin so + well informed. + </p> + <p> + “I made the conductor talk, finding he was a native of Angouleme. He tells + me that Madame Sechard lives at Marsac, and Marsac is but a league away + from Mansle. I thought we should be at greater advantage here than at + Angouleme for verifying the facts.” + </p> + <p> + “And besides,” thought Derville, “as Monsieur le Duc said, I act merely as + the witness to the inquiries made by this confidential agent——” + </p> + <p> + The inn at Mansle, <i>la Belle Etoile</i>, had for its landlord one of + those fat and burly men whom we fear we may find no more on our return; + but who still, ten years after, are seen standing at their door with as + much superfluous flesh as ever, in the same linen cap, the same apron, + with the same knife, the same oiled hair, the same triple chin,—all + stereotyped by novel-writers from the immortal Cervantes to the immortal + Walter Scott. Are they not all boastful of their cookery? have they not + all “whatever you please to order”? and do not all end by giving you the + same hectic chicken, and vegetables cooked with rank butter? They all + boast of their fine wines, and all make you drink the wine of the country. + </p> + <p> + But Corentin, from his earliest youth, had known the art of getting out of + an innkeeper things more essential to himself than doubtful dishes and + apocryphal wines. So he gave himself out as a man easy to please, and + willing to leave himself in the hands of the best cook in Mansle, as he + told the fat man. + </p> + <p> + “There is no difficulty about being the best—I am the only one,” + said the host. + </p> + <p> + “Serve us in the side room,” said Corentin, winking at Derville. “And do + not be afraid of setting the chimney on fire; we want to thaw out the + frost in our fingers.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not warm in the coach,” said Derville. + </p> + <p> + “Is it far to Marsac?” asked Corentin of the innkeeper’s wife, who came + down from the upper regions on hearing that the diligence had dropped two + travelers to sleep there. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to Marsac, monsieur?” replied the woman. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he said sharply. “Is it far from hence to Marsac?” he + repeated, after giving the woman time to notice his red ribbon. + </p> + <p> + “In a chaise, a matter of half an hour,” said the innkeeper’s wife. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that Monsieur and Madame Sechard are likely to be there in + winter?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure; they live there all the year round.” + </p> + <p> + “It is now five o’clock. We shall still find them up at nine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, till ten. They have company every evening—the cure, + Monsieur Marron the doctor——” + </p> + <p> + “Good folks then?” said Derville. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the best of good souls,” replied the woman, “straight-forward, honest—and + not ambitious neither. Monsieur Sechard, though he is very well off—they + say he might have made millions if he had not allowed himself to be robbed + of an invention in the paper-making of which the brothers Cointet are + getting the benefit——” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, to be sure, the Brothers Cointet!” said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue,” said the innkeeper. “What can it matter to these + gentlemen whether Monsieur Sechard has a right or no to a patent for his + inventions in paper-making?—If you mean to spend the night here—at + the <i>Belle Etoile</i>——” he went on, addressing the + travelers, “here is the book, and please to put your names down. We have + an officer in this town who has nothing to do, and spends all his time in + nagging at us——” + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” said Corentin, while Derville entered their names and his + profession as attorney to the lower Court in the department of the Seine, + “I fancied the Sechards were very rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Some people say they are millionaires,” replied the innkeeper. “But as to + hindering tongues from wagging, you might as well try to stop the river + from flowing. Old Sechard left two hundred thousand francs’ worth of + landed property, it is said; and that is not amiss for a man who began as + a workman. Well, and he may have had as much again in savings, for he made + ten or twelve thousand francs out of his land at last. So, supposing he + were fool enough not to invest his money for ten years, that would be all + told. But even if he lent it at high interest, as he is suspected of doing + there would be three hundred thousand francs perhaps, and that is all. + Five hundred thousand francs is a long way short of a million. I should be + quite content with the difference, and no more of the <i>Belle Etoile</i> + for me!” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” said Corentin. “Then Monsieur David Sechard and his wife have + not a fortune of two or three millions?” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” exclaimed the innkeeper’s wife, “that is what the Cointets are + supposed to have, who robbed him of his invention, and he does not get + more than twenty thousand francs out of them. Where do you suppose such + honest folks would find millions? They were very much pinched while the + father was alive. But for Kolb, their manager, and Madame Kolb, who is as + much attached to them as her husband, they could scarcely have lived. Why, + how much had they with La Verberie!—A thousand francs a year + perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin drew Derville aside and said: + </p> + <p> + “In vino veritas! Truth lives under a cork. For my part, I regard an inn + as the real registry office of the countryside; the notary is not better + informed than the innkeeper as to all that goes on in a small + neighborhood.—You see! we are supposed to know all about the + Cointets and Kolb and the rest. + </p> + <p> + “Your innkeeper is the living record of every incident; he does the work + of the police without suspecting it. A government should maintain two + hundred spies at most, for in a country like France there are ten millions + of simple-minded informers.—However, we need not trust to this + report; though even in this little town something would be known about the + twelve hundred thousand francs sunk in paying for the Rubempre estate. We + will not stop here long——” + </p> + <p> + “I hope not!” Derville put in. + </p> + <p> + “And this is why,” added Corentin; “I have hit on the most natural way of + extracting the truth from the mouth of the Sechard couple. I rely upon you + to support, by your authority as a lawyer, the little trick I shall employ + to enable you to hear a clear and complete account of their affairs.—After + dinner we shall set out to call on Monsieur Sechard,” said Corentin to the + innkeeper’s wife. “Have beds ready for us, we want separate rooms. There + can be no difficulty ‘under the stars.’” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur,” said the woman, “we invented the sign.” + </p> + <p> + “The pun is to be found in every department,” said Corentin; “it is no + monopoly of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Dinner is served, gentlemen,” said the innkeeper. + </p> + <p> + “But where the devil can that young fellow have found the money? Is the + anonymous writer accurate? Can it be the earnings of some handsome + baggage?” said Derville, as they sat down to dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that will be the subject of another inquiry,” said Corentin. “Lucien + de Rubempre, as the Duc de Chaulieu tells me, lives with a converted + Jewess, who passes for a Dutch woman, and is called Esther van Bogseck.” + </p> + <p> + “What a strange coincidence!” said the lawyer. “I am hunting for the + heiress of a Dutchman named Gobseck—it is the same name with a + transposition of consonants.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Corentin, “you shall have information as to her parentage on + my return to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later, the two agents for the Grandlieu family set out for La + Verberie, where Monsieur and Madame Sechard were living. + </p> + <p> + Never had Lucien felt any emotion so deep as that which overcame him at La + Verberie when comparing his own fate with that of his brother-in-law. The + two Parisians were about to witness the same scene that had so much struck + Lucien a few days since. Everything spoke of peace and abundance. + </p> + <p> + At the hour when the two strangers were arriving, a party of four persons + were being entertained in the drawing-room of La Verberie: the cure of + Marsac, a young priest of five-and-twenty, who, at Madame Sechard’s + request, had become tutor to her little boy Lucien; the country doctor, + Monsieur Marron; the Maire of the commune; and an old colonel, who grew + roses on a plot of land opposite to La Verberie on the other side of the + road. Every evening during the winter these persons came to play an + artless game of boston for centime points, to borrow the papers, or return + those they had finished. + </p> + <p> + When Monsieur and Madame Sechard had bought La Verberie, a fine house + built of stone, and roofed with slate, the pleasure-grounds consisted of a + garden of two acres. In the course of time, by devoting her savings to the + purpose, handsome Madame Sechard had extended her garden as far as a + brook, by cutting down the vines on some ground she purchased, and + replacing them with grass plots and clumps of shrubbery. At the present + time the house, surrounded by a park of about twenty acres, and enclosed + by walls, was considered the most imposing place in the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + Old Sechard’s former residence, with the outhouses attached, was now used + as the dwelling-house for the manager of about twenty acres of vineyard + left by him, of five farmsteads, bringing in about six thousand francs a + year, and ten acres of meadow land lying on the further side of the + stream, exactly opposite the little park; indeed, Madame Sechard hoped to + include them in it the next year. La Verberie was already spoken of in the + neighborhood as a chateau, and Eve Sechard was known as the Lady of + Marsac. Lucien, while flattering her vanity, had only followed the example + of the peasants and vine-dressers. Courtois, the owner of the mill, very + picturesquely situated a few hundred yards from the meadows of La + Verberie, was in treaty, it was said, with Madame Sechard for the sale of + his property; and this acquisition would give the finishing touch to the + estate and the rank of a “place” in the department. + </p> + <p> + Madame Sechard, who did a great deal of good, with as much judgment as + generosity, was equally esteemed and loved. Her beauty, now really + splendid, was at the height of its bloom. She was about six-and-twenty, + but had preserved all the freshness of youth from living in the + tranquillity and abundance of a country life. Still much in love with her + husband, she respected him as a clever man, who was modest enough to + renounce the display of fame; in short, to complete her portrait, it is + enough to say that in her whole existence she had never felt a throb of + her heart that was not inspired by her husband or her children. + </p> + <p> + The tax paid to grief by this happy household was, as may be supposed, the + deep anxiety caused by Lucien’s career, in which Eve Sechard suspected + mysteries, which she dreaded all the more because, during his last visit, + Lucien roughly cut short all his sister’s questions by saying that an + ambitious man owed no account of his proceedings to any one but himself. + </p> + <p> + In six years Lucien had seen his sister but three times, and had not + written her more than six letters. His first visit to La Verberie had been + on the occasion of his mother’s death; and his last had been paid with a + view to asking the favor of the lie which was so necessary to his + advancement. This gave rise to a very serious scene between Monsieur and + Madame Sechard and their brother, and left their happy and respected life + troubled by the most terrible suspicions. + </p> + <p> + The interior of the house, as much altered as the surroundings, was + comfortable without luxury, as will be understood by a glance round the + room where the little party were now assembled. A pretty Aubusson carpet, + hangings of gray cotton twill bound with green silk brocade, the woodwork + painted to imitate Spa wood, carved mahogany furniture covered with gray + woolen stuff and green gimp, with flower-stands, gay with flowers in spite + of the time of year, presented a very pleasing and homelike aspect. The + window curtains, of green brocade, the chimney ornaments, and the mirror + frames were untainted by the bad taste that spoils everything in the + provinces; and the smallest details, all elegant and appropriate, gave the + mind and eye a sense of repose and of poetry which a clever and loving + woman can and ought to infuse into her home. + </p> + <p> + Madame Sechard, still in mourning for her father, sat by the fire working + at some large piece of tapestry with the help of Madame Kolb, the + housekeeper, to whom she intrusted all the minor cares of the household. + </p> + <p> + “A chaise has stopped at the door!” said Courtois, hearing the sound of + wheels outside; “and to judge by the clatter of metal, it belongs to these + parts——” + </p> + <p> + “Postel and his wife have come to see us, no doubt,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Courtois, “the chaise has come from Mansle.” + </p> + <p> + “Montame,” said Kolb, the burly Alsatian we have made acquaintance with in + a former volume (<i>Illusions perdues</i>), “here is a lawyer from Paris + who wants to speak with monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “A lawyer!” cried Sechard; “the very word gives me the colic!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” said the Maire of Marsac, named Cachan, who for twenty years + had been an attorney at Angouleme, and who had once been required to + prosecute Sechard. + </p> + <p> + “My poor David will never improve; he will always be absent-minded!” said + Eve, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “A lawyer from Paris,” said Courtois. “Have you any business in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Eve. + </p> + <p> + “But you have a brother there,” observed Courtois. + </p> + <p> + “Take care lest he should have anything to say about old Sechard’s + estate,” said Cachan. “<i>He</i> had his finger in some very queer + concerns, worthy man!” + </p> + <p> + Corentin and Derville, on entering the room, after bowing to the company, + and giving their names, begged to have a private interview with Monsieur + and Madame Sechard. + </p> + <p> + “By all means,” said Sechard. “But is it a matter of business?” + </p> + <p> + “Solely a matter regarding your father’s property,” said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Then I beg you will allow monsieur—the Maire, a lawyer formerly at + Angouleme—to be present also.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you Monsieur Derville?” said Cachan, addressing Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, this is Monsieur Derville,” replied Corentin, introducing + the lawyer, who bowed. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Sechard, “we are, so to speak, a family party; we have no + secrets from our neighbors; there is no need to retire to my study, where + there is no fire—our life is in the sight of all men——” + </p> + <p> + “But your father’s,” said Corentin, “was involved in certain mysteries + which perhaps you would rather not make public.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it anything we need blush for?” said Eve, in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! a sin of his youth,” said Corentin, coldly setting one of his + mouse-traps. “Monsieur, your father left an elder son——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the old rascal!” cried Courtois. “He was never very fond of you, + Monsieur Sechard, and he kept that secret from you, the deep old dog!—Now + I understand what he meant when he used to say to me, ‘You shall see what + you shall see when I am under the turf.’” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be dismayed, monsieur,” said Corentin to Sechard, while he watched + Eve out of the corner of his eye. + </p> + <p> + “A brother!” exclaimed the doctor. “Then your inheritance is divided into + two!” + </p> + <p> + Derville was affecting to examine the fine engravings, proofs before + letters, which hung on the drawing-room walls. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be dismayed, madame,” Corentin went on, seeing amazement written + on Madame Sechard’s handsome features, “it is only a natural son. The + rights of a natural son are not the same as those of a legitimate child. + This man is in the depths of poverty, and he has a right to a certain sum + calculated on the amount of the estate. The millions left by your father——” + </p> + <p> + At the word millions there was a perfectly unanimous cry from all the + persons present. And now Derville ceased to study the prints. + </p> + <p> + “Old Sechard?—Millions?” said Courtois. “Who on earth told you that? + Some peasant——” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Cachan, “you are not attached to the Treasury? You may be + told all the facts——” + </p> + <p> + “Be quite easy,” said Corentin, “I give you my word of honor I am not + employed by the Treasury.” + </p> + <p> + Cachan, who had just signed to everybody to say nothing, gave expression + to his satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” Corentin went on, “if the whole estate were but a million, a + natural child’s share would still be something considerable. But we have + not come to threaten a lawsuit; on the contrary, our purpose is to propose + that you should hand over one hundred thousand francs, and we will depart——” + </p> + <p> + “One hundred thousand francs!” cried Cachan, interrupting him. “But, + monsieur, old Sechard left twenty acres of vineyard, five small farms, ten + acres of meadowland here, and not a sou besides——” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing on earth,” cried David Sechard, “would induce me to tell a lie, + and less to a question of money than on any other.—Monsieur,” he + said, turning to Corentin and Derville, “my father left us, besides the + land——” + </p> + <p> + Courtois and Cachan signaled in vain to Sechard; he went on: + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred thousand francs, which raises the whole estate to about + five hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Cachan,” asked Eve Sechard, “what proportion does the law allot + to a natural child?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Corentin, “we are not Turks; we only require you to swear + before these gentlemen that you did not inherit more than five hundred + thousand francs from your father-in-law, and we can come to an + understanding.” + </p> + <p> + “First give me your word of honor that you really are a lawyer,” said + Cachan to Derville. + </p> + <p> + “Here is my passport,” replied Derville, handing him a paper folded in + four; “and monsieur is not, as you might suppose, an inspector from the + Treasury, so be easy,” he added. “We had an important reason for wanting + to know the truth as to the Sechard estate, and we now know it.” + </p> + <p> + Derville took Madame Sechard’s hand and led her very courteously to the + further end of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said he, in a low voice, “if it were not that the honor and + future prospects of the house of Grandlieu are implicated in this affair, + I would never have lent myself to the stratagem devised by this gentleman + of the red ribbon. But you must forgive him; it was necessary to detect + the falsehood by means of which your brother has stolen a march on the + beliefs of that ancient family. Beware now of allowing it to be supposed + that you have given your brother twelve hundred thousand francs to + repurchase the Rubempre estates——” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve hundred thousand francs!” cried Madame Sechard, turning pale. + “Where did he get them, wretched boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is the question,” replied Derville. “I fear that the source of + his wealth is far from pure.” + </p> + <p> + The tears rose to Eve’s eyes, as her neighbors could see. + </p> + <p> + “We have, perhaps, done you a great service by saving you from abetting a + falsehood of which the results may be positively dangerous,” the lawyer + went on. + </p> + <p> + Derville left Madame Sechard sitting pale and dejected with tears on her + cheeks, and bowed to the company. + </p> + <p> + “To Mansle!” said Corentin to the little boy who drove the chaise. + </p> + <p> + There was but one vacant place in the diligence from Bordeaux to Paris; + Derville begged Corentin to allow him to take it, urging a press of + business; but in his soul he was distrustful of his traveling companion, + whose diplomatic dexterity and coolness struck him as being the result of + practice. Corentin remained three days longer at Mansle, unable to get + away; he was obliged to secure a place in the Paris coach by writing to + Bordeaux, and did not get back till nine days after leaving home. + </p> + <p> + Peyrade, meanwhile, had called every morning, either at Passy or in Paris, + to inquire whether Corentin had returned. On the eighth day he left at + each house a note, written in their peculiar cipher, to explain to his + friend what death hung over him, and to tell him of Lydie’s abduction and + the horrible end to which his enemies had devoted them. Peyrade, bereft of + Corentin, but seconded by Contenson, still kept up his disguise as a + nabob. Even though his invisible foes had discovered him, he very wisely + reflected that he might glean some light on the matter by remaining on the + field of the contest. + </p> + <p> + Contenson had brought all his experience into play in his search for + Lydie, and hoped to discover in what house she was hidden; but as the days + went by, the impossibility, absolutely demonstrated, of tracing the + slightest clue, added, hour by hour, to Peyrade’s despair. The old spy had + a sort of guard about him of twelve or fifteen of the most experienced + detectives. They watched the neighborhood of the Rue des Moineaux and the + Rue Taitbout—where he lived, as a nabob, with Madame du Val-Noble. + During the last three days of the term granted by Asie to reinstate Lucien + on his old footing in the Hotel de Grandlieu, Contenson never left the + veteran of the old general police office. And the poetic terror shed + throughout the forests of America by the arts of inimical and warring + tribes, of which Cooper made such good use in his novels, was here + associated with the petty details of Paris life. The foot-passengers, the + shops, the hackney cabs, a figure standing at a window,—everything + had to the human ciphers to whom old Peyrade had intrusted his safety the + thrilling interest which attaches in Cooper’s romances to a + beaver-village, a rock, a bison-robe, a floating canoe, a weed straggling + over the water. + </p> + <p> + “If the Spaniard has gone away, you have nothing to fear,” said Contenson + to Peyrade, remarking on the perfect peace they lived in. + </p> + <p> + “But if he is not gone?” observed Peyrade. + </p> + <p> + “He took one of my men at the back of the chaise; but at Blois, my man + having to get down, could not catch the chaise up again.” + </p> + <p> + Five days after Derville’s return, Lucien one morning had a call from + Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “I am in despair, my dear boy,” said his visitor, “at finding myself + compelled to deliver a message which is intrusted to me because we are + known to be intimate. Your marriage is broken off beyond all hope of + reconciliation. Never set foot again in the Hotel de Grandlieu. To marry + Clotilde you must wait till her father dies, and he is too selfish to die + yet awhile. Old whist-players sit at table—the card-table—very + late. + </p> + <p> + “Clotilde is setting out for Italy with Madeleine de Lenoncourt-Chaulieu. + The poor girl is so madly in love with you, my dear fellow, that they have + to keep an eye on her; she was bent on coming to see you, and had plotted + an escape. That may comfort you in misfortune!” + </p> + <p> + Lucien made no reply; he sat gazing at Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “And is it a misfortune, after all?” his friend went on. “You will easily + find a girl as well born and better looking than Clotilde! Madame de + Serizy will find you a wife out of spite; she cannot endure the + Grandlieus, who never would have anything to say to her. She has a niece, + little Clemence du Rouvre——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” said Lucien at length, “since that supper I am not on terms + with Madame de Serizy—she saw me in Esther’s box and made a scene—and + I left her to herself.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman of forty does not long keep up a quarrel with so handsome a man + as you are,” said Rastignac. “I know something of these sunsets.—It + lasts ten minutes in the sky, and ten years in a woman’s heart.” + </p> + <p> + “I have waited a week to hear from her.” + </p> + <p> + “Go and call.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must now.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you coming at any rate to the Val-Noble’s? Her nabob is returning the + supper given by Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + “I am asked, and I shall go,” said Lucien gravely. + </p> + <p> + The day after this confirmation of his disaster, which Carlos heard of at + once from Asie, Lucien went to the Rue Taitbout with Rastignac and + Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + At midnight nearly all the personages of this drama were assembled in the + dining-room that had formerly been Esther’s—a drama of which the + interest lay hidden under the very bed of these tumultuous lives, and was + known only to Esther, to Lucien, to Peyrade, to Contenson, the mulatto, + and to Paccard, who attended his mistress. Asie, without its being known + to Contenson and Peyrade, had been asked by Madame du Val-Noble to come + and help her cook. + </p> + <p> + As they sat down to table, Peyrade, who had given Madame du Val-Noble five + hundred francs that the thing might be well done, found under his napkin a + scrap of paper on which these words were written in pencil, “The ten days + are up at the moment when you sit down to supper.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade handed the paper to Contenson, who was standing behind him, saying + in English: + </p> + <p> + “Did you put my name here?” + </p> + <p> + Contenson read by the light of the wax-candles this “Mene, Tekel, + Upharsin,” and slipped the scrap into his pocket; but he knew how + difficult it is to verify a handwriting in pencil, and, above all, a + sentence written in Roman capitals, that is to say, with mathematical + lines, since capital letters are wholly made up of straight lines and + curves, in which it is impossible to detect any trick of the hand, as in + what is called running-hand. + </p> + <p> + The supper was absolutely devoid of spirit. Peyrade was visibly + absent-minded. Of the men about town who give life to a supper, only + Rastignac and Lucien were present. Lucien was gloomy and absorbed in + thought; Rastignac, who had lost two thousand francs before supper, ate + and drank with the hope of recovering them later. The three women, + stricken by this chill, looked at each other. Dulness deprived the dishes + of all relish. Suppers, like plays and books, have their good and bad + luck. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the meal ices were served, of the kind called plombieres. As + everybody knows, this kind of dessert has delicate preserved fruits laid + on the top of the ice, which is served in a little glass, not heaped above + the rim. These ices had been ordered by Madame du Val-Noble of Tortoni, + whose shop is at the corner of the Rue Taitbout and the Boulevard. + </p> + <p> + The cook called Contenson out of the room to pay the bill. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, who thought this demand on the part of the shop-boy rather + strange, went downstairs and startled him by saying: + </p> + <p> + “Then you have not come from Tortoni’s?” and then went straight upstairs + again. + </p> + <p> + Paccard had meanwhile handed the ices to the company in his absence. The + mulatto had hardly reached the door when one of the police constables who + had kept watch in the Rue des Moineaux called up the stairs: + </p> + <p> + “Number twenty-seven.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s up?” replied Contenson, flying down again. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Papa that his daughter has come home; but, good God! in what a + state. Tell him to come at once; she is dying.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment when Contenson re-entered the dining-room, old Peyrade, who + had drunk a great deal, was swallowing the cherry off his ice. They were + drinking to the health of Madame du Val-Noble; the nabob filled his glass + with Constantia and emptied it. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his distress at the news he had to give Peyrade, Contenson was + struck by the eager attention with which Paccard was looking at the nabob. + His eyes sparkled like two fixed flames. Although it seemed important, + still this could not delay the mulatto, who leaned over his master, just + as Peyrade set his glass down. + </p> + <p> + “Lydie is at home,” said Contenson, “in a very bad state.” + </p> + <p> + Peyrade rattled out the most French of all French oaths with such a strong + Southern accent that all the guests looked up in amazement. Peyrade, + discovering his blunder, acknowledged his disguise by saying to Contenson + in good French: + </p> + <p> + “Find me a coach—I’m off.” + </p> + <p> + Every one rose. + </p> + <p> + “Why, who are you?” said Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “Ja—who?” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Bixiou told me you shammed Englishman better than he could, and I would + not believe him,” said Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “Some bankrupt caught in disguise,” said du Tillet loudly. “I suspected as + much!” + </p> + <p> + “A strange place is Paris!” said Madame du Val-Noble. “After being + bankrupt in his own part of town, a merchant turns up as a nabob or a + dandy in the Champs-Elysees with impunity!—Oh! I am unlucky! + bankrupts are my bane.” + </p> + <p> + “Every flower has its peculiar blight!” said Esther quietly. “Mine is like + Cleopatra’s—an asp.” + </p> + <p> + “Who am I?” echoed Peyrade from the door. “You will know ere long; for if + I die, I will rise from my grave to clutch your feet every night!” + </p> + <p> + He looked at Esther and Lucien as he spoke, then he took advantage of the + general dismay to vanish with the utmost rapidity, meaning to run home + without waiting for the coach. In the street the spy was gripped by the + arm as he crossed the threshold of the outer gate. It was Asie, wrapped in + a black hood such as ladies then wore on leaving a ball. + </p> + <p> + “Send for the Sacraments, Papa Peyrade,” said she, in the voice that had + already prophesied ill. + </p> + <p> + A coach was waiting. Asie jumped in, and the carriage vanished as though + the wind had swept it away. There were five carriages waiting; Peyrade’s + men could find out nothing. + </p> + <p> + On reaching his house in the Rue des Vignes, one of the quietest and + prettiest nooks of the little town of Passy, Corentin, who was known there + as a retired merchant passionately devoted to gardening, found his friend + Peyrade’s note in cipher. Instead of resting, he got into the hackney + coach that had brought him thither, and was driven to the Rue des + Moineaux, where he found only Katt. From her he heard of Lydie’s + disappearance, and remained astounded at Peyrade’s and his own want of + foresight. + </p> + <p> + “But they do not know me yet,” said he to himself. “This crew is capable + of anything; I must find out if they are killing Peyrade; for if so, I + must not be seen any more——” + </p> + <p> + The viler a man’s life is, the more he clings to it; it becomes at every + moment a protest and a revenge. + </p> + <p> + Corentin went back to the cab, and drove to his rooms to assume the + disguise of a feeble old man, in a scanty greenish overcoat and a tow wig. + Then he returned on foot, prompted by his friendship for Peyrade. He + intended to give instructions to his most devoted and cleverest + underlings. + </p> + <p> + As he went along the Rue Saint-Honore to reach the Rue Saint-Roch from the + Place Vendome, he came up behind a girl in slippers, and dressed as a + woman dresses for the night. She had on a white bed-jacket and a nightcap, + and from time to time gave vent to a sob and an involuntary groan. + Corentin out-paced her, and turning round, recognized Lydie. + </p> + <p> + “I am a friend of your father’s, of Monsieur Canquoelle’s,” said he in his + natural voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! then here is some one I can trust!” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Do not seem to have recognized me,” Corentin went on, “for we are pursued + by relentless foes, and are obliged to disguise ourselves. But tell me + what has befallen you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur,” said the poor child, “the facts but not the story can be + told—I am ruined, lost, and I do not know how——” + </p> + <p> + “Where have you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, monsieur. I fled with such precipitancy, I have come + through so many streets, round so many turnings, fancying I was being + followed. And when I met any one that seemed decent, I asked my way to get + back to the Boulevards, so as to find the Rue de la Paix. And at last, + after walking——What o’clock is it, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Half-past eleven,” said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “I escaped at nightfall,” said Lydie. “I have been walking for five + hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, come along; you can rest now; you will find your good Katt.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur, there is no rest for me! I only want to rest in the grave, + and I will go and wait for death in a convent if I am worthy to be + admitted——” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little girl!—But you struggled?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes! Oh! if you could only imagine the abject creatures they placed me + with——!” + </p> + <p> + “They sent you to sleep, no doubt?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is it” cried poor Lydie. “A little more strength and I should be + at home. I feel that I am dropping, and my brain is not quite clear.—Just + now I fancied I was in a garden——” + </p> + <p> + Corentin took Lydie in his arms, and she lost consciousness; he carried + her upstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Katt!” he called. + </p> + <p> + Katt came out with exclamations of joy. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be in too great a hurry to be glad!” said Corentin gravely; “the + girl is very ill.” + </p> + <p> + When Lydie was laid on her bed and recognized her own room by the light of + two candles that Katt lighted, she became delirious. She sang scraps of + pretty airs, broken by vociferations of horrible sentences she had heard. + Her pretty face was mottled with purple patches. She mixed up the + reminiscences of her pure childhood with those of these ten days of + infamy. Katt sat weeping; Corentin paced the room, stopping now and again + to gaze at Lydie. + </p> + <p> + “She is paying her father’s debt,” said he. “Is there a Providence above? + Oh, I was wise not to have a family. On my word of honor, a child is + indeed a hostage given to misfortune, as some philosopher has said.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried the poor child, sitting up in bed and throwing back her fine + long hair, “instead of lying here, Katt, I ought to be stretched in the + sand at the bottom of the Seine!” + </p> + <p> + “Katt, instead of crying and looking at your child, which will never cure + her, you ought to go for a doctor; the medical officer in the first + instance, and then Monsieur Desplein and Monsieur Bianchon——We + must save this innocent creature.” + </p> + <p> + And Corentin wrote down the addresses of these two famous physicians. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, up the stairs came some one to whom they were familiar, + and the door was opened. Peyrade, in a violent sweat, his face purple, his + eyes almost blood-stained, and gasping like a dolphin, rushed from the + outer door to Lydie’s room, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Where is my child?” + </p> + <p> + He saw a melancholy sign from Corentin, and his eyes followed his friend’s + hand. Lydie’s condition can only be compared to that of a flower tenderly + cherished by a gardener, now fallen from its stem, and crushed by the + iron-clamped shoes of some peasant. Ascribe this simile to a father’s + heart, and you will understand the blow that fell on Peyrade; the tears + started to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are crying!—It is my father!” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + She could still recognize her father; she got out of bed and fell on her + knees at the old man’s side as he sank into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, papa,” said she in a tone that pierced Peyrade’s heart, and + at the same moment he was conscious of what felt like a tremendous blow on + his head. + </p> + <p> + “I am dying!—the villains!” were his last words. + </p> + <p> + Corentin tried to help his friend, and received his latest breath. + </p> + <p> + “Dead! Poisoned!” said he to himself. “Ah! here is the doctor!” he + exclaimed, hearing the sound of wheels. + </p> + <p> + Contenson, who came with his mulatto disguise removed, stood like a bronze + statue as he heard Lydie say: + </p> + <p> + “Then you do not forgive me, father?—But it was not my fault!” + </p> + <p> + She did not understand that her father was dead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how he stares at me!” cried the poor crazy girl. + </p> + <p> + “We must close his eyes,” said Contenson, lifting Peyrade on to the bed. + </p> + <p> + “We are doing a stupid thing,” said Corentin. “Let us carry him into his + own room. His daughter is half demented, and she will go quite mad when + she sees that he is dead; she will fancy that she has killed him.” + </p> + <p> + Lydie, seeing them carry away her father, looked quite stupefied. + </p> + <p> + “There lies my only friend!” said Corentin, seeming much moved when + Peyrade was laid out on the bed in his own room. “In all his life he never + had but one impulse of cupidity, and that was for his daughter!—Let + him be an example to you, Contenson. Every line of life has its code of + honor. Peyrade did wrong when he mixed himself up with private concerns; + we have no business to meddle with any but public cases. + </p> + <p> + “But come what may, I swear,” said he with a voice, an emphasis, a look + that struck horror into Contenson, “to avenge my poor Peyrade! I will + discover the men who are guilty of his death and of his daughter’s ruin. + And as sure as I am myself, as I have yet a few days to live, which I will + risk to accomplish that vengeance, every man of them shall die at four + o’clock, in good health, by a clean shave on the Place de Greve.” + </p> + <p> + “And I will help you,” said Contenson with feeling. + </p> + <p> + Nothing, in fact, is more heart-stirring than the spectacle of passion in + a cold, self-contained, and methodical man, in whom, for twenty years, no + one has ever detected the smallest impulse of sentiment. It is like a + molten bar of iron which melts everything it touches. And Contenson was + moved to his depths. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Canquoelle!” said he, looking at Corentin. “He has treated me + many a time.—And, I tell you, only your bad sort know how to do such + things—but often has he given me ten francs to go and gamble + with...” + </p> + <p> + After this funeral oration, Peyrade’s two avengers went back to Lydie’s + room, hearing Katt and the medical officer from the Mairie on the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Go and fetch the Chief of Police,” said Corentin. “The public prosecutor + will not find grounds for a prosecution in the case; still, we will report + it to the Prefecture; it may, perhaps, be of some use. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he went on to the medical officer, “in this room you will see + a dead man. I do not believe that he died from natural causes; you will be + good enough to make a post-mortem in the presence of the Chief of the + Police, who will come at my request. Try to discover some traces of + poison. You will, in a few minutes, have the opinion of Monsieur Desplein + and Monsieur Bianchon, for whom I have sent to examine the daughter of my + best friend; she is in a worse plight than he, though he is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no need of those gentlemen’s assistance in the exercise of my + duty,” said the medical officer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” thought Corentin. “Let us have no clashing, monsieur,” he + said. “In a few words I give you my opinion—Those who have just + murdered the father have also ruined the daughter.” + </p> + <p> + By daylight Lydie had yielded to fatigue; when the great surgeon and the + young physician arrived she was asleep. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, whose duty it was to sign the death certificate, had now + opened Peyrade’s body, and was seeking the cause of death. + </p> + <p> + “While waiting for your patient to awake,” said Corentin to the two famous + doctors, “would you join one of your professional brethren in an + examination which cannot fail to interest you, and your opinion will be + valuable in case of an inquiry.” + </p> + <p> + “Your relations died of apoplexy,” said the official. “There are all the + symptoms of violent congestion of the brain.” + </p> + <p> + “Examine him, gentlemen, and see if there is no poison capable of + producing similar symptoms.” + </p> + <p> + “The stomach is, in fact, full of food substances; but short of chemical + analysis, I find no evidence of poison. + </p> + <p> + “If the characters of cerebral congestion are well ascertained, we have + here, considering the patient’s age, a sufficient cause of death,” + observed Desplein, looking at the enormous mass of material. + </p> + <p> + “Did he sup here?” asked Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Corentin; “he came here in great haste from the Boulevard, and + found his daughter ruined——” + </p> + <p> + “That was the poison if he loved his daughter,” said Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “What known poison could produce a similar effect?” asked Corentin, + clinging to his idea. + </p> + <p> + “There is but one,” said Desplein, after a careful examination. “It is a + poison found in the Malayan Archipelago, and derived from trees, as yet + but little known, of the strychnos family; it is used to poison that + dangerous weapon, the Malay kris.—At least, so it is reported.” + </p> + <p> + The Police Commissioner presently arrived; Corentin told him his + suspicions, and begged him to draw up a report, telling him where and with + whom Peyrade had supped, and the causes of the state in which he found + Lydie. + </p> + <p> + Corentin then went to Lydie’s rooms; Desplein and Bianchon had been + examining the poor child. He met them at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen?” asked Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Place the girl under medical care; unless she recovers her wits when her + child is born—if indeed she should have a child—she will end + her days melancholy-mad. There is no hope of a cure but in the maternal + instinct, if it can be aroused.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin paid each of the physicians forty francs in gold, and then turned + to the Police Commissioner, who had pulled him by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “The medical officer insists on it that death was natural,” said this + functionary, “and I can hardly report the case, especially as the dead man + was old Canquoelle; he had his finger in too many pies, and we should not + be sure whom we might run foul of. Men like that die to order very often——” + </p> + <p> + “And my name is Corentin,” said Corentin in the man’s ear. + </p> + <p> + The Commissioner started with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “So just make a note of all this,” Corentin went on; “it will be very + useful by and by; send it up only as confidential information. The crime + cannot be proved, and I know that any inquiry would be checked at the very + outset.—But I will catch the criminals some day yet. I will watch + them and take them red-handed.” + </p> + <p> + The police official bowed to Corentin and left. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Katt. “Mademoiselle does nothing but dance and sing. What + can I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Has any change occurred then?” + </p> + <p> + “She has understood that her father is just dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Put her into a hackney coach, and simply take her to Charenton; I will + write a note to the Commissioner-General of Police to secure her being + suitably provided for.—The daughter in Charenton, the father in a + pauper’s grave!” said Corentin—“Contenson, go and fetch the parish + hearse. And now, Don Carlos Herrera, you and I will fight it out!” + </p> + <p> + “Carlos?” said Contenson, “he is in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “He is in Paris,” said Corentin positively. “There is a touch of Spanish + genius of the Philip II. type in all this; but I have pitfalls for + everybody, even for kings.” + </p> + <p> + Five days after the nabob’s disappearance, Madame du Val-Noble was sitting + by Esther’s bedside weeping, for she felt herself on one of the slopes + down to poverty. + </p> + <p> + “If I only had at least a hundred louis a year! With that sum, my dear, a + woman can retire to some little town and find a husband——” + </p> + <p> + “I can get you as much as that,” said Esther. + </p> + <p> + “How?” cried Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in a very simple way. Listen. You must plan to kill yourself; play + your part well. Send for Asie and offer her ten thousand francs for two + black beads of very thin glass containing a poison which kills you in a + second. Bring them to me, and I will give you fifty thousand francs for + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not ask her for them yourself?” said her friend. + </p> + <p> + “Asie would not sell them to me.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not for yourself?” asked Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “You! who live in the midst of pleasure and luxury, in a house of your + own? And on the eve of an entertainment which will be the talk of Paris + for ten years—which is to cost Nucingen twenty thousand francs! + There are to be strawberries in mid-February, they say, asparagus, grapes, + melons!—and a thousand crowns’ worth of flowers in the rooms.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about? There are a thousand crowns’ worth of roses + on the stairs alone.” + </p> + <p> + “And your gown is said to have cost ten thousand francs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is of Brussels point, and Delphine, his wife, is furious. But I + had a fancy to be disguised as a bride.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are the ten thousand francs?” asked Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + “It is all the ready money I have,” said Esther, smiling. “Open my table + drawer; it is under the curl-papers.” + </p> + <p> + “People who talk of dying never kill themselves,” said Madame du + Val-Noble. “If it were to commit——” + </p> + <p> + “A crime? For shame!” said Esther, finishing her friend’s thought, as she + hesitated. “Be quite easy, I have no intention of killing anybody. I had a + friend—a very happy woman; she is dead, I must follow her—that + is all.” + </p> + <p> + “How foolish!” + </p> + <p> + “How can I help it? I promised her I would.” + </p> + <p> + “I should let that bill go dishonored,” said her friend, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Do as I tell you, and go at once. I hear a carriage coming. It is + Nucingen, a man who will go mad with joy! Yes, he loves me!—Why do + we not love those who love us, for indeed they do all they can to please + us?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that is the question!” said Madame du Val-Noble. “It is the old story + of the herring, which is the most puzzling fish that swims.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no one could ever find out.” + </p> + <p> + “Get along, my dear!—I must ask for your fifty thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye then.” + </p> + <p> + For three days past, Esther’s ways with the Baron de Nucingen had + completely changed. The monkey had become a cat, the cat had become a + woman. Esther poured out treasures of affection on the old man; she was + quite charming. Her way of addressing him, with a total absence of + mischief or bitterness, and all sorts of tender insinuation, had carried + conviction to the banker’s slow wit; she called him Fritz, and he believed + that she loved him. + </p> + <p> + “My poor Fritz, I have tried you sorely,” said she. “I have teased you + shamefully. Your patience has been sublime. You loved me, I see, and I + will reward you. I like you now, I do not know how it is, but I should + prefer you to a young man. It is the result of experience perhaps.—In + the long run we discover at last that pleasure is the coin of the soul; + and it is not more flattering to be loved for the sake of pleasure than it + is to be loved for the sake of money. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, young men are too selfish; they think more of themselves than of + us; while you, now, think only of me. I am all your life to you. And I + will take nothing more from you. I want to prove to you how disinterested + I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Vy, I hafe gifen you notink,” cried the Baron, enchanted. “I propose to + gife you to-morrow tirty tousant francs a year in a Government bond. Dat + is mein vedding gift.” + </p> + <p> + Esther kissed the Baron so sweetly that he turned pale without any pills. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried she, “do not suppose that I am sweet to you only for your + thirty thousand francs! It is because—now—I love you, my good, + fat Frederic.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, mein Gott! Vy hafe you kept me vaiting? I might hafe been so happy + all dese tree monts.” + </p> + <p> + “In three or in five per cents, my pet?” said Esther, passing her fingers + through Nucingen’s hair, and arranging it in a fashion of her own. + </p> + <p> + “In trees—I hat a quantity.” + </p> + <p> + So next morning the Baron brought the certificate of shares; he came to + breakfast with his dear little girl, and to take her orders for the + following evening, the famous Saturday, the great day! + </p> + <p> + “Here, my little vife, my only vife,” said the banker gleefully, his face + radiant with happiness. “Here is enough money to pay for your keep for de + rest of your days.” + </p> + <p> + Esther took the paper without the slightest excitement, folded it up, and + put it in her dressing-table drawer. + </p> + <p> + “So now you are quite happy, you monster of iniquity!” said she, giving + Nucingen a little slap on the cheek, “now that I have at last accepted a + present from you. I can no longer tell you home-truths, for I share the + fruit of what you call your labors. This is not a gift, my poor old boy, + it is restitution.—Come, do not put on your Bourse face. You know + that I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “My lofely Esther, mein anchel of lofe,” said the banker, “do not speak to + me like dat. I tell you, I should not care ven all de vorld took me for a + tief, if you should tink me ein honest man.—I lofe you every day + more and more.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my intention,” said Esther. “And I will never again say anything + to distress you, my pet elephant, for you are grown as artless as a baby. + Bless me, you old rascal, you have never known any innocence; the + allowance bestowed on you when you came into the world was bound to come + to the top some day; but it was buried so deep that it is only now + reappearing at the age of sixty-six. Fished up by love’s barbed hook.—This + phenomenon is seen in old men. + </p> + <p> + “And this is why I have learned to love you, you are young—so young! + No one but I would ever have known this, Frederic—I alone. For you + were a banker at fifteen; even at college you must have lent your + school-fellows one marble on condition of their returning two.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing him laugh, she sprang on to his knee. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you must do as you please! Bless me! plunder the men—go + ahead, and I will help. Men are not worth loving; Napoleon killed them off + like flies. Whether they pay taxes to you or to the Government, what + difference does it make to them? You don’t make love over the budget, and + on my honor!—go ahead, I have thought it over, and you are right. + Shear the sheep! you will find it in the gospel according to Beranger. + </p> + <p> + “Now, kiss your Esther.—I say, you will give that poor Val-Noble all + the furniture in the Rue Taitbout? And to-morrow I wish you would give her + fifty thousand francs—it would look handsome, my duck. You see, you + killed Falleix; people are beginning to cry out upon you, and this + liberality will look Babylonian—all the women will talk about it! + Oh! there will be no one in Paris so grand, so noble as you; and as the + world is constituted, Falleix will be forgotten. So, after all, it will be + money deposited at interest.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, mein anchel; you know the vorld,” he replied. “You shall + be mein adfiser.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” said Esther, “how I study my man’s interest, his position + and honor.—Go at once and bring those fifty thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + She wanted to get rid of Monsieur de Nucingen so as to get a stockbroker + to sell the bond that very afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “But vy dis minute?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, my sweetheart, you must give it to her in a little satin box + wrapped round a fan. You must say, ‘Here, madame, is a fan which I hope + may be to your taste.’—You are supposed to be a Turcaret, and you + will become a Beaujon.” + </p> + <p> + “Charming, charming!” cried the Baron. “I shall be so clever henceforth.—Yes, + I shall repeat your vorts.” + </p> + <p> + Just as Esther had sat down, tired with the effort of playing her part, + Europe came in. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said she, “here is a messenger sent from the Quai Malaquais by + Celestin, M. Lucien’s servant——” + </p> + <p> + “Bring him in—no, I will go into the ante-room.” + </p> + <p> + “He has a letter for you, madame, from Celestin.” + </p> + <p> + Esther rushed into the ante-room, looked at the messenger, and saw that he + looked like the genuine thing. + </p> + <p> + “Tell <i>him</i> to come down,” said Esther, in a feeble voice and + dropping into a chair after reading the letter. “Lucien means to kill + himself,” she added in a whisper to Europe. “No, take the letter up to + him.” + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera, still in his disguise as a bagman, came downstairs at + once, and keenly scrutinized the messenger on seeing a stranger in the + ante-room. + </p> + <p> + “You said there was no one here,” said he in a whisper to Europe. + </p> + <p> + And with an excess of prudence, after looking at the messenger, he went + straight into the drawing-room. <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> did not know that + for some time past the famous constable of the detective force who had + arrested him at the Maison Vauquer had a rival, who, it was supposed, + would replace him. This rival was the messenger. + </p> + <p> + “They are right,” said the sham messenger to Contenson, who was waiting + for him in the street. “The man you describe is in the house; but he is + not a Spaniard, and I will burn my hand off if there is not a bird for our + net under that priest’s gown.” + </p> + <p> + “He is no more a priest than he is a Spaniard,” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of that,” said the detective. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if only we were right!” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + Lucien had been away for two days, and advantage had been taken of his + absence to lay this snare, but he returned this evening, and the + courtesan’s anxieties were allayed. Next morning, at the hour when Esther, + having taken a bath, was getting into bed again, Madame du Val-Noble + arrived. + </p> + <p> + “I have the two pills!” said her friend. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see,” said Esther, raising herself with her pretty elbow buried in + a pillow trimmed with lace. + </p> + <p> + Madame du Val-Noble held out to her what looked like two black currants. + </p> + <p> + The Baron had given Esther a pair of greyhounds of famous pedigree, which + will be always known by the name of the great contemporary poet who made + them fashionable; and Esther, proud of owning them, had called them by the + names of their parents, Romeo and Juliet. No need here to describe the + whiteness and grace of these beasts, trained for the drawing-room, with + manners suggestive of English propriety. Esther called Romeo; Romeo ran up + on legs so supple and thin, so strong and sinewy, that they seemed like + steel springs, and looked up at his mistress. Esther, to attract his + attention, pretended to throw one of the pills. + </p> + <p> + “He is doomed by his nature to die thus,” said she, as she threw the pill, + which Romeo crushed between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + The dog made no sound, he rolled over, and was stark dead. It was all over + while Esther spoke these words of epitaph. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” shrieked Madame du Val-Noble. + </p> + <p> + “You have a cab waiting. Carry away the departed Romeo,” said Esther. “His + death would make a commotion here. I have given him to you, and you have + lost him—advertise for him. Make haste; you will have your fifty + thousand francs this evening.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke so calmly, so entirely with the cold indifference of a + courtesan, that Madame du Val-Noble exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You are the Queen of us all!” + </p> + <p> + “Come early, and look very well——” + </p> + <p> + At five o’clock Esther dressed herself as a bride. She put on her lace + dress over white satin, she had a white sash, white satin shoes, and a + scarf of English point lace over her beautiful shoulders. In her hair she + placed white camellia flowers, the simple ornament of an innocent girl. On + her bosom lay a pearl necklace worth thirty thousand francs, a gift from + Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + Though she was dressed by six, she refused to see anybody, even the + banker. Europe knew that Lucien was to be admitted to her room. Lucien + came at about seven, and Europe managed to get him up to her mistress + without anybody knowing of his arrival. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, as he looked at her, said to himself, “Why not go and live with + her at Rubempre, far from the world, and never see Paris again? I have an + earnest of five years of her life, and the dear creature is one of those + who never belie themselves! Where can I find such another perfect + masterpiece?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you whom I have made my God,” said Esther, kneeling down on a + cushion in front of Lucien, “give me your blessing.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien tried to raise her and kiss her, saying, “What is this jest, my + dear love?” And he would have put his arm round her, but she freed herself + with a gesture as much of respect as of horror. + </p> + <p> + “I am no longer worthy of you, Lucien,” said she, letting the tears rise + to her eyes. “I implore you, give me your blessing, and swear to me that + you will found two beds at the Hotel-Dieu—for, as to prayers in + church, God will never forgive me unless I pray myself. + </p> + <p> + “I have loved you too well, my dear. Tell me that I made you happy, and + that you will sometimes think of me.—Tell me that!” + </p> + <p> + Lucien saw that Esther was solemnly in earnest, and he sat thinking. + </p> + <p> + “You mean to kill yourself,” said he at last, in a tone of voice that + revealed deep reflection. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she. “But to-day, my dear, the woman dies, the pure, chaste, + and loving woman who once was yours.—And I am very much afraid that + I shall die of grief.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child,” said Lucien, “wait! I have worked hard these two days. I + have succeeded in seeing Clotilde——” + </p> + <p> + “Always Clotilde!” cried Esther, in a tone of concentrated rage. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, “we have written to each other.—On Tuesday morning + she is to set out for Italy, but I shall meet her on the road for an + interview at Fontainebleau.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! what is it that you men want for wives? Wooden laths?” cried + poor Esther. “If I had seven or eight millions, would you not marry me—come + now?” + </p> + <p> + “Child! I was going to say that if all is over for me, I will have no wife + but you.” + </p> + <p> + Esther bent her head to hide her sudden pallor and the tears she wiped + away. + </p> + <p> + “You love me?” said she, looking at Lucien with the deepest melancholy. + “Well, that is my sufficient blessing.—Do not compromise yourself. + Go away by the side door, and come in to the drawing-room through the + ante-room. Kiss me on the forehead.” + </p> + <p> + She threw her arms round Lucien, clasped him to her heart with frenzy, and + said again: + </p> + <p> + “Go, only go—or I must live.” + </p> + <p> + When the doomed woman appeared in the drawing-room, there was a cry of + admiration. Esther’s eyes expressed infinitude in which the soul sank as + it looked into them. Her blue-black and beautiful hair set off the + camellias. In short, this exquisite creature achieved all the effects she + had intended. She had no rival. She looked like the supreme expression of + that unbridled luxury which surrounded her in every form. Then she was + brilliantly witty. She ruled the orgy with the cold, calm power that + Habeneck displays when conducting at the Conservatoire, at those concerts + where the first musicians in Europe rise to the sublime in interpreting + Mozart and Beethoven. + </p> + <p> + But she observed with terror that Nucingen ate little, drank nothing, and + was quite the master of the house. + </p> + <p> + By midnight everybody was crazy. The glasses were broken that they might + never be used again; two of the Chinese curtains were torn; Bixiou was + drunk, for the second time in his life. No one could keep his feet, the + women were asleep on the sofas, and the guests were incapable of carrying + out the practical joke they had planned of escorting Esther and Nucingen + to the bedroom, standing in two lines with candles in their hands, and + singing <i>Buona sera</i> from the <i>Barber of Seville</i>. + </p> + <p> + Nucingen simply gave Esther his hand. Bixiou, who saw them, though tipsy, + was still able to say, like Rivarol, on the occasion of the Duc de + Richelieu’s last marriage, “The police must be warned; there is mischief + brewing here.” + </p> + <p> + The jester thought he was jesting; he was a prophet. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Nucingen did not go home till Monday at about noon. But at one + o’clock his broker informed him that Mademoiselle Esther van Bogseck had + sold the bond bearing thirty thousand francs interest on Friday last, and + had just received the money. + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur le Baron, Derville’s head-clerk called on me just as I was + settling this transfer; and after seeing Mademoiselle Esther’s real names, + he told me she had come into a fortune of seven millions.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is the only heir to the old bill-discounter Gobseck.—Derville + will verify the facts. If your mistress’ mother was the handsome Dutch + woman, <i>la Belle Hollandaise</i>, as they called her, she comes in for——” + </p> + <p> + “I know dat she is,” cried the banker. “She tolt me all her life. I shall + write ein vort to Derville.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron at down at his desk, wrote a line to Derville, and sent it by + one of his servants. Then, after going to the Bourse, he went back to + Esther’s house at about three o’clock. + </p> + <p> + “Madame forbade our waking her on any pretence whatever. She is in bed—asleep——” + </p> + <p> + “Ach der Teufel!” said the Baron. “But, Europe, she shall not be angry to + be tolt that she is fery, fery rich. She shall inherit seven millions. Old + Gobseck is deat, and your mis’ess is his sole heir, for her moter vas + Gobseck’s own niece; and besides, he shall hafe left a vill. I could never + hafe tought that a millionaire like dat man should hafe left Esther in + misery!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! Then your reign is over, old pantaloon!” said Europe, looking at + the Baron with an effrontery worthy of one of Moliere’s waiting-maids. + “Shooh! you old Alsatian crow! She loves you as we love the plague! + Heavens above us! Millions!—Why, she may marry her lover; won’t she + be glad!” + </p> + <p> + And Prudence Servien left the Baron simply thunder-stricken, to be the + first to announce to her mistress this great stroke of luck. The old man, + intoxicated with superhuman enjoyment, and believing himself happy, had + just received a cold shower-bath on his passion at the moment when it had + risen to the intensest white heat. + </p> + <p> + “She vas deceiving me!” cried he, with tears in his eyes. “Yes, she vas + cheating me. Oh, Esther, my life! Vas a fool hafe I been! Can such flowers + ever bloom for de old men! I can buy all vat I vill except only yout!—Ach + Gott, ach Gott! Vat shall I do! Vat shall become of me!—She is + right, dat cruel Europe. Esther, if she is rich, shall not be for me. + Shall I go hank myself? Vat is life midout de divine flame of joy dat I + have known? Mein Gott, mein Gott!” + </p> + <p> + The old man snatched off the false hair he had combed in with his gray + hairs these three months past. + </p> + <p> + A piercing shriek from Europe made Nucingen quail to his very bowels. The + poor banker rose and walked upstairs on legs that were drunk with the bowl + of disenchantment he had just swallowed to the dregs, for nothing is more + intoxicating than the wine of disaster. + </p> + <p> + At the door of her room he could see Esther stiff on her bed, blue with + poison—dead! + </p> + <p> + He went up to the bed and dropped on his knees. + </p> + <p> + “You are right! She tolt me so!—She is dead—of me——” + </p> + <p> + Paccard, Asie, every one hurried in. It was a spectacle, a shock, but not + despair. Every one had their doubts. The Baron was a banker again. A + suspicion crossed his mind, and he was so imprudent as to ask what had + become of the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs, the price of the + bond. Paccard, Asie, and Europe looked at each other so strangely that + Monsieur de Nucingen left the house at once, believing that robbery and + murder had been committed. Europe, detecting a packet of soft consistency, + betraying the contents to be banknotes, under her mistress’ pillow, + proceeded at once to “lay her out,” as she said. + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell monsieur, Asie!—Oh, to die before she knew that she had + seven millions! Gobseck was poor madame’s uncle!” said she. + </p> + <p> + Europe’s stratagem was understood by Paccard. As soon as Asie’s back was + turned, Europe opened the packet, on which the hapless courtesan had + written: “To be delivered to Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre.” + </p> + <p> + Seven hundred and fifty thousand-franc notes shone in the eyes of Prudence + Servien, who exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Won’t we be happy and honest for the rest of our lives!” + </p> + <p> + Paccard made no objection. His instincts as a thief were stronger than his + attachment to <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Durut is dead,” he said at length; “my shoulder is still a proof before + letters. Let us be off together; divide the money, so as not to have all + our eggs in one basket, and then get married.” + </p> + <p> + “But where can we hide?” said Prudence. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris,” replied Paccard. + </p> + <p> + Prudence and Paccard went off at once, with the promptitude of two honest + folks transformed into robbers. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said Carlos to Asie, as soon as she had said three words, + “find some letter of Esther’s while I write a formal will, and then take + the copy and the letter to Girard; but he must be quick. The will must be + under Esther’s pillow before the lawyers affix the seals here.” + </p> + <p> + And he wrote out the following will:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Never having loved any one on earth but Monsieur Lucien Chardon + de Rubempre, and being resolved to end my life rather than relapse + into vice and the life of infamy from which he rescued me, I give + and bequeath to the said Lucien Chardon de Rubempre all I may + possess at the time of my decease, on condition of his founding a + mass in perpetuity in the parish church of Saint-Roch for the + repose of her who gave him her all, to her last thought. + + “ESTHER GOBSECK.” + </pre> + <p> + “That is quite in her style,” thought <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. + </p> + <p> + By seven in the evening this document, written and sealed, was placed by + Asie under Esther’s bolster. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques,” said she, flying upstairs again, “just as I came out of the + room justice marched in——” + </p> + <p> + “The justice of the peace you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my son. The justice of the peace was there, but he had gendarmes with + him. The public prosecutor and the examining judge are there too, and the + doors are guarded.” + </p> + <p> + “This death has made a stir very quickly,” remarked Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and Paccard and Europe have vanished; I am afraid they may have + scared away the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs,” said Asie. + </p> + <p> + “The low villains!” said Collin. “They have done for us by their swindling + game.” + </p> + <p> + Human justice, and Paris justice, that is to say, the most suspicious, + keenest, cleverest, and omniscient type of justice—too clever, + indeed, for it insists on interpreting the law at every turn—was at + last on the point of laying its hand on the agents of this horrible + intrigue. + </p> + <p> + The Baron of Nucingen, on recognizing the evidence of poison, and failing + to find his seven hundred and fifty thousand francs, imagined that one of + two persons whom he greatly disliked—either Paccard or Europe—was + guilty of the crime. In his first impulse of rage he flew to the + prefecture of police. This was a stroke of a bell that called up all + Corentin’s men. The officials of the prefecture, the legal profession, the + chief of the police, the justice of the peace, the examining judge,—all + were astir. By nine in the evening three medical men were called in to + perform an autopsy on poor Esther, and inquiries were set on foot. + </p> + <p> + <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, warned by Asie, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “No one knows that I am here; I may take an airing.” He pulled himself up + by the skylight of his garret, and with marvelous agility was standing in + an instant on the roof, whence he surveyed the surroundings with the + coolness of a tiler. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said he, discerning a garden five houses off in the Rue de + Provence, “that will just do for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are paid out, <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>,” said Contenson, suddenly + emerging from behind a stack of chimneys. “You may explain to Monsieur + Camusot what mass you were performing on the roof, Monsieur l’Abbe, and, + above all, why you were escaping——” + </p> + <p> + “I have enemies in Spain,” said Carlos Herrera. + </p> + <p> + “We can go there by way of your attic,” said Contenson. + </p> + <p> + The sham Spaniard pretended to yield; but, having set his back and feet + across the opening of the skylight, he gripped Contenson and flung him off + with such violence that the spy fell in the gutter of the Rue + Saint-Georges. + </p> + <p> + Contenson was dead on his field of honor; Jacques Collin quietly dropped + into the room again and went to bed. + </p> + <p> + “Give me something that will make me very sick without killing me,” said + he to Asie; “for I must be at death’s door, to avoid answering inquisitive + persons. I have just got rid of a man in the most natural way, who might + have unmasked me.” + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock on the previous evening Lucien had set out in his own + chaise to post to Fontainebleau with a passport he had procured in the + morning; he slept in the nearest inn on the Nemours side. At six in the + morning he went alone, and on foot, through the forest as far as Bouron. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said he to himself, as he sat down on one of the rocks that + command the fine landscape of Bouron, “is the fatal spot where Napoleon + dreamed of making a final tremendous effort on the eve of his abdication.” + </p> + <p> + At daybreak he heard the approach of post-horses and saw a britska drive + past, in which sat the servants of the Duchesse de Lenoncourt-Chaulieu and + Clotilde de Grandlieu’s maid. + </p> + <p> + “Here they are!” thought Lucien. “Now, to play the farce well, and I shall + be saved!—the Duc de Grandlieu’s son-in-law in spite of him!” + </p> + <p> + It was an hour later when he heard the peculiar sound made by a superior + traveling carriage, as the berline came near in which two ladies were + sitting. They had given orders that the drag should be put on for the hill + down to Bouron, and the man-servant behind the carriage had it stopped. + </p> + <p> + At this instant Lucien came forward. + </p> + <p> + “Clotilde!” said he, tapping on the window. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the young Duchess to her friend, “he shall not get into the + carriage, and we will not be alone with him, my dear. Speak to him for the + last time—to that I consent; but on the road, where we will walk on, + and where Baptiste can escort us.—The morning is fine, we are well + wrapped up, and have no fear of the cold. The carriage can follow.” + </p> + <p> + The two women got out. + </p> + <p> + “Baptiste,” said the Duchess, “the post-boy can follow slowly; we want to + walk a little way. You must keep near us.” + </p> + <p> + Madeleine de Mortsauf took Clotilde by the arm and allowed Lucien to talk. + They thus walked on as far as the village of Grez. It was now eight + o’clock, and there Clotilde dismissed Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my friend,” said she, closing this long interview with much + dignity, “I never shall marry any one but you. I would rather believe in + you than in other men, in my father and mother—no woman ever gave + greater proof of attachment surely?—Now, try to counteract the fatal + prejudices which militate against you.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the tramp of galloping horses was heard, and, to the great + amazement of the ladies, a force of gendarmes surrounded the little party. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” said Lucien, with the arrogance of a dandy. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre?” asked the public prosecutor of + Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “You will spend to-night in La Force,” said he. “I have a warrant for the + detention of your person.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are these ladies?” asked the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure.—Excuse me, ladies—your passports? For Monsieur + Lucien, as I am instructed, had acquaintances among the fair sex, who for + him would——” + </p> + <p> + “Do you take the Duchesse de Lenoncourt-Chaulieu for a prostitute?” said + Madeleine, with a magnificent flash at the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “You are handsome enough to excuse the error,” the magistrate very + cleverly retorted. + </p> + <p> + “Baptiste, produce the passports,” said the young Duchess with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “And with what crime is Monsieur de Rubempre charged?” asked Clotilde, + whom the Duchess wished to see safe in the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Of being accessory to a robbery and murder,” replied the sergeant of + gendarmes. + </p> + <p> + Baptiste lifted Mademoiselle de Grandlieu into the chaise in a dead faint. + </p> + <p> + By midnight Lucien was entering La Force, a prison situated between the + Rue Payenne and the Rue des Ballets, where he was placed in solitary + confinement. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Carlos Herrera was also there, having been arrested that evening. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE END OF EVIL WAYS +</pre> + <p> + At six o’clock next morning two vehicles with postilions, prison vans, + called in the vigorous language of the populace, <i>paniers a salade</i>, + came out of La Force to drive to the Conciergerie by the Palais de + Justice. + </p> + <p> + Few loafers in Paris can have failed to meet this prison cell on wheels; + still, though most stories are written for Parisian readers, strangers + will no doubt be satisfied to have a description of this formidable + machine. Who knows? A police of Russia, Germany, or Austria, the legal + body of countries to whom the “Salad-basket” is an unknown machine, may + profit by it; and in several foreign countries there can be no doubt that + an imitation of this vehicle would be a boon to prisoners. + </p> + <p> + This ignominious conveyance, yellow-bodied, on high wheels, and lined with + sheet-iron, is divided into two compartments. In front is a box-seat, with + leather cushions and an apron. This is the free seat of the van, and + accommodates a sheriff’s officer and a gendarme. A strong iron trellis, + reaching to the top, separates this sort of cab-front from the back + division, in which there are two wooden seats placed sideways, as in an + omnibus, on which the prisoners sit. They get in by a step behind and a + door, with no window. The nickname of Salad-basket arose from the fact + that the vehicle was originally made entirely of lattice, and the + prisoners were shaken in it just as a salad is shaken to dry it. + </p> + <p> + For further security, in case of accident, a mounted gendarme follows the + machine, especially when it conveys criminals condemned to death to the + place of execution. Thus escape is impossible. The vehicle, lined with + sheet-iron, is impervious to any tool. The prisoners, carefully searched + when they are arrested or locked up, can have nothing but watch-springs, + perhaps, to file through bars, and useless on a smooth surface. + </p> + <p> + So the <i>panier a salade</i>, improved by the genius of the Paris police, + became the model for the prison omnibus (known in London as “Black Maria”) + in which convicts are transported to the hulks, instead of the horrible + tumbril which formerly disgraced civilization, though Manon Lescaut had + made it famous. + </p> + <p> + The accused are, in the first instance, despatched in the prison van from + the various prisons in Paris to the Palais de Justice, to be questioned by + the examining judge. This, in prison slang, is called “going up for + examination.” Then the accused are again conveyed from prison to the Court + to be sentenced when their case is only a misdemeanor; or if, in legal + parlance, the case is one for the Upper Court, they are transferred from + the house of detention to the Conciergerie, the “Newgate” of the + Department of the Seine. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the prison van carries the criminal condemned to death from + Bicetre to the Barriere Saint-Jacques, where executions are carried out, + and have been ever since the Revolution of July. Thanks to philanthropic + interference, the poor wretches no longer have to face the horrors of the + drive from the Conciergerie to the Place de Greve in a cart exactly like + that used by wood merchants. This cart is no longer used but to bring the + body back from the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + Without this explanation the words of a famous convict to his accomplice, + “It is now the horse’s business!” as he got into the van, would be + unintelligible. It is impossible to be carried to execution more + comfortably than in Paris nowadays. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the two vans, setting out at such an early hour, were + employed on the unwonted service of conveying two accused prisoners from + the jail of La Force to the Conciergerie, and each man had a + “Salad-basket” to himself. + </p> + <p> + Nine-tenths of my readers, ay, and nine-tenths of the remaining tenth, are + certainly ignorant of the vast difference of meaning in the words + incriminated, suspected, accused, and committed for trial—jail, + house of detention, and penitentiary; and they may be surprised to learn + here that it involves all our criminal procedure, of which a clear and + brief outline will presently be sketched, as much for their information as + for the elucidation of this history. However, when it is said that the + first van contained Jacques Collin and the second Lucien, who in a few + hours had fallen from the summit of social splendor to the depths of a + prison cell, curiosity will for the moment be satisfied. + </p> + <p> + The conduct of the two accomplices was characteristic; Lucien de Rubempre + shrank back to avoid the gaze of the passers-by, who looked at the grated + window of the gloomy and fateful vehicle on its road along the Rue + Saint-Antoine and the Rue du Martroi to reach the quay and the Arch of + Saint-Jean, the way, at that time, across the Place de l’Hotel de Ville. + This archway now forms the entrance gate to the residence of the Prefet de + la Seine in the huge municipal palace. The daring convict, on the + contrary, stuck his face against the barred grating, between the officer + and the gendarme, who, sure of their van, were chatting together. + </p> + <p> + The great days of July 1830, and the tremendous storm that then burst, + have so completely wiped out the memory of all previous events, and + politics so entirely absorbed the French during the last six months of + that year, that no one remembers—or a few scarcely remember—the + various private, judicial, and financial catastrophes, strange as they + were, which, forming the annual flood of Parisian curiosity, were not + lacking during the first six months of the year. It is, therefore, needful + to mention how Paris was, for the moment, excited by the news of the + arrest of a Spanish priest, discovered in a courtesan’s house, and that of + the elegant Lucien de Rubempre, who had been engaged to Mademoiselle + Clotilde de Grandlieu, taken on the highroad to Italy, close to the little + village of Grez. Both were charged as being concerned in a murder, of + which the profits were stated at seven millions of francs; and for some + days the scandal of this trial preponderated over the absorbing importance + of the last elections held under Charles X. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, the charge had been based on an application by the + Baron de Nucingen; then, Lucien’s apprehension, just as he was about to be + appointed private secretary to the Prime Minister, made a stir in the very + highest circles of society. In every drawing-room in Paris more than one + young man could recollect having envied Lucien when he was honored by the + notice of the beautiful Duchesse de Maufrigneuse; and every woman knew + that he was the favored attache of Madame de Serizy, the wife of one of + the Government bigwigs. And finally, his handsome person gave him a + singular notoriety in the various worlds that make up Paris—the + world of fashion, the financial world, the world of courtesans, the young + men’s world, the literary world. So for two days past all Paris had been + talking of these two arrests. The examining judge in whose hands the case + was put regarded it as a chance for promotion; and, to proceed with the + utmost rapidity, he had given orders that both the accused should be + transferred from La Force to the Conciergerie as soon as Lucien de + Rubempre could be brought from Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + As the Abbe Carlos had spent but twelve hours in La Force, and Lucien only + half a night, it is useless to describe that prison, which has since been + entirely remodeled; and as to the details of their consignment, it would + be only a repetition of the same story at the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + But before setting forth the terrible drama of a criminal inquiry, it is + indispensable, as I have said, that an account should be given of the + ordinary proceedings in a case of this kind. To begin with, its various + phases will be better understood at home and abroad, and, besides, those + who are ignorant of the action of the criminal law, as conceived of by the + lawgivers under Napoleon, will appreciate it better. This is all the more + important as, at this moment, this great and noble institution is in + danger of destruction by the system known as penitentiary. + </p> + <p> + A crime is committed; if it is flagrant, the persons incriminated + (inculpes) are taken to the nearest lock-up and placed in the cell known + to the vulgar as the Violon—perhaps because they make a noise there, + shrieking or crying. From thence the suspected persons (inculpes) are + taken before the police commissioner or magistrate, who holds a + preliminary inquiry, and can dismiss the case if there is any mistake; + finally, they are conveyed to the Depot of the Prefecture, where the + police detains them pending the convenience of the public prosecutor and + the examining judge. They, being served with due notice, more or less + quickly, according to the gravity of the case, come and examine the + prisoners who are still provisionally detained. Having due regard to the + presumptive evidence, the examining judge then issues a warrant for their + imprisonment, and sends the suspected persons to be confined in a jail. + There are three such jails (Maisons d’Arret) in Paris—Sainte-Pelagie, + La Force, and les Madelonettes. + </p> + <p> + Observe the word inculpe, incriminated, or suspected of crime. The French + Code has created three essential degrees of criminality—inculpe, + first degree of suspicion; prevenu, under examination; accuse, fully + committed for trial. So long as the warrant for committal remains + unsigned, the supposed criminal is regarded as merely under suspicion, + inculpe of the crime or felony; when the warrant has been issued, he + becomes “the accused” (prevenu), and is regarded as such so long as the + inquiry is proceeding; when the inquiry is closed, and as soon as the + Court has decided that the accused is to be committed for trial, he + becomes “the prisoner at the bar” (accuse) as soon as the superior court, + at the instance of the public prosecutor, has pronounced that the charge + is so far proved as to be carried to the Assizes. + </p> + <p> + Thus, persons suspected of crime go through three different stages, three + siftings, before coming up for trial before the judges of the upper Court—the + High Justice of the realm. + </p> + <p> + At the first stage, innocent persons have abundant means of exculpating + themselves—the public, the town watch, the police. At the second + state they appear before a magistrate face to face with the witnesses, and + are judged by a tribunal in Paris, or by the Collective Court of the + departments. At the third stage they are brought before a bench of twelve + councillors, and in case of any error or informality the prisoner + committed for trial at the Assizes may appeal for protection to the + Supreme court. The jury do not know what a slap in the face they give to + popular authority, to administrative and judicial functionaries, when they + acquit a prisoner. And so, in my opinion, it is hardly possible that an + innocent man should ever find himself at the bar of an Assize Court in + Paris—I say nothing of other seats of justice. + </p> + <p> + The detenu is the convict. French criminal law recognizes imprisonment of + three degrees, corresponding in legal distinction to these three degrees + of suspicion, inquiry, and conviction. Mere imprisonment is a light + penalty for misdemeanor, but detention is imprisonment with hard labor, a + severe and sometimes degrading punishment. Hence, those persons who + nowadays are in favor of the penitentiary system would upset an admirable + scheme of criminal law in which the penalties are judiciously graduated, + and they will end by punishing the lightest peccadilloes as severely as + the greatest crimes. + </p> + <p> + The reader may compare in the <i>Scenes of Political Life</i> (for + instance, in Une Tenebreuse affaire) the curious differences subsisting + between the criminal law of Brumaire in the year IV., and that of the Code + Napoleon which has taken its place. + </p> + <p> + In most trials, as in this one, the suspected persons are at once examined + (and from inculpes become prevenus); justice immediately issues a warrant + for their arrest and imprisonment. In point of fact, in most of such cases + the criminals have either fled, or have been instantly apprehended. + Indeed, as we have seen the police, which is but an instrument, and the + officers of justice had descended on Esther’s house with the swiftness of + a thunderbolt. Even if there had not been the reasons for revenge + suggested to the superior police by Corentin, there was a robbery to be + investigated of seven hundred and fifty thousand francs from the Baron de + Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + Just as the first prison van, conveying Jacques Collin, reached the + archway of Saint-Jean—a narrow, dark passage, some block ahead + compelled the postilion to stop under the vault. The prisoner’s eyes shone + like carbuncles through the grating, in spite of his aspect as of a dying + man, which, the day before, had led the governor of La Force to believe + that the doctor must be called in. These flaming eyes, free to rove at + this moment, for neither the officer nor the gendarme looked round at + their “customer,” spoke so plain a language that a clever examining judge, + M. Popinot, for instance, would have identified the man convicted for + sacrilege. + </p> + <p> + In fact, ever since the “salad-basket” had turned out of the gate of La + Force, Jacques Collin had studied everything on his way. Notwithstanding + the pace they had made, he took in the houses with an eager and + comprehensive glance from the ground floor to the attics. He saw and noted + every passer-by. God Himself is not more clear-seeing as to the means and + ends of His creatures than this man in observing the slightest differences + in the medley of things and people. Armed with hope, as the last of the + Horatii was armed with his sword, he expected help. To anybody but this + Machiavelli of the hulks, this hope would have seemed so absolutely + impossible to realize that he would have gone on mechanically, as all + guilty men do. Not one of them ever dreams of resistance when he finds + himself in the position to which justice and the Paris police bring + suspected persons, especially those who, like Collin and Lucien, are in + solitary confinement. + </p> + <p> + It is impossible to conceive of the sudden isolation in which a suspected + criminal is placed. The gendarmes who apprehend him, the commissioner who + questions him, those who take him to prison, the warders who lead him to + his cell—which is actually called a cachot, a dungeon or + hiding-place, those again who take him by the arms to put him into a + prison-van—every being that comes near him from the moment of his + arrest is either speechless, or takes note of all he says, to be repeated + to the police or to the judge. This total severance, so simply effected + between the prisoner and the world, gives rise to a complete overthrow of + his faculties and a terrible prostration of mind, especially when the man + has not been familiarized by his antecedents with the processes of + justice. The duel between the judge and the criminal is all the more + appalling because justice has on its side the dumbness of blank walls and + the incorruptible coldness of its agents. + </p> + <p> + But Jacques Collin, or Carlos Herrera—it will be necessary to speak + of him by one or the other of these names according to the circumstances + of the case—had long been familiar with the methods of the police, + of the jail, and of justice. This colossus of cunning and corruption had + employed all his powers of mind, and all the resources of mimicry, to + affect the surprise and anility of an innocent man, while giving the + lawyers the spectacle of his sufferings. As has been told, Asie, that + skilled Locusta, had given him a dose of poison so qualified as to produce + the effects of a dreadful illness. + </p> + <p> + Thus Monsieur Camusot, the police commissioner, and the public prosecutor + had been baffled in their proceedings and inquiries by the effects + apparently of an apoplectic attack. + </p> + <p> + “He has taken poison!” cried Monsieur Camusot, horrified by the sufferings + of the self-styled priest when he had been carried down from the attic + writhing in convulsions. + </p> + <p> + Four constables had with great difficulty brought the Abbe Carlos + downstairs to Esther’s room, where the lawyers and the gendarmes were + assembled. + </p> + <p> + “That was the best thing he could do if he should be guilty,” replied the + public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that he is ill?” the police commissioner asked. + </p> + <p> + The police is always incredulous. + </p> + <p> + The three lawyers had spoken, as may be imagined, in a whisper; but + Jacques Collin had guessed from their faces the subject under discussion, + and had taken advantage of it to make the first brief examination which is + gone through on arrest absolutely impossible and useless; he had stammered + out sentences in which Spanish and French were so mingled as to make + nonsense. + </p> + <p> + At La Force this farce had been all the more successful in the first + instance because the head of the “safety” force—an abbreviation of + the title “Head of the brigade of the guardians of public safety”—Bibi-Lupin, + who had long since taken Jacques Collin into custody at Madame Vauquer’s + boarding-house, had been sent on special business into the country, and + his deputy was a man who hoped to succeed him, but to whom the convict was + unknown. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin, himself formerly a convict, and a comrade of Jacques Collin’s + on the hulks, was his personal enemy. This hostility had its rise in + quarrels in which Jacques Collin had always got the upper hand, and in the + supremacy over his fellow-prisoners which <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> had always + assumed. And then, for ten years now, Jacques Collin had been the ruling + providence of released convicts in Paris, their head, their adviser, and + their banker, and consequently Bibi-Lupin’s antagonist. + </p> + <p> + Thus, though placed in solitary confinement, he trusted to the intelligent + and unreserved devotion of Asie, his right hand, and perhaps, too, to + Paccard, his left hand, who, as he flattered himself, might return to his + allegiance when once that thrifty subaltern had safely bestowed the seven + hundred and fifty thousand francs that he had stolen. This was the reason + why his attention had been so superhumanly alert all along the road. And, + strange to say! his hopes were about to be amply fulfilled. + </p> + <p> + The two solid side-walls of the archway were covered, to a height of six + feet, with a permanent dado of mud formed of the splashes from the gutter; + for, in those days, the foot passenger had no protection from the constant + traffic of vehicles and from what was called the kicking of the carts, but + curbstones placed upright at intervals, and much ground away by the naves + of the wheels. More than once a heavy truck had crushed a heedless + foot-passenger under that arch-way. Such indeed Paris remained in many + districts and till long after. This circumstance may give some idea of the + narrowness of the Saint-Jean gate and the ease with which it could be + blocked. If a cab should be coming through from the Place de Greve while a + costermonger-woman was pushing her little truck of apples in from the Rue + du Martroi, a third vehicle of any kind produced difficulties. The + foot-passengers fled in alarm, seeking a corner-stone to protect them from + the old-fashioned axles, which had attained such prominence that a law was + passed at last to reduce their length. + </p> + <p> + When the prison van came in, this passage was blocked by a market woman + with a costermonger’s vegetable cart—one of a type which is all the + more strange because specimens still exist in Paris in spite of the + increasing number of green-grocers’ shops. She was so thoroughly a street + hawker that a Sergeant de Ville, if that particular class of police had + been then in existence, would have allowed her to ply her trade without + inspecting her permit, in spite of a sinister countenance that reeked of + crime. Her head, wrapped in a cheap and ragged checked cotton kerchief, + was horrid with rebellious locks of hair, like the bristles of a wild + boar. Her red and wrinkled neck was disgusting, and her little shawl + failed entirely to conceal a chest tanned brown by the sun, dust, and mud. + Her gown was patchwork; her shoes gaped as though they were grinning at a + face as full of holes as the gown. And what an apron! a plaster would have + been less filthy. This moving and fetid rag must have stunk in the + nostrils of dainty folks ten yards away. Those hands had gleaned a hundred + harvest fields. Either the woman had returned from a German witches’ + Sabbath, or she had come out of a mendicity asylum. But what eyes! what + audacious intelligence, what repressed vitality when the magnetic flash of + her look and of Jacques Collin’s met to exchange a thought! + </p> + <p> + “Get out of the way, you old vermin-trap!” cried the postilion in harsh + tones. + </p> + <p> + “Mind you don’t crush me, you hangman’s apprentice!” she retorted. “Your + cartful is not worth as much as mine.” + </p> + <p> + And by trying to squeeze in between two corner-stones to make way, the + hawker managed to block the passage long enough to achieve her purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Asie!” said Jacques Collin to himself, at once recognizing his + accomplice. “Then all is well.” + </p> + <p> + The post-boy was still exchanging amenities with Asie, and vehicles were + collecting in the Rue du Martroi. + </p> + <p> + “Look out, there—Pecaire fermati. Souni la—Vedrem,” shrieked + old Asie, with the Red-Indian intonations peculiar to these female + costermongers, who disfigure their words in such a way that they are + transformed into a sort onomatopoeia incomprehensible to any but + Parisians. + </p> + <p> + In the confusion in the alley, and among the outcries of all the waiting + drivers, no one paid any heed to this wild yell, which might have been the + woman’s usual cry. But this gibberish, intelligible to Jacques Collin, + sent to his ear in a mongrel language of their own—a mixture of bad + Italian and Provencal—this important news: + </p> + <p> + “Your poor boy is nabbed. I am here to keep an eye on you. We shall meet + again.” + </p> + <p> + In the midst of his joy at having thus triumphed over the police, for he + hoped to be able to keep up communications, Jacques Collin had a blow + which might have killed any other man. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien in custody!” said he to himself. + </p> + <p> + He almost fainted. This news was to him more terrible than the rejection + of his appeal could have been if he had been condemned to death. + </p> + <p> + Now that both the prison vans are rolling along the Quai, the interest of + this story requires that I should add a few words about the Conciergerie, + while they are making their way thither. The Conciergerie, a historical + name—a terrible name,—a still more terrible thing, is + inseparable from the Revolutions of France, and especially those of Paris. + It has known most of our great criminals. But if it is the most + interesting of the buildings of Paris, it is also the least known—least + known to persons of the upper classes; still, in spite of the interest of + this historical digression, it should be as short as the journey of the + prison vans. + </p> + <p> + What Parisian, what foreigner, or what provincial can have failed to + observe the gloomy and mysterious features of the Quai des Lunettes—a + structure of black walls flanked by three round towers with conical roofs, + two of them almost touching each other? This quay, beginning at the Pont + du Change, ends at the Pont Neuf. A square tower—the Clock Tower, or + Tour de l’Horloge, whence the signal was given for the massacre of + Saint-Bartholomew—a tower almost as tall as that of Saint-Jacques de + la Boucherie, shows where the Palais de Justice stands, and forms the + corner of the quay. + </p> + <p> + These four towers and these walls are shrouded in the black winding sheet + which, in Paris, falls on every facade to the north. About half-way along + the quay at a gloomy archway we see the beginning of the private houses + which were built in consequence of the construction of the Pont Neuf in + the reign of Henry IV. The Place Royale was a replica of the Place + Dauphine. The style of architecture is the same, of brick with binding + courses of hewn stone. This archway and the Rue de Harlay are the limit + line of the Palais de Justice on the west. Formerly the Prefecture de + Police, once the residence of the Presidents of Parlement, was a + dependency of the Palace. The Court of Exchequer and Court of Subsidies + completed the Supreme Court of Justice, the Sovereign’s Court. It will be + seen that before the Revolution the Palace enjoyed that isolation which + now again is aimed at. + </p> + <p> + This block, this island of residences and official buildings, in their + midst the Sainte-Chapelle—that priceless jewel of Saint-Louis’ + chaplet—is the sanctuary of Paris, its holy place, its sacred ark. + </p> + <p> + For one thing, this island was at first the whole of the city, for the + plot now forming the Place Dauphine was a meadow attached to the Royal + demesne, where stood a stamping mill for coining money. Hence the name of + Rue de la Monnaie—the street leading to the Pont Neuf. Hence, too, + the name of one of the round towers—the middle one—called the + Tour d’Argent, which would seem to show that money was originally coined + there. The famous mill, to be seen marked in old maps of Paris, may very + likely be more recent than the time when money was coined in the Palace + itself, and was erected, no doubt, for the practice of improved methods in + the art of coining. + </p> + <p> + The first tower, hardly detached from the Tour d’Argent, is the Tour de + Montgomery; the third, and smallest, but the best preserved of the three, + for it still has its battlements, is the Tour Bonbec. + </p> + <p> + The Sainte-Chapelle and its four towers—counting the clock tower as + one—clearly define the precincts; or, as a surveyor would say, the + perimeter of the Palace, as it was from the time of the Merovingians till + the accession of the first race of Valois; but to us, as a result of + certain alterations, this Palace is more especially representative of the + period of Saint-Louis. + </p> + <p> + Charles V. was the first to give the Palace up to the Parlement, then a + new institution, and went to reside in the famous Hotel Saint-Pol, under + the protection of the Bastille. The Palais des Tournelles was subsequently + erected backing on to the Hotel Saint-Pol. Thus, under the later Valois, + the kings came back from the Bastille to the Louvre, which had been their + first stronghold. + </p> + <p> + The original residence of the French kings, the Palace of Saint-Louis, + which has preserved the designation of Le Palais, to indicate the Palace + of palaces, is entirely buried under the Palais de Justice; it forms the + cellars, for it was built, like the Cathedral, in the Seine, and with such + care that the highest floods in the river scarcely cover the lowest steps. + The Quai de l’Horloge covers, twenty feet below the surface, its + foundations of a thousand years old. Carriages run on the level of the + capitals of the solid columns under these towers, and formerly their + appearance must have harmonized with the elegance of the Palace, and have + had a picturesque effect over the water, since to this day those towers + vie in height with the loftiest buildings in Paris. + </p> + <p> + As we look down on this vast capital from the lantern of the Pantheon, the + Palace with the Sainte-Chapelle is still the most monumental of many + monumental buildings. The home of our kings, over which you tread as you + pace the immense hall known as the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>, was a + miracle of architecture; and it is so still to the intelligent eye of the + poet who happens to study it when inspecting the Conciergerie. Alas! for + the Conciergerie has invaded the home of kings. One’s heart bleeds to see + the way in which cells, cupboards, corridors, warders’ rooms, and halls + devoid of light or air, have been hewn out of that beautiful structure in + which Byzantine, Gothic, and Romanesque—the three phases of ancient + art—were harmonized in one building by the architecture of the + twelfth century. + </p> + <p> + This palace is a monumental history of France in the earliest times, just + as Blois is that of a later period. As at Blois you may admire in a single + courtyard the chateau of the Counts of Blois, that of Louis XII., that of + Francis I., that of Gaston; so at the Conciergerie you will find within + the same precincts the stamp of the early races, and, in the + Sainte-Chapelle, the architecture of Saint-Louis. + </p> + <p> + Municipal Council (to you I speak), if you bestow millions, get a poet or + two to assist your architects if you wish to save the cradle of Paris, the + cradle of kings, while endeavoring to endow Paris and the Supreme Court + with a palace worthy of France. It is a matter for study for some years + before beginning the work. Another new prison or two like that of La + Roquette, and the palace of Saint-Louis will be safe. + </p> + <p> + In these days many grievances afflict this vast mass of buildings, buried + under the Palais de Justice and the quay, like some antediluvian creature + in the soil of Montmartre; but the worst affliction is that it is the + Conciergerie. This epigram is intelligible. In the early days of the + monarchy, noble criminals—for the villeins (a word signifying the + peasantry in French and English alike) and the citizens came under the + jurisdiction of the municipality or of their liege lord—the lords of + the greater or the lesser fiefs, were brought before the king and guarded + in the Conciergerie. And as these noble criminals were few, the + Conciergerie was large enough for the king’s prisoners. + </p> + <p> + It is difficult now to be quite certain of the exact site of the original + Conciergerie. However, the kitchens built by Saint-Louis still exist, + forming what is now called the mousetrap; and it is probable that the + original Conciergerie was situated in the place where, till 1825, the + Conciergerie prisons of the Parlement were still in use, under the archway + to the right of the wide outside steps leading to the supreme Court. From + thence, until 1825, condemned criminals were taken to execution. From that + gate came forth all the great criminals, all the victims of political + feeling—the Marechale d’Ancre and the Queen of France, Semblancay + and Malesherbes, Damien and Danton, Desrues and Castaing. + Fouquier-Tinville’s private room, like that of the public prosecutor now, + was so placed that he could see the procession of carts containing the + persons whom the Revolutionary tribunal had sentenced to death. Thus this + man, who had become a sword, could give a last glance at each batch. + </p> + <p> + After 1825, when Monsieur de Peyronnet was Minister, a great change was + made in the Palais. The old entrance to the Conciergerie, where the + ceremonies of registering the criminal and of the last toilet were + performed, was closed and removed to where it now is, between the Tour de + l’Horloge and the Tour de Montgomery, in an inner court entered through an + arched passage. To the left is the “mousetrap,” to the right the prison + gates. The “salad-baskets” can drive into this irregularly shaped + courtyard, can stand there and turn with ease, and in case of a riot find + some protection behind the strong grating of the gate under the arch; + whereas they formerly had no room to move in the narrow space dividing the + outside steps from the right wing of the palace. + </p> + <p> + In our day the Conciergerie, hardly large enough for the prisoners + committed for trial—room being needed for about three hundred, men + and women—no longer receives either suspected or remanded criminals + excepting in rare cases, as, for instance, in these of Jacques Collin and + Lucien. All who are imprisoned there are committed for trial before the + Bench. As an exception criminals of the higher ranks are allowed to + sojourn there, since, being already disgraced by a sentence in open court, + their punishment would be too severe if they served their term of + imprisonment at Melun or at Poissy. Ouvrard preferred to be imprisoned at + the Conciergerie rather than at Sainte-Pelagie. At this moment of writing + Lehon the notary and the Prince de Bergues are serving their time there by + an exercise of leniency which, though arbitrary, is humane. + </p> + <p> + As a rule, suspected criminals, whether they are to be subjected to a + preliminary examination—to “go up,” in the slang of the Courts—or + to appear before the magistrate of the lower Court, are transferred in + prison vans direct to the “mousetraps.” + </p> + <p> + The “mousetraps,” opposite the gate, consist of a certain number of old + cells constructed in the old kitchens of Saint-Louis’ building, whither + prisoners not yet fully committed are brought to await the hour when the + Court sits, or the arrival of the examining judge. The “mousetraps” end on + the north at the quay, on the east at the headquarters of the Municipal + Guard, on the west at the courtyard of the Conciergerie, and on the south + they adjoin a large vaulted hall, formerly, no doubt, the banqueting-room, + but at present disused. + </p> + <p> + Above the “mousetraps” is an inner guardroom with a window commanding the + court of the Conciergerie; this is used by the gendarmerie of the + department, and the stairs lead up to it. When the hour of trial strikes + the sheriffs call the roll of the prisoners, the gendarmes go down, one + for each prisoner, and each gendarme takes a criminal by the arm; and + thus, in couples, they mount the stairs, cross the guardroom, and are led + along the passages to a room contiguous to the hall where sits the famous + sixth chamber of the law (whose functions are those of an English county + court). The same road is trodden by the prisoners committed for trial on + their way to and from the Conciergerie and the Assize Court. + </p> + <p> + In the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>, between the door into the first court + of the inferior class and the steps leading to the sixth, the visitor must + observe the first time he goes there a doorway without a door or any + architectural adornment, a square hole of the meanest type. Through this + the judges and barristers find their way into the passages, into the + guardhouse, down into the prison cells, and to the entrance to the + Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + The private chambers of all the examining judges are on different floors + in this part of the building. They are reached by squalid staircases, a + maze in which those to whom the place is unfamiliar inevitably lose + themselves. The windows of some look out on the quay, others on the yard + of the Conciergerie. In 1830 a few of these rooms commanded the Rue de la + Barillerie. + </p> + <p> + Thus, when a prison van turns to the left in this yard, it has brought + prisoners to be examined to the “mousetrap”; when it turns to the right, + it conveys prisoners committed for trial, to the Conciergerie. Now it was + to the right that the vehicle turned which conveyed Jacques Collin to set + him down at the prison gate. Nothing can be more sinister. Prisoners and + visitors see two barred gates of wrought iron, with a space between them + of about six feet. These are never both opened at once, and through them + everything is so cautiously scrutinized that persons who have a visiting + ticket pass the permit through the bars before the key grinds in the lock. + The examining judges, or even the supreme judges, are not admitted without + being identified. Imagine, then, the chances of communications or escape!—The + governor of the Conciergerie would smile with an expression on his lips + that would freeze the mere suggestion in the most daring of romancers who + defy probability. + </p> + <p> + In all the annals of the Conciergerie no escape has been known but that of + Lavalette; but the certain fact of august connivance, now amply proven, if + it does not detract from the wife’s devotion, certainly diminished the + risk of failure. + </p> + <p> + The most ardent lover of the marvelous, judging on the spot of the nature + of the difficulties, must admit that at all times the obstacles must have + been, as they still are, insurmountable. No words can do justice to the + strength of the walls and vaulting; they must be seen. + </p> + <p> + Though the pavement of the yard is on a lower level than that of the quay, + in crossing this Barbican you go down several steps to enter an immense + vaulted hall, with solid walls graced with magnificent columns. This hall + abuts on the Tour de Montgomery—which is now part of the governor’s + residence—and on the Tour d’Argent, serving as a dormitory for the + warders, or porters, or turnkeys, as you may prefer to call them. The + number of the officials is less than might be supposed; there are but + twenty; their sleeping quarters, like their beds, are in no respect + different from those of the <i>pistoles</i> or private cells. The name <i>pistole</i> + originated, no doubt, in the fact that the prisoners formerly paid a + pistole (about ten francs) a week for this accommodation, its bareness + resembling that of the empty garrets in which great men in poverty begin + their career in Paris. + </p> + <p> + To the left, in the vast entrance hall, sits the Governor of the + Conciergerie, in a sort of office constructed of glass panes, where he and + his clerk keep the prison-registers. Here the prisoners for examination, + or committed for trial, have their names entered with a full description, + and are then searched. The question of their lodging is also settled, this + depending on the prisoner’s means. + </p> + <p> + Opposite the entrance to this hall there is a glass door. This opens into + a parlor where the prisoner’s relations and his counsel may speak with him + across a double grating of wood. The parlor window opens on to the prison + yard, the inner court where prisoners committed for trial take air and + exercise at certain fixed hours. + </p> + <p> + This large hall, only lighted by the doubtful daylight that comes in + through the gates—for the single window to the front court is + screened by the glass office built out in front of it—has an + atmosphere and a gloom that strike the eye in perfect harmony with the + pictures that force themselves on the imagination. Its aspect is all the + more sinister because, parallel with the Tours d’Argent and de Montgomery, + you discover those mysterious vaulted and overwhelming crypts which lead + to the cells occupied by the Queen and Madame Elizabeth, and to those + known as the secret cells. This maze of masonry, after being of old the + scene of royal festivities, is now the basement of the Palais de Justice. + </p> + <p> + Between 1825 and 1832 the operation of the last toilet was performed in + this enormous hall, between a large stove which heats it and the inner + gate. It is impossible even now to tread without a shudder on the paved + floor that has received the shock and the confidences of so many last + glances. + </p> + <p> + The apparently dying victim on this occasion could not get out of the + horrible vehicle without the assistance of two gendarmes, who took him + under the arms to support him, and led him half unconscious into the + office. Thus dragged along, the dying man raised his eyes to heaven in + such a way as to suggest a resemblance to the Saviour taken down from the + Cross. And certainly in no picture does Jesus present a more cadaverous or + tortured countenance than this of the sham Spaniard; he looked ready to + breathe his last sigh. As soon as he was seated in the office, he repeated + in a weak voice the speech he had made to everybody since he was arrested: + </p> + <p> + “I appeal to His Excellency the Spanish Ambassador.” + </p> + <p> + “You can say that to the examining judge,” replied the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh Lord!” said Jacques Collin, with a sigh. “But cannot I have a + breviary! Shall I never be allowed to see a doctor? I have not two hours + to live.” + </p> + <p> + As Carlos Herrera was to be placed in close confinement in the secret + cells, it was needless to ask him whether he claimed the benefits of the + pistole (as above described), that is to say, the right of having one of + the rooms where the prisoner enjoys such comfort as the law permits. These + rooms are on the other side of the prison-yard, of which mention will + presently be made. The sheriff and the clerk calmly carried out the + formalities of the consignment to prison. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Jacques Collin to the Governor in broken French, “I am, + as you see, a dying man. Pray, if you can, tell that examining judge as + soon as possible that I crave as a favor what a criminal must most dread, + namely, to be brought before him as soon as he arrives; for my sufferings + are really unbearable, and as soon as I see him the mistake will be + cleared up——” + </p> + <p> + As an universal rule every criminal talks of a mistake. Go to the hulks + and question the convicts; they are almost all victims of a miscarriage of + justice. So this speech raises a faint smile in all who come into contact + with the suspected, accused, or condemned criminal. + </p> + <p> + “I will mention your request to the examining judge,” replied the + Governor. + </p> + <p> + “And I shall bless you, monsieur!” replied the false Abbe, raising his + eyes to heaven. + </p> + <p> + As soon as his name was entered on the calendar, Carlos Herrera, supported + under each arm by a man of the municipal guard, and followed by a turnkey + instructed by the Governor as to the number of the cell in which the + prisoner was to be placed, was led through the subterranean maze of the + Conciergerie into a perfectly wholesome room, whatever certain + philanthropists may say to the contrary, but cut off from all possible + communication with the outer world. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was removed, the warders, the Governor, and his clerk looked + at each other as though asking each other’s opinion, and suspicion was + legible on every face; but at the appearance of the second man in custody + the spectators relapsed into their usual doubting frame of mind, concealed + under the air of indifference. Only in very extraordinary cases do the + functionaries of the Conciergerie feel any curiosity; the prisoners are no + more to them than a barber’s customers are to him. Hence all the + formalities which appall the imagination are carried out with less fuss + than a money transaction at a banker’s, and often with greater civility. + </p> + <p> + Lucien’s expression was that of a dejected criminal. He submitted to + everything, and obeyed like a machine. All the way from Fontainebleau the + poet had been facing his ruin, and telling himself that the hour of + expiation had tolled. Pale and exhausted, knowing nothing of what had + happened at Esther’s house during his absence, he only knew that he was + the intimate ally of an escaped convict, a situation which enabled him to + guess at disaster worse than death. When his mind could command a thought, + it was that of suicide. He must, at any cost, escape the ignominy that + loomed before him like the phantasm of a dreadful dream. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, as the more dangerous of the two culprits, was placed in a + cell of solid masonry, deriving its light from one of the narrow yards, of + which there are several in the interior of the Palace, in the wing where + the public prosecutor’s chambers are. This little yard is the + airing-ground for the female prisoners. Lucien was taken to the same part + of the building, to a cell adjoining the rooms let to misdemeanants; for, + by orders from the examining judge, the Governor treated him with some + consideration. + </p> + <p> + Persons who have never had anything to do with the action of the law + usually have the darkest notions as to the meaning of solitary or secret + confinement. Ideas as to the treatment of criminals have not yet become + disentangled from the old pictures of torture chambers, of the + unhealthiness of a prison, the chill of stone walls sweating tears, the + coarseness of the jailers and of the food—inevitable accessories of + the drama; but it is not unnecessary to explain here that these + exaggerations exist only on the stage, and only make lawyers and judges + smile, as well as those who visit prisons out of curiosity, or who come to + study them. + </p> + <p> + For a long time, no doubt, they were terrible. In the days of the old + Parlement, of Louis XIII. and Louis XIV., the accused were, no doubt, + flung pell-mell into a low room underneath the old gateway. The prisons + were among the crimes of 1789, and it is enough only to see the cells + where the Queen and Madame Elizabeth were incarcerated to conceive a + horror of old judicial proceedings. + </p> + <p> + In our day, though philanthropy has brought incalculable mischief on + society, it has produced some good for the individual. It is to Napoleon + that we owe our Criminal Code; and this, even more than the Civil Code—which + still urgently needs reform on some points—will remain one of the + greatest monuments of his short reign. This new view of criminal law put + an end to a perfect abyss of misery. Indeed, it may be said that, apart + from the terrible moral torture which men of the better classes must + suffer when they find themselves in the power of the law, the action of + that power is simple and mild to a degree that would hardly be expected. + Suspected or accused criminals are certainly not lodged as if they were at + home; but every necessary is supplied to them in the prisons of Paris. + Besides, the burden of feelings that weighs on them deprives the details + of daily life of their customary value. It is never the body that suffers. + The mind is in such a phase of violence that every form of discomfort or + of brutal treatment, if such there were, would be easily endured in such a + frame of mind. And it must be admitted that an innocent man is quickly + released, especially in Paris. + </p> + <p> + So Lucien, on entering his cell, saw an exact reproduction of the first + room he had occupied in Paris at the Hotel Cluny. A bed to compare with + those in the worst furnished apartments of the Quartier Latin, straw + chairs with the bottoms out, a table and a few utensils, compose the + furniture of such a room, in which two accused prisoners are not + unfrequently placed together when they are quiet in their ways, and their + misdeeds are not crimes of violence, but such as forgery or bankruptcy. + </p> + <p> + This resemblance between his starting-point, in the days of his innocency, + and his goal, the lowest depths of degradation and sham, was so direct an + appeal to his last chord of poetic feeling, that the unhappy fellow melted + into tears. For four hours he wept, as rigid in appearance as a figure of + stone, but enduring the subversion of all his hopes, the crushing of all + his social vanity, and the utter overthrow of his pride, smarting in each + separate <i>I</i> that exists in an ambitious man—a lover, a + success, a dandy, a Parisian, a poet, a libertine, and a favorite. + Everything in him was broken by this fall as of Icarus. + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera, on the other hand, as soon as he was locked into his cell + and found himself alone, began pacing it to and fro like the polar bear in + his cage. He carefully examined the door and assured himself that, with + the exception of the peephole, there was not a crack in it. He sounded all + the walls, he looked up the funnel down which a dim light came, and he + said to himself, “I am safe enough!” + </p> + <p> + He sat down in a corner where the eye of a prying warder at the grating of + the peephole could not see him. Then he took off his wig, and hastily + ungummed a piece of paper that did duty as lining. The side of the paper + next his head was so greasy that it looked like the very texture of the + wig. If it had occurred to Bibi-Lupin to snatch off the wig to establish + the identity of the Spaniard with Jacques Collin, he would never have + thought twice about the paper, it looked so exactly like part of the + wigmaker’s work. The other side was still fairly white, and clean enough + to have a few lines written on it. The delicate and tiresome task of + unsticking it had been begun in La Force; two hours would not have been + long enough; it had taken him half of the day before. The prisoner began + by tearing this precious scrap of paper so as to have a strip four or five + lines wide, which he divided into several bits; he then replaced his store + of paper in the same strange hiding-place, after damping the gummed side + so as to make it stick again. He felt in a lock of his hair for one of + those pencil leads as thin as a stout pin, then recently invented by + Susse, and which he had put in with some gum; he broke off a scrap long + enough to write with and small enough to hide in his ear. Having made + these preparations with the rapidity and certainty of hand peculiar to old + convicts, who are as light-fingered as monkeys, Jacques Collin sat down on + the edge of his bed to meditate on his instructions to Asie, in perfect + confidence that he should come across her, so entirely did he rely on the + woman’s genius. + </p> + <p> + “During the preliminary examination,” he reflected, “I pretended to be a + Spaniard and spoke broken French, appealed to my Ambassador, and alleged + diplomatic privilege, not understanding anything I was asked, the whole + performance varied by fainting, pauses, sighs—in short, all the + vagaries of a dying man. I must stick to that. My papers are all regular. + Asie and I can eat up Monsieur Camusot; he is no great shakes! + </p> + <p> + “Now I must think of Lucien; he must be made to pull himself together. I + must get at the boy at whatever cost, and show him some plan of conduct, + otherwise he will give himself up, give me up, lose all! He must be taught + his lesson before he is examined. And besides, I must find some witnesses + to swear to my being a priest!” + </p> + <p> + Such was the position, moral and physical, of these two prisoners, whose + fate at the moment depended on Monsieur Camusot, examining judge to the + Inferior Court of the Seine, and sovereign master, during the time granted + to him by the Code, of the smallest details of their existence, since he + alone could grant leave for them to be visited by the chaplains, the + doctor, or any one else in the world. + </p> + <p> + No human authority—neither the King, nor the Keeper of the Seals, + nor the Prime Minister, can encroach on the power of an examining judge; + nothing can stop him, no one can control him. He is a monarch, subject + only to his conscience and the Law. At the present time, when + philosophers, philanthropists, and politicians are constantly endeavoring + to reduce every social power, the rights conferred on the examining judges + have become the object of attacks that are all the more serious because + they are almost justified by those rights, which, it must be owned, are + enormous. And yet, as every man of sense will own, that power ought to + remain unimpaired; in certain cases, its exercise can be mitigated by a + strong infusion of caution; but society is already threatened by the + ineptitude and weakness of the jury—which is, in fact, the really + supreme bench, and which ought to be composed only of choice and elected + men—and it would be in danger of ruin if this pillar were broken + which now upholds our criminal procedure. + </p> + <p> + Arrest on suspicion is one of the terrible but necessary powers of which + the risk to society is counterbalanced by its immense importance. And + besides, distrust of the magistracy in general is a beginning of social + dissolution. Destroy that institution, and reconstruct it on another + basis; insist—as was the case before the Revolution—that + judges should show a large guarantee of fortune; but, at any cost, believe + in it! Do not make it an image of society to be insulted! + </p> + <p> + In these days a judge, paid as a functionary, and generally a poor man, + has in the place of his dignity of old a haughtiness of demeanor that + seems odious to the men raised to be his equals; for haughtiness is + dignity without a solid basis. That is the vicious element in the present + system. If France were divided into ten circuits, the magistracy might be + reinstated by conferring its dignities on men of fortune; but with + six-and-twenty circuits this is impossible. + </p> + <p> + The only real improvement to be insisted on in the exercise of the power + intrusted to the examining judge, is an alteration in the conditions of + preliminary imprisonment. The mere fact of suspicion ought to make no + difference in the habits of life of the suspected parties. Houses of + detention for them ought to be constructed in Paris, furnished and + arranged in such a way as greatly to modify the feeling of the public with + regard to suspected persons. The law is good, and is necessary; its + application is in fault, and public feeling judges the laws from the way + in which they are carried out. And public opinion in France condemns + persons under suspicion, while, by an inexplicable reaction, it justifies + those committed for trial. This, perhaps, is a result of the essentially + refractory nature of the French. + </p> + <p> + This illogical temper of the Parisian people was one of the factors which + contributed to the climax of this drama; nay, as may be seen, it was one + of the most important. + </p> + <p> + To enter into the secret of the terrible scenes which are acted out in the + examining judge’s chambers; to understand the respective positions of the + two belligerent powers, the Law and the examinee, the object of whose + contest is a certain secret kept by the prisoner from the inquisition of + the magistrate—well named in prison slang, “the curious man”—it + must always be remembered that persons imprisoned under suspicion know + nothing of what is being said by the seven or eight publics that compose + <i>the Public</i>, nothing of how much the police know, or the + authorities, or the little that newspapers can publish as to the + circumstances of the crime. + </p> + <p> + Thus, to give a man in custody such information as Jacques Collin had just + received from Asie as to Lucien’s arrest, is throwing a rope to a drowning + man. As will be seen, in consequence of this ignorance, a stratagem which, + without this warning, must certainly have been equally fatal to the + convict, was doomed to failure. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Camusot, the son-in-law of one of the clerks of the cabinet, too + well known for any account of his position and connection to be necessary + here, was at this moment almost as much perplexed as Carlos Herrera in + view of the examination he was to conduct. He had formerly been President + of a Court of the Paris circuit; he had been raised from that position and + called to be a judge in Paris—one of the most coveted posts in the + magistracy—by the influence of the celebrated Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse, whose husband, attached to the Dauphin’s person, and Colonel + of a cavalry regiment of the Guards, was as much in favor with the King as + she was with MADAME. In return for a very small service which he had done + the Duchess—an important matter to her—on occasion of a charge + of forgery brought against the young Comte d’Esgrignon by a banker of + Alencon (see <i>La Cabinet des Antiques</i>; <i>Scenes de la vie de + Province</i>), he was promoted from being a provincial judge to be + president of his Court, and from being president to being an examining + judge in Paris. + </p> + <p> + For eighteen months now he had sat on the most important Bench in the + kingdom; and had once, at the desire of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, had + an opportunity of forwarding the ends of a lady not less influential than + the Duchess, namely, the Marquise d’Espard, but he had failed. (See the <i>Commission + in Lunacy</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Lucien, as was told at the beginning of the Scene, to be revenged on + Madame d’Espard, who aimed at depriving her husband of his liberty of + action, was able to put the true facts before the Public Prosecutor and + the Comte de Serizy. These two important authorities being thus won over + to the Marquis d’Espard’s party, his wife had barely escaped the censure + of the Bench by her husband’s generous intervention. + </p> + <p> + On hearing, yesterday, of Lucien’s arrest, the Marquise d’Espard had sent + her brother-in-law, the Chevalier d’Espard, to see Madame Camusot. Madame + Camusot had set off forthwith to call on the notorious Marquise. Just + before dinner, on her return home, she had called her husband aside in the + bedroom. + </p> + <p> + “If you can commit that little fop Lucien de Rubempre for trial, and + secure his condemnation,” said she in his ear, “you will be Councillor to + the Supreme Court——” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame d’Espard longs to see that poor young man guillotined. I shivered + as I heard what a pretty woman’s hatred can be!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not meddle in questions of the law,” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “I! meddle!” said she. “If a third person could have heard us, he could + not have guessed what we were talking about. The Marquise and I were as + exquisitely hypocritical to each other as you are to me at this moment. + She began by thanking me for your good offices in her suit, saying that + she was grateful in spite of its having failed. She spoke of the terrible + functions devolved on you by the law, ‘It is fearful to have to send a man + to the scaffold—but as to that man, it would be no more than + justice,’ and so forth. Then she lamented that such a handsome young + fellow, brought to Paris by her cousin, Madame du Chatelet, should have + turned out so badly. ‘That,’ said she, ‘is what bad women like Coralie and + Esther bring young men to when they are corrupt enough to share their + disgraceful profits!’ Next came some fine speeches about charity and + religion! Madame du Chatelet had said that Lucien deserved a thousand + deaths for having half killed his mother and his sister. + </p> + <p> + “Then she spoke of a vacancy in the Supreme Court—she knows the + Keeper of the Seals. ‘Your husband, madame, has a fine opportunity of + distinguishing himself,’ she said in conclusion—and that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “We distinguish ourselves every day when we do our duty,” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “You will go far if you are always the lawyer even to your wife,” cried + Madame Camusot. “Well, I used to think you a goose. Now I admire you.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer’s lips wore one of those smiles which are as peculiar to them + as dancers’ smiles are to dancers. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, can I come in?” said the maid. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said her mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, the head lady’s-maid came from the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse while + you were out, and she will be obliged if you would go at once to the Hotel + de Cadignan.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep dinner back,” said the lawyer’s wife, remembering that the driver of + the hackney coach that had brought her home was waiting to be paid. + </p> + <p> + She put her bonnet on again, got into the coach, and in twenty minutes was + at the Hotel de Cadignan. Madame Camusot was led up the private stairs, + and sat alone for ten minutes in a boudoir adjoining the Duchess’ bedroom. + The Duchess presently appeared, splendidly dressed, for she was starting + for Saint-Cloud in obedience to a Royal invitation. + </p> + <p> + “Between you and me, my dear, a few words are enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame la Duchesse.” + </p> + <p> + “Lucien de Rubempre is in custody, your husband is conducting the inquiry; + I will answer for the poor boy’s innocence; see that he is released within + twenty-four hours.—This is not all. Some one will ask to-morrow to + see Lucien in private in his cell; your husband may be present if he + chooses, so long as he is not discovered. The King looks for high courage + in his magistrates in the difficult position in which he will presently + find himself; I will bring your husband forward, and recommend him as a + man devoted to the King even at the risk of his head. Our friend Camusot + will be made first a councillor, and then the President of Court somewhere + or other.—Good-bye.—I am under orders, you will excuse me, I + know? + </p> + <p> + “You will not only oblige the public prosecutor, who cannot give an + opinion in this affair; you will save the life of a dying woman, Madame de + Serizy. So you will not lack support. + </p> + <p> + “In short, you see, I put my trust in you, I need not say—you know——” + </p> + <p> + She laid a finger to her lips and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “And I had not a chance of telling her that Madame d’Espard wants to see + Lucien on the scaffold!” thought the judge’s wife as she returned to her + hackney cab. + </p> + <p> + She got home in such a state of anxiety that her husband, on seeing her, + asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, Amelie?” + </p> + <p> + “We stand between two fires.” + </p> + <p> + She told her husband of her interview with the Duchess, speaking in his + ear for fear the maid should be listening at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Now, which of them has the most power?” she said in conclusion. “The + Marquise was very near getting you into trouble in the silly business of + the commission on her husband, and we owe everything to the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “One made vague promises, while the other tells you you shall first be + Councillor and then President.—Heaven forbid I should advise you; I + will never meddle in matters of business; still, I am bound to repeat + exactly what is said at Court and what goes on——” + </p> + <p> + “But, Amelie, you do not know what the Prefet of police sent me this + morning, and by whom? By one of the most important agents of the superior + police, the Bibi-Lupin of politics, who told me that the Government had a + secret interest in this trial.—Now let us dine and go to the + Varietes. We will talk all this over to-night in my private room, for I + shall need your intelligence; that of a judge may not perhaps be enough——” + </p> + <p> + Nine magistrates out of ten would deny the influence of the wife over her + husband in such cases; but though this may be a remarkable exception in + society, it may be insisted on as true, even if improbable. The magistrate + is like the priest, especially in Paris, where the best of the profession + are to be found; he rarely speaks of his business in the Courts, excepting + of settled cases. Not only do magistrates’ wives affect to know nothing; + they have enough sense of propriety to understand that it would damage + their husbands if, when they are told some secret, they allowed their + knowledge to be suspected. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, on some great occasions, when promotion depends on the + decision taken, many a wife, like Amelie, has helped the lawyer in his + study of a case. And, after all, these exceptions, which, of course, are + easily denied, since they remain unknown, depend entirely on the way in + which the struggle between two natures has worked out in home-life. Now, + Madame Camusot controlled her husband completely. + </p> + <p> + When all in the house were asleep, the lawyer and his wife sat down to the + desk, where the magistrate had already laid out the documents in the case. + </p> + <p> + “Here are the notes, forwarded to me, at my request, by the Prefet of + police,” said Camusot. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>The Abbe Carlos Herrera</i>. + + “This individual is undoubtedly the man named Jacques Collin, + known as <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, who was last arrested in 1819, in the + dwelling-house of a certain Madame Vauquer, who kept a common + boarding-house in the Rue Nueve-Sainte-Genevieve, where he lived + in concealment under the alias of Vautrin.” + </pre> + <p> + A marginal note in the Prefet’s handwriting ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Orders have been sent by telegraph to Bibi-Lupin, chief of the + Safety department, to return forthwith, to be confronted with the + prisoner, as he is personally acquainted with Jacques Collin, whom + he, in fact, arrested in 1819 with the connivance of a + Mademoiselle Michonneau. + + “The boarders who then lived in the Maison Vauquer are still + living, and may be called to establish his identity. + + “The self-styled Carlos Herrera is Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre’s + intimate friend and adviser, and for three years past has + furnished him with considerable sums, evidently obtained by + dishonest means. + + “This partnership, if the identity of the Spaniard with Jacques + Collin can be proved, must involve the condemnation of Lucien de + Rubempre. + + “The sudden death of Peyrade, the police agent, is attributable to + poison administered at the instigation of Jacques Collin, + Rubempre, or their accomplices. The reason for this murder is the + fact that justice had for a long time been on the traces of these + clever criminals.” + </pre> + <p> + And again, on the margin, the magistrate pointed to this note written by + the Prefet himself: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “This is the fact to my personal knowledge; and I also know that + the Sieur Lucien de Rubempre has disgracefully tricked the Comte + de Serizy and the Public Prosecutor.” + </pre> + <p> + “What do you say to this, Amelie?” + </p> + <p> + “It is frightful!” repled his wife. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “The transformation of the convict Jacques Collin into a Spanish priest is + the result of some crime more clever than that by which Coignard made + himself Comte de Sainte-Helene.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>Lucien de Rubempre</i>. + + “Lucien Chardon, son of an apothecary at Angouleme—his mother a + Demoiselle de Rubempre—bears the name of Rubempre in virtue of a + royal patent. This was granted by the request of Madame la + Duchesse de Maufrigneuse and Monsieur le Comte de Serizy. + + “This young man came to Paris in 182... without any means of + subsistence, following Madame la Comtesse Sixte du Chatelet, then + Madame de Bargeton, a cousin of Madame d’Espard’s. + + “He was ungrateful to Madame de Bargeton, and cohabited with a + girl named Coralie, an actress at the Gymnase, now dead, who left + Monsieur Camusot, a silk mercer in the Rue des Bourdonnais, to + live with Rubempre. + + “Ere long, having sunk into poverty through the insufficiency of + the money allowed him by this actress, he seriously compromised + his brother-in-law, a highly respected printer of Angouleme, by + giving forged bills, for which David Sechard was arrested, during + a short visit paid to Angouleme by Lucien. In consequence of this + affair Rubempre fled, but suddenly reappeared in Paris with the + Abbe Carlos Herrera. + + “Though having no visible means of subsistence, the said Lucien de + Rubempre spent on an average three hundred thousand francs during + the three years of his second residence in Paris, and can only + have obtained the money from the self-styled Abbe Carlos Herrera + —but how did he come by it? + + “He has recently laid out above a million francs in repurchasing + the Rubempre estates to fulfil the conditions on which he was to + be allowed to marry Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu. This + marriage has been broken off in consequence of inquiries made by + the Grandlieu family, the said Lucien having told them that he had + obtained the money from his brother-in-law and his sister; but the + information obtained, more especially by Monsieur Derville, + attorney-at-law, proves that not only were that worthy couple + ignorant of his having made this purchase, but that they believed + the said Lucien to be deeply in debt. + + “Moreover, the property inherited by the Sechards consists of + houses; and the ready money, by their affidavit, amounted to about + two hundred thousand francs. + + “Lucien was secretly cohabiting with Esther Gobseck; hence there + can be no doubt that all the lavish gifts of the Baron de + Nucingen, the girl’s protector, were handed over to the said + Lucien. + + “Lucien and his companion, the convict, have succeeded in keeping + their footing in the face of the world longer than Coignard did, + deriving their income from the prostitution of the said Esther, + formerly on the register of the town.” + </pre> + <p> + Though these notes are to a great extent a repetition of the story already + told, it was necessary to reproduce them to show the part played by the + police in Paris. As has already been seen from the note on Peyrade, the + police has summaries, almost invariably correct, concerning every family + or individual whose life is under suspicion, or whose actions are of a + doubtful character. It knows every circumstance of their delinquencies. + This universal register and account of consciences is as accurately kept + as the register of the Bank of France and its accounts of fortunes. Just + as the Bank notes the slightest delay in payment, gauges every credit, + takes stock of every capitalist, and watches their proceedings, so does + the police weigh and measure the honesty of each citizen. With it, as in a + Court of Law, innocence has nothing to fear; it has no hold on anything + but crime. + </p> + <p> + However high the rank of a family, it cannot evade this social providence. + </p> + <p> + And its discretion is equal to the extent of its power. This vast mass of + written evidence compiled by the police—reports, notes, and + summaries—an ocean of information, sleeps undisturbed, as deep and + calm as the sea. Some accident occurs, some crime or misdemeanor becomes + aggressive,—then the law refers to the police, and immediately, if + any documents bear on the suspected criminal, the judge is informed. These + records, an analysis of his antecedents, are merely side-lights, and + unknown beyond the walls of the Palais de Justice. No legal use can be + made of them; Justice is informed by them, and takes advantage of them; + but that is all. These documents form, as it were, the inner lining of the + tissue of crimes, their first cause, which is hardly ever made public. No + jury would accept it; and the whole country would rise up in wrath if + excerpts from those documents came out in the trial at the Assizes. In + fact, it is the truth which is doomed to remain in the well, as it is + everywhere and at all times. There is not a magistrate who, after twelve + years’ experience in Paris, is not fully aware that the Assize Court and + the police authorities keep the secret of half these squalid atrocities, + or who does not admit that half the crimes that are committed are never + punished by the law. + </p> + <p> + If the public could know how reserved the <i>employes</i> of the police + are—who do not forget—they would reverence these honest men as + much as they do Cheverus. The police is supposed to be astute, + Machiavellian; it is, in fact most benign. But it hears every passion in + its paroxysms, it listens to every kind of treachery, and keeps notes of + all. The police is terrible on one side only. What it does for justice it + does no less for political interests; but in these it is as ruthless and + as one-sided as the fires of the Inquisition. + </p> + <p> + “Put this aside,” said the lawyer, replacing the notes in their cover; + “this is a secret between the police and the law. The judge will estimate + its value, but Monsieur and Madame Camusot must know nothing of it.” + </p> + <p> + “As if I needed telling that!” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien is guilty,” he went on; “but of what?” + </p> + <p> + “A man who is the favorite of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, of the + Comtesse de Serizy, and loved by Clotilde de Grandlieu, is not guilty,” + said Amelie. “The other <i>must</i> be answerable for everything.” + </p> + <p> + “But Lucien is his accomplice,” cried Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Take my advice,” said Amelie. “Restore this priest to the diplomatic + career he so greatly adorns, exculpate this little wretch, and find some + other criminal——” + </p> + <p> + “How you run on!” said the magistrate with a smile. “Women go to the + point, plunging through the law as birds fly through the air, and find + nothing to stop them.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Amelie, “whether he is a diplomate or a convict, the Abbe + Carlos will find some one to get him out of the scrape.” + </p> + <p> + “I am only a considering cap; you are the brain,” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the sitting is closed; give your Melie a kiss; it is one o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + And Madame Camusot went to bed, leaving her husband to arrange his papers + and his ideas in preparation for the task of examining the two prisoners + next morning. + </p> + <p> + And thus, while the prison vans were conveying Jacques Collin and Lucien + to the Conciergerie, the examining judge, having breakfasted, was making + his way across Paris on foot, after the unpretentious fashion of Parisian + magistrates, to go to his chambers, where all the documents in the case + were laid ready for him. + </p> + <p> + This was the way of it: Every examining judge has a head-clerk, a sort of + sworn legal secretary—a race that perpetuates itself without any + premiums or encouragement, producing a number of excellent souls in whom + secrecy is natural and incorruptible. From the origin of the Parlement to + the present day, no case has ever been known at the Palais de Justice of + any gossip or indiscretion on the part of a clerk bound to the Courts of + Inquiry. Gentil sold the release given by Louise de Savoie to Semblancay; + a War Office clerk sold the plan of the Russian campaign to Czernitchef; + and these traitors were more or less rich. The prospect of a post in the + Palais and professional conscientiousness are enough to make a judge’s + clerk a successful rival of the tomb—for the tomb has betrayed many + secrets since chemistry has made such progress. + </p> + <p> + This official is, in fact, the magistrate’s pen. It will be understood by + many readers that a man may gladly be the shaft of a machine, while they + wonder why he is content to remain a bolt; still a bolt is content—perhaps + the machinery terrifies him. + </p> + <p> + Camusot’s clerk, a young man of two-and-twenty, named Coquart, had come in + the morning to fetch all the documents and the judge’s notes, and laid + everything ready in his chambers, while the lawyer himself was wandering + along the quays, looking at the curiosities in the shops, and wondering + within himself:— + </p> + <p> + “How on earth am I to set to work with such a clever rascal as this + Jacques Collin, supposing it is he? The head of the Safety will know him. + I must look as if I knew what I was about, if only for the sake of the + police! I see so many insuperable difficulties, that the best plan would + be to enlighten the Marquise and the Duchess by showing them the notes of + the police, and I should avenge my father, from whom Lucien stole Coralie.—If + I can unveil these scoundrels, my skill will be loudly proclaimed, and + Lucien will soon be thrown over by his friends.—Well, well, the + examination will settle all that.” + </p> + <p> + He turned into a curiosity shop, tempted by a Boule clock. + </p> + <p> + “Not to be false to my conscience, and yet to oblige two great ladies—that + will be a triumph of skill,” thought he. “What, do you collect coins too, + monsieur?” said Camusot to the Public Prosecutor, whom he found in the + shop. + </p> + <p> + “It is a taste dear to all dispensers of justice,” said the Comte de + Granville, laughing. “They look at the reverse side of every medal.” + </p> + <p> + And after looking about the shop for some minutes, as if continuing his + search, he accompanied Camusot on his way down the quay without it ever + occurring to Camusot that anything but chance had brought them together. + </p> + <p> + “You are examining Monsieur de Rubempre this morning,” said the Public + Prosecutor. “Poor fellow—I liked him.” + </p> + <p> + “There are several charges against him,” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I saw the police papers; but some of the information came from an + agent who is independent of the Prefet, the notorious Corentin, who had + caused the death of more innocent men than you will ever send guilty men + to the scaffold, and——But that rascal is out of your reach.—Without + trying to influence the conscience of such a magistrate as you are, I may + point out to you that if you could be perfectly sure that Lucien was + ignorant of the contents of that woman’s will, it would be self-evident + that he had no interest in her death, for she gave him enormous sums of + money.” + </p> + <p> + “We can prove his absence at the time when this Esther was poisoned,” said + Camusot. “He was at Fontainebleau, on the watch for Mademoiselle de + Grandlieu and the Duchesse de Lenoncourt.” + </p> + <p> + “And he still cherished such hopes of marrying Mademoiselle de Grandlieu,” + said the Public Prosecutor—“I have it from the Duchesse de Grandlieu + herself—that it is inconceivable that such a clever young fellow + should compromise his chances by a perfectly aimless crime.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Camusot, “especially if Esther gave him all she got.” + </p> + <p> + “Derville and Nucingen both say that she died in ignorance of the + inheritance she had long since come into,” added Granville. + </p> + <p> + “But then what do you suppose is the meaning of it all?” asked Camusot. + “For there is something at the bottom of it.” + </p> + <p> + “A crime committed by some servant,” said the Public Prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” remarked Camusot, “it would be quite like Jacques Collin—for + the Spanish priest is certainly none other than that escaped convict—to + have taken possession of the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs + derived from the sale of the certificate of shares given to Esther by + Nucingen.” + </p> + <p> + “Weigh everything with care, my dear Camusot. Be prudent. The Abbe Carlos + Herrera has diplomatic connections; still, an envoy who had committed a + crime would not be sheltered by his position. Is he or is he not the Abbe + Carlos Herrera? That is the important question.” + </p> + <p> + And Monsieur de Granville bowed, and turned away, as requiring no answer. + </p> + <p> + “So he too wants to save Lucien!” thought Camusot, going on by the Quai + des Lunettes, while the Public Prosecutor entered the Palais through the + Cour de Harlay. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the courtyard of the Conciergerie, Camusot went to the + Governor’s room and led him into the middle of the pavement, where no one + could overhear them. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, do me the favor of going to La Force, and inquiring of your + colleague there whether he happens at this moment to have there any + convicts who were on the hulks at Toulon between 1810 and 1815; or have + you any imprisoned here? We will transfer those of La Force here for a few + days, and you will let me know whether this so-called Spanish priest is + known to them as Jacques Collin, otherwise <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, Monsieur Camusot.—But Bibi-Lupin is come...” + </p> + <p> + “What, already?” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “He was at Melun. He was told that <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> had to be + identified, and he smiled with joy. He awaits your orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Send him to me.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor was then able to lay before Monsieur Camusot Jacques Collin’s + request, and he described the man’s deplorable condition. + </p> + <p> + “I intended to examine him first,” replied the magistrate, “but not on + account of his health. I received a note this morning from the Governor of + La Force. Well, this rascal, who described himself to you as having been + dying for twenty-four hours past, slept so soundly that they went into his + cell there, with the doctor for whom the Governor had sent, without his + hearing them; the doctor did not even feel his pulse, he left him to sleep—which + proves that his conscience is as tough as his health. I shall accept this + feigned illness only so far as it may enable me to study my man,” added + Monsieur Camusot, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “We live to learn every day with these various grades of prisoners,” said + the Governor of the prison. + </p> + <p> + The Prefecture of police adjoins the Conciergerie, and the magistrates, + like the Governor, knowing all the subterranean passages, can get to and + fro with the greatest rapidity. This explains the miraculous ease with + which information can be conveyed, during the sitting of the Courts, to + the officials and the presidents of the Assize Courts. And by the time + Monsieur Camusot had reached the top of the stairs leading to his + chambers, Bibi-Lupin was there too, having come by the <i>Salle des + Pas-Perdus</i>. + </p> + <p> + “What zeal!” said Camusot, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, you see if it is <i>he</i>,” replied the man, “you will see + great fun in the prison-yard if by chance there are any old stagers here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> sneaked their chips, and I know that they have + vowed to be the death of him.” + </p> + <p> + <i>They</i> were the convicts whose money, intrusted to <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, + had all been made away with by him for Lucien, as has been told. + </p> + <p> + “Could you lay your hand on the witnesses of his former arrest?” + </p> + <p> + “Give me two summonses of witnesses and I will find you some to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Coquart,” said the lawyer, as he took off his gloves, and placed his hat + and stick in a corner, “fill up two summonses by monsieur’s directions.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at himself in the glass over the chimney shelf, where stood, in + the place of a clock, a basin and jug. On one side was a bottle of water + and a glass, on the other a lamp. He rang the bell; his usher came in a + few minutes after. + </p> + <p> + “Is anybody here for me yet?” he asked the man, whose business it was to + receive the witnesses, to verify their summons, and to set them in the + order of their arrival. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Take their names, and bring me the list.” + </p> + <p> + The examining judges, to save time, are often obliged to carry on several + inquiries at once. Hence the long waiting inflicted on the witnesses, who + have seats in the ushers’ hall, where the judges’ bells are constantly + ringing. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” Camusot went on, “bring up the Abbe Carlos Herrera.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! I was told that he was a priest in Spanish. Pooh! It is a new + edition of Collet, Monsieur Camusot,” said the head of the Safety + department. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing new!” replied Camusot. + </p> + <p> + And he signed the two formidable documents which alarm everybody, even the + most innocent witnesses, whom the law thus requires to appear, under + severe penalties in case of failure. + </p> + <p> + By this time Jacques Collin had, about half an hour since, finished his + deep meditations, and was armed for the fray. Nothing is more perfectly + characteristic of this type of the mob in rebellion against the law than + the few words he had written on the greasy scraps of paper. + </p> + <p> + The sense of the first—for it was written in the language, the very + slang of slang, agreed upon by Asie and himself, a cipher of words—was + as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Go to the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse or Madame de Serizy: one of + them must see Lucien before he is examined, and give him the + enclosed paper to read. Then find Europe and Paccard; those two + thieves must be at my orders, and ready to play any part I may + set them. + + “Go to Rastignac; tell him, from the man he met at the opera-ball, + to come and swear that the Abbe Carlos Herrera has no resemblance + to Jacques Collin who was apprehended at Vauquer’s. Do the same + with Dr. Bianchon, and get Lucien’s two women to work to the same + end.” + </pre> + <p> + On the enclosed fragment were these words in good French: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Lucien, confess nothing about me. I am the Abbe Carlos Herrera. + Not only will this be your exculpation; but, if you do not lose + your head, you will have seven millions and your honor cleared.” + </pre> + <p> + These two bits of paper, gummed on the side of the writing so as to look + like one piece, were then rolled tightly, with a dexterity peculiar to men + who have dreamed of getting free from the hulks. The whole thing assumed + the shape and consistency of a ball of dirty rubbish, about as big as the + sealing-wax heads which thrifty women stick on the head of a large needle + when the eye is broken. + </p> + <p> + “If I am examined first, we are saved; if it is the boy, all is lost,” + said he to himself while he waited. + </p> + <p> + His plight was so sore that the strong man’s face was wet with white + sweat. Indeed, this wonderful man saw as clearly in his sphere of crime as + Moliere did in his sphere of dramatic poetry, or Cuvier in that of extinct + organisms. Genius of whatever kind is intuition. Below this highest + manifestation other remarkable achievements may be due to talent. This is + what divides men of the first rank from those of the second. + </p> + <p> + Crime has its men of genius. Jacques Collin, driven to bay, had hit on the + same notion as Madame Camusot’s ambition and Madame de Serizy’s passion, + suddenly revived by the shock of the dreadful disaster which was + overwhelming Lucien. This was the supreme effort of human intellect + directed against the steel armor of Justice. + </p> + <p> + On hearing the rasping of the heavy locks and bolts of his door, Jacques + Collin resumed his mask of a dying man; he was helped in this by the + intoxicating joy that he felt at the sound of the warder’s shoes in the + passage. He had no idea how Asie would get near him; but he relied on + meeting her on the way, especially after her promise given in the + Saint-Jean gateway. + </p> + <p> + After that fortunate achievement she had gone on to the Place de Greve. + </p> + <p> + Till 1830 the name of La Greve (the Strand) had a meaning that is now + lost. Every part of the river-shore from the Pont d’Arcole to the Pont + Louis-Philippe was then as nature had made it, excepting the paved way + which was at the top of the bank. When the river was in flood a boat could + pass close under the houses and at the end of the streets running down to + the river. On the quay the footpath was for the most part raised with a + few steps; and when the river was up to the houses, vehicles had to pass + along the horrible Rue de la Mortellerie, which has now been completely + removed to make room for enlarging the Hotel de Ville. + </p> + <p> + So the sham costermonger could easily and quickly run her truck down to + the bottom of the quay, and hide it there till the real owner—who + was, in fact, drinking the price of her wares, sold bodily to Asie, in one + of the abominable taverns in the Rue de la Mortellerie—should return + to claim it. At that time the Quai Pelletier was being extended, the + entrance to the works was guarded by a crippled soldier, and the barrow + would be quite safe in his keeping. + </p> + <p> + Asie then jumped into a hackney cab on the Place de l’Hotel de Ville, and + said to the driver, “To the Temple, and look sharp, I’ll tip you well.” + </p> + <p> + A woman dressed like Asie could disappear, without any questions being + asked, in the huge market-place, where all the rags in Paris are gathered + together, where a thousand costermongers wander round, and two hundred + old-clothes sellers are chaffering. + </p> + <p> + The two prisoners had hardly been locked up when she was dressing herself + in a low, damp entresol over one of those foul shops where remnants are + sold, pieces stolen by tailors and dressmakers—an establishment kept + by an old maid known as La Romette, from her Christian name Jeromette. La + Romette was to the “purchasers of wardrobes” what these women are to the + better class of so-called ladies in difficulties—Madame la + Ressource, that is to say, money-lenders at a hundred per cent. + </p> + <p> + “Now, child,” said Asie, “I have got to be figged out. I must be a + Baroness of the Faubourg Saint-Germain at the very least. And sharp’s the + word, for my feet are in hot oil. You know what gowns suit me. Hand up the + rouge-pot, find me some first-class bits of lace, and the swaggerest + jewelry you can pick out.—Send the girl to call a coach, and have it + brought to the back door.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame,” the woman replied very humbly, and with the eagerness of a + maid waiting on her mistress. + </p> + <p> + If there had been any one to witness the scene, he would have understood + that the woman known as Asie was at home here. + </p> + <p> + “I have had some diamonds offered me,” said la Romette as she dressed + Asie’s head. + </p> + <p> + “Stolen?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, however cheap they may be, we must do without ‘em. We must + fight shy of the beak for a long time to come.” + </p> + <p> + It will now be understood how Asie contrived to be in the <i>Salle des + Pas-Perdus</i> of the Palais de Justice with a summons in her hand, asking + her way along the passages and stairs leading to the examining judge’s + chambers, and inquiring for Monsieur Camusot, about a quarter of an hour + before that gentleman’s arrival. + </p> + <p> + Asie was not recognizable. After washing off her “make-up” as an old + woman, like an actress, she applied rouge and pearl powder, and covered + her head with a well-made fair wig. Dressed exactly as a lady of the + Faubourg Saint-Germain might be if in search of a dog she had lost, she + looked about forty, for she shrouded her features under a splendid black + lace veil. A pair of stays, severely laced, disguised her cook’s figure. + With very good gloves and a rather large bustle, she exhaled the perfume + of powder a la Marechale. Playing with a bag mounted in gold, she divided + her attention between the walls of the building, where she found herself + evidently for the first time, and the string by which she led a dainty + little spaniel. Such a dowager could not fail to attract the notice of the + black-robed natives of the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>. + </p> + <p> + Besides the briefless lawyers who sweep this hall with their gowns, and + speak of the leading advocates by their Christian names, as fine gentlemen + address each other, to produce the impression that they are of the + aristocracy of the law, patient youths are often to be seen, hangers-on of + the attorneys, waiting, waiting, in hope of a case put down for the end of + the day, which they may be so lucky as to be called to plead if the + advocates retained for the earlier cases should not come out in time. + </p> + <p> + A very curious study would be that of the differences between these + various black gowns, pacing the immense hall in threes, or sometimes in + fours, their persistent talk filling the place with a loud, echoing hum—a + hall well named indeed, for this slow walk exhausts the lawyers as much as + the waste of words. But such a study has its place in the volumes destined + to reveal the life of Paris pleaders. + </p> + <p> + Asie had counted on the presence of these youths; she laughed in her + sleeve at some of the pleasantries she overheard, and finally succeeded in + attracting the attention of Massol, a young lawyer whose time was more + taken up by the <i>Police Gazette</i> than by clients, and who came up + with a laugh to place himself at the service of a woman so elegantly + scented and so handsomely dressed. + </p> + <p> + Asie put on a little, thin voice to explain to this obliging gentleman + that she appeared in answer to a summons from a judge named Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! in the Rubempre case?” + </p> + <p> + So the affair had its name already. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is not my affair. It is my maid’s, a girl named Europe, who was + with me twenty-four hours, and who fled when she saw my servant bring in a + piece of stamped paper.” + </p> + <p> + Then, like any old woman who spends her life gossiping in the + chimney-corner, prompted by Massol, she poured out the story of her woes + with her first husband, one of the three Directors of the land revenue. + She consulted the young lawyer as to whether she would do well to enter on + a lawsuit with her son-in-law, the Comte de Gross-Narp, who made her + daughter very miserable, and whether the law allowed her to dispose of her + fortune. + </p> + <p> + In spite of all his efforts, Massol could not be sure whether the summons + were addressed to the mistress or the maid. At the first moment he had + only glanced at this legal document of the most familiar aspect; for, to + save time, it is printed, and the magistrates’ clerks have only to fill in + the blanks left for the names and addresses of the witnesses, the hour for + which they are called, and so forth. + </p> + <p> + Asie made him tell her all about the Palais, which she knew more + intimately than the lawyer did. Finally, she inquired at what hour + Monsieur Camusot would arrive. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the examining judges generally are here by about ten o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “It is now a quarter to ten,” said she, looking at a pretty little watch, + a perfect gem of goldsmith’s work, which made Massol say to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil will Fortune make herself at home next!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Asie had come to the dark hall looking out on the yard of + the Conciergerie, where the ushers wait. On seeing the gate through the + window, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What are those high walls?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the Conciergerie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! so that is the Conciergerie where our poor queen——Oh! I + should so like to see her cell!” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible, Madame la Baronne,” replied the young lawyer, on whose arm + the dowager was now leaning. “A permit is indispensable, and very + difficult to procure.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been told,” she went on, “that Louis XVIII. himself composed the + inscription that is to be seen in Marie-Antoinette’s cell.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame la Baronne.” + </p> + <p> + “How much I should like to know Latin that I might study the words of that + inscription!” said she. “Do you think that Monsieur Camusot could give me + a permit?” + </p> + <p> + “That is not in his power; but he could take you there.” + </p> + <p> + “But his business——” objected she. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Massol, “prisoners under suspicion can wait.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said she artlessly, “they are under suspicion.—But I + know Monsieur de Granville, your public prosecutor——” + </p> + <p> + This hint had a magical effect on the ushers and the young lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you know Monsieur de Granville?” said Massol, who was inclined to ask + the client thus sent to him by chance her name and address. + </p> + <p> + “I often see him at my friend Monsieur de Serizy’s house. Madame de Serizy + is a connection of mine through the Ronquerolles.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if Madame wishes to go down to the Conciergerie,” said an usher, + “she——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Massol. + </p> + <p> + So the Baroness and the lawyer were allowed to pass, and they presently + found themselves in the little guard-room at the top of the stairs leading + to the “mousetrap,” a spot well known to Asie, forming, as has been said, + a post of observation between those cells and the Court of the Sixth + Chamber, through which everybody is obliged to pass. + </p> + <p> + “Will you ask if Monsieur Camusot is come yet?” said she, seeing some + gendarmes playing cards. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame, he has just come up from the ‘mousetrap.’” + </p> + <p> + “The mousetrap!” said she. “What is that?—Oh! how stupid of me not + to have gone straight to the Comte de Granville.—But I have not time + now. Pray take me to speak to Monsieur Camusot before he is otherwise + engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you have plenty of time for seeing Monsieur Camusot,” said Massol. + “If you send him in your card, he will spare you the discomfort of waiting + in the ante-room with the witnesses.—We can be civil here to ladies + like you.—You have a card about you?” + </p> + <p> + At this instant Asie and her lawyer were exactly in front of the window of + the guardroom whence the gendarmes could observe the gate of the + Conciergerie. The gendarmes, brought up to respect the defenders of the + widow and the orphan, were aware too of the prerogative of the gown, and + for a few minutes allowed the Baroness to remain there escorted by a + pleader. Asie listened to the terrible tales which a young lawyer is ready + to tell about that prison-gate. She would not believe that those who were + condemned to death were prepared for the scaffold behind those bars; but + the sergeant-at-arms assured her it was so. + </p> + <p> + “How much I should like to see it done!” cried she. + </p> + <p> + And there she remained, prattling to the lawyer and the sergeant, till she + saw Jacques Collin come out supported by two gendarmes, and preceded by + Monsieur Camusot’s clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there is a chaplain no doubt going to prepare a poor wretch——” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, Madame la Baronne,” said the gendarme. “He is a prisoner + coming to be examined.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he accused of?” + </p> + <p> + “He is concerned in this poisoning case.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I should like to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot stay here,” said the sergeant, “for he is under close arrest, + and he must pass through here. You see, madame, that door leads to the + stairs——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! thank you!” cried the Baroness, making for the door, to rush down the + stairs, where she at once shrieked out, “Oh! where am I?” + </p> + <p> + This cry reached the ear of Jacques Collin, who was thus prepared to see + her. The sergeant flew after Madame la Baronne, seized her by the middle, + and lifted her back like a feather into the midst of a group of five + gendarmes, who started up as one man; for in that guardroom everything is + regarded as suspicious. The proceeding was arbitrary, but the + arbitrariness was necessary. The young lawyer himself had cried out twice, + “Madame! madame!” in his horror, so much did he fear finding himself in + the wrong. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Carlos Herrera, half fainting, sank on a chair in the guardroom. + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” said the Baroness. “Can he be a criminal?” + </p> + <p> + The words, though spoken low to the young advocate, could be heard by all, + for the silence of death reigned in that terrible guardroom. Certain + privileged persons are sometimes allowed to see famous criminals on their + way through this room or through the passages, so that the clerk and the + gendarmes who had charge of the Abbe Carlos made no remark. Also, in + consequence of the devoted zeal of the sergeant who had snatched up the + Baroness to hinder any communication between the prisoner and the + visitors, there was a considerable space between them. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go on,” said Jacques Collin, making an effort to rise. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment the little ball rolled out of his sleeve, and the spot + where it fell was noted by the Baroness, who could look about her freely + from under her veil. The little pellet, being damp and sticky, did not + roll; for such trivial details, apparently unimportant, had all been duly + considered by Jacques Collin to insure success. + </p> + <p> + When the prisoner had been led up the higher part of the steps, Asie very + unaffectedly dropped her bag and picked it up again; but in stooping she + seized the pellet which had escaped notice, its color being exactly like + that of the dust and mud on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear!” cried she, “it goes to my heart.—He is dying——” + </p> + <p> + “Or seems to be,” replied the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Asie to the lawyer, “take me at once to Monsieur Camusot; + I have come about this case; and he might be very glad to see me before + examining that poor priest.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer and the Baroness left the guardroom, with its greasy, + fuliginous walls; but as soon as they reached the top of the stairs, Asie + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, and my dog! My poor little dog!” and she rushed off like a mad + creature down the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>, asking every one where her + dog was. She got to the corridor beyond (la Galerie Marchande, or + Merchant’s Hall, as it is called), and flew to the staircase, saying, + “There he is!” + </p> + <p> + These stairs lead to the Cour de Harlay, through which Asie, having played + out the farce, passed out and took a hackney cab on the Quai des Orfevres, + where there is a stand; thus she vanished with the summons requiring + “Europe” to appear, her real name being unknown to the police and the + lawyers. + </p> + <p> + “Rue Neuve-Saint-Marc,” cried she to the driver. + </p> + <p> + Asie could depend on the absolute secrecy of an old-clothes purchaser, + known as Madame Nourrisson, who also called herself Madame de + Saint-Esteve; and who would lend Asie not merely her personality, but her + shop at need, for it was there that Nucingen had bargained for the + surrender of Esther. Asie was quite at home there, for she had a bedroom + in Madame Nourrisson’s establishment. + </p> + <p> + She paid the driver, and went up to her room, nodding to Madame Nourrisson + in a way to make her understand that she had not time to say two words to + her. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she was safe from observation, Asie unwrapped the papers with + the care of a savant unrolling a palimpsest. After reading the + instructions, she thought it wise to copy the lines intended for Lucien on + a sheet of letter-paper; then she went down to Madame Nourrisson, to whom + she talked while a little shop-girl went to fetch a cab from the Boulevard + des Italiens. She thus extracted the addresses of the Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse and of Madame de Serizy, which were known to Madame + Nourrisson by her dealings with their maids. + </p> + <p> + All this running about and elaborate business took up more than two hours. + Madame la Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, who lived at the top of the Faubourg + Saint-Honore, kept Madame de Saint-Esteve waiting an hour, although the + lady’s-maid, after knocking at the boudoir door, had handed in to her + mistress a card with Madame de Saint-Esteve’s name, on which Asie had + written, “Called about pressing business concerning Lucien.” + </p> + <p> + Her first glance at the Duchess’ face showed her how till-timed her visit + must be; she apologized for disturbing Madame la Duchesse when she was + resting, on the plea of the danger in which Lucien stood. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” asked the Duchess, without any pretence at politeness, as + she looked at Asie from head to foot; for Asie, though she might be taken + for a Baroness by Maitre Massol in the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>, when + she stood on the carpet in the boudoir of the Hotel de Cadignan, looked + like a splash of mud on a white satin gown. + </p> + <p> + “I am a dealer in cast-off clothes, Madame la Duchesse; for in such + matters every lady applies to women whose business rests on a basis of + perfect secrecy. I have never betrayed anybody, though God knows how many + great ladies have intrusted their diamonds to me by the month while + wearing false jewels made to imitate them exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “You have some other name?” said the Duchess, smiling at a reminiscence + recalled to her by this reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame la Duchesse, I am Madame de Saint-Esteve on great occasions, + but in the trade I am Madame Nourrisson.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said the Duchess in an altered tone. + </p> + <p> + “I am able to be of great service,” Asie went on, “for we hear the + husbands’ secrets as well as the wives’. I have done many little jobs for + Monsieur de Marsay, whom Madame la Duchesse——” + </p> + <p> + “That will do, that will do!” cried the Duchess. “What about Lucien?” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish to save him, madame, you must have courage enough to lose no + time in dressing. But, indeed, Madame la Duchesse, you could not look more + charming than you do at this moment. You are sweet enough to charm + anybody, take an old woman’s word for it! In short, madame, do not wait + for your carriage, but get into my hackney coach. Come to Madame de + Serizy’s if you hope to avert worse misfortunes than the death of that + cherub——” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, I will follow you,” said the Duchess after a moment’s hesitation. + “Between us we may give Leontine some courage...” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the really demoniacal activity of this Dorine of the + hulks, the clock was striking two when she and the Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse went into the Comtesse de Serizy’s house in the Rue de la + Chaussee-d’Antin. Once there, thanks to the Duchess, not an instant was + lost. The two women were at once shown up to the Countess, whom they found + reclining on a couch in a miniature chalet, surrounded by a garden + fragrant with the rarest flowers. + </p> + <p> + “That is well,” said Asie, looking about her. “No one can overhear us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear, I am half dead! Tell me, Diane, what have you done?” cried + the Duchess, starting up like a fawn, and, seizing the Duchess by the + shoulders, she melted into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Leontine; there are occasions when women like us must not + cry, but act,” said the Duchess, forcing the Countess to sit down on the + sofa by her side. + </p> + <p> + Asie studied the Countess’ face with the scrutiny peculiar to those old + hands, which pierces to the soul of a woman as certainly as a surgeon’s + instrument probes a wound!—the sorrow that engraves ineradicable + lines on the heart and on the features. She was dressed without the least + touch of vanity. She was now forty-five, and her printed muslin wrapper, + tumbled and untidy, showed her bosom without any art or even stays! Her + eyes were set in dark circles, and her mottled cheeks showed the traces of + bitter tears. She wore no sash round her waist; the embroidery on her + petticoat and shift was all crumpled. Her hair, knotted up under a lace + cap, had not been combed for four-and-twenty hours, and showed as a thin, + short plait and ragged little curls. Leontine had forgotten to put on her + false hair. + </p> + <p> + “You are in love for the first time in your life?” said Asie + sententiously. + </p> + <p> + Leontine then saw the woman and started with horror. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that, my dear Diane?” she asked of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. + </p> + <p> + “Whom should I bring with me but a woman who is devoted to Lucien and + willing to help us?” + </p> + <p> + Asie had hit the truth. Madame de Serizy, who was regarded as one of the + most fickle of fashionable women, had had an attachment of ten years’ + standing for the Marquis d’Aiglemont. Since the Marquis’ departure for the + colonies, she had gone wild about Lucien, and had won him from the + Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, knowing nothing—like the Paris world + generally—of Lucien’s passion for Esther. In the world of fashion a + recognized attachment does more to ruin a woman’s reputation than ten + unconfessed liaisons; how much more then two such attachments? However, as + no one thought of Madame de Serizy as a responsible person, the historian + cannot undertake to speak for her virtue thus doubly dog’s-eared. + </p> + <p> + She was fair, of medium height, and well preserved, as a fair woman can be + who is well preserved at all; that is to say, she did not look more than + thirty, being slender, but not lean, with a white skin and flaxen hair; + she had hands, feet, and a shape of aristocratic elegance, and was as + witty as all the Ronquerolles, spiteful, therefore, to women, and + good-natured to men. Her large fortune, her husband’s fine position, and + that of her brother, the Marquis de Ronquerolles, had protected her from + the mortifications with which any other woman would have been overwhelmed. + She had this great merit—that she was honest in her depravity, and + confessed her worship of the manners and customs of the Regency. + </p> + <p> + Now, at forty-two this woman—who had hitherto regarded men as no + more than pleasing playthings, to whom, indeed, she had, strange to say, + granted much, regarding love as merely a matter of sacrifice to gain the + upper hand,—this woman, on first seeing Lucien, had been seized with + such a passion as the Baron de Nucingen’s for Esther. She had loved, as + Asie had just told her, for the first time in her life. + </p> + <p> + This postponement of youth is more common with Parisian women than might + be supposed, and causes the ruin of some virtuous souls just as they are + reaching the haven of forty. The Duchesse de Maufrigneuse was the only + person in the secret of the vehement and absorbing passion, of which the + joys, from the girlish suspicion of first love to the preposterous follies + of fulfilment, had made Leontine half crazy and insatiable. + </p> + <p> + True love, as we know, is merciless. The discovery of Esther’s existence + had been followed by one of those outbursts of rage which in a woman rise + even to the pitch of murder; then came the phase of meanness, to which a + sincere affection humbles itself so gladly. Indeed, for the last month the + Countess would have given ten years of her life to have Lucien again for + one week. At last she had even resigned herself to accept Esther as her + rival, just when the news of her lover’s arrest had come like the last + trump on this paroxysm of devotion. + </p> + <p> + The Countess had nearly died of it. Her husband had himself nursed her in + bed, fearing the betrayal of delirium, and for twenty-four hours she had + been living with a knife in her heart. She said to her husband in her + fever: + </p> + <p> + “Save Lucien, and I will live henceforth for you alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, as Madame la Duchesse tells you, it is of no use to make your + eyes like boiled gooseberries,” cried the dreadful Asie, shaking the + Countess by the arm. “If you want to save him, there is not a minute to + lose. He is innocent—I swear it by my mother’s bones!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, of course he is!” cried the Countess, looking quite kindly at + the dreadful old woman. + </p> + <p> + “But,” Asie went on, “if Monsieur Camusot questions him the wrong way, he + can make a guilty man of him with two sentences; so, if it is in your + power to get the Conciergerie opened to you, and to say a few words to + him, go at once, and give him this paper.—He will be released + to-morrow; I will answer for it. Now, get him out of the scrape, for you + got him into it.” + </p> + <h3> + “I?” + </h3> + <p> + “Yes, you!—You fine ladies never have a son even when you own + millions. When I allowed myself the luxury of keeping boys, they always + had their pockets full of gold! Their amusements amused me. It is + delightful to be mother and mistress in one. Now, you—you let the + men you love die of hunger without asking any questions. Esther, now, made + no speeches; she gave, at the cost of perdition, soul and body, the + million your Lucien was required to show, and that is what has brought him + to this pass——” + </p> + <p> + “Poor girl! Did she do that! I love her!” said Leontine. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—now!” said Asie, with freezing irony. + </p> + <p> + “She was a real beauty; but now, my angel, you are better looking than she + is.—And Lucien’s marriage is so effectually broken off, that nothing + can mend it,” said the Duchess in a whisper to Leontine. + </p> + <p> + The effect of this revelation and forecast was so great on the Countess + that she was well again. She passed her hand over her brow; she was young + once more. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my lady, hot foot, and make haste!” said Asie, seeing the change, + and guessing what had caused it. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Madame de Maufrigneuse, “if the first thing is to prevent + Lucien’s being examined by Monsieur Camusot, we can do that by writing two + words to the judge and sending your man with it to the Palais, Leontine.” + </p> + <p> + “Then come into my room,” said Madame de Serizy. + </p> + <p> + This is what was taking place at the Palais while Lucien’s protectresses + were obeying the orders issued by Jacques Collin. The gendarmes placed the + moribund prisoner on a chair facing the window in Monsieur Camusot’s room; + he was sitting in his place in front of his table. Coquart, pen in hand, + had a little table to himself a few yards off. + </p> + <p> + The aspect of a magistrate’s chambers is not a matter of indifference; and + if this room had not been chosen intentionally, it must be owned that + chance had favored justice. An examining judge, like a painter, requires + the clear equable light of a north window, for the criminal’s face is a + picture which he must constantly study. Hence most magistrates place their + table, as this of Camusot’s was arranged, so as to sit with their back to + the window and leave the face of the examinee in broad daylight. Not one + of them all but, by the end of six months, has assumed an absent-minded + and indifferent expression, if he does not wear spectacles, and maintains + it throughout the examination. + </p> + <p> + It was a sudden change of expression in the prisoner’s face, detected by + these means, and caused by a sudden point-blank question, that led to the + discovery of the crime committed by Castaing at the very moment when, + after a long consultation with the public prosecutor, the magistrate was + about to let the criminal loose on society for lack of evidence. This + detail will show the least intelligent person how living, interesting, + curious, and dramatically terrible is the conflict of an examination—a + conflict without witnesses, but always recorded. God knows what remains on + the paper of the scenes at white heat in which a look, a tone, a quiver of + the features, the faintest touch of color lent by some emotion, has been + fraught with danger, as though the adversaries were savages watching each + other to plant a fatal stroke. A report is no more than the ashes of the + fire. + </p> + <p> + “What is your real name?” Camusot asked Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Don Carlos Herrera, canon of the Royal Chapter of Toledo, and secret + envoy of His Majesty Ferdinand VII.” + </p> + <p> + It must here be observed that Jacques Collin spoke French like a Spanish + trollop, blundering over it in such a way as to make his answers almost + unintelligible, and to require them to be repeated. But Monsieur de + Nucingen’s German barbarisms have already weighted this Scene too much to + allow of the introduction of other sentences no less difficult to read, + and hindering the rapid progress of the tale. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have papers to prove your right to the dignities of which you + speak?” asked Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur—my passport, a letter from his Catholic Majesty + authorizing my mission.—In short, if you will but send at once to + the Spanish Embassy two lines, which I will write in your presence, I + shall be identified. Then, if you wish for further evidence, I will write + to His Eminence the High Almoner of France, and he will immediately send + his private secretary.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you still pretend that you are dying?” asked the magistrate. “If + you have really gone through all the sufferings you have complained of + since your arrest, you ought to be dead by this time,” said Camusot + ironically. + </p> + <p> + “You are simply trying the courage of an innocent man and the strength of + his constitution,” said the prisoner mildly. + </p> + <p> + “Coquart, ring. Send for the prison doctor and an infirmary attendant.—We + shall be obliged to remove your coat and proceed to verify the marks on + your shoulder,” Camusot went on. + </p> + <p> + “I am in your hands, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner then inquired whether the magistrate would be kind enough to + explain to him what he meant by “the marks,” and why they should be sought + on his shoulder. The judge was prepared for this question. + </p> + <p> + “You are suspected of being Jacques Collin, an escaped convict, whose + daring shrinks at nothing, not even at sacrilege!” said Camusot promptly, + his eyes fixed on those of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin gave no sign, and did not color; he remained quite calm, + and assumed an air of guileless curiosity as he gazed at Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “I, monsieur? A convict? May the Order I belong to and God above forgive + you for such an error. Tell me what I can do to prevent your continuing to + offer such an insult to the rights of free men, to the Church, and to the + King my master.” + </p> + <p> + The judge made no reply to this, but explained to the Abbe that if he had + been branded, a penalty at that time inflicted by law on all convicts sent + to the hulks, the letters could be made to show by giving him a slap on + the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur,” said Jacques Collin, “it would indeed be unfortunate if my + devotion to the Royal cause should prove fatal to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain yourself,” said the judge, “that is what you are here for.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, I must have a great many scars on my back, for I was shot + in the back as a traitor to my country while I was faithful to my King, by + constitutionalists who left me for dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You were shot, and you are alive!” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “I had made friends with some of the soldiers, to whom certain pious + persons had sent money, so they placed me so far off that only spent balls + reached me, and the men aimed at my back. This is a fact that His + Excellency the Ambassador can bear witness to——” + </p> + <p> + “This devil of a man has an answer for everything! However, so much the + better,” thought Camusot, who assumed so much severity only to satisfy the + demands of justice and of the police. “How is it that a man of your + character,” he went on, addressing the convict, “should have been found in + the house of the Baron de Nucingen’s mistress—and such a mistress, a + girl who had been a common prostitute!” + </p> + <p> + “This is why I was found in a courtesan’s house, monsieur,” replied + Jacques Collin. “But before telling you the reasons for my being there, I + ought to mention that at the moment when I was just going upstairs I was + seized with the first attack of my illness, and I had no time to speak to + the girl. I knew of Mademoiselle Esther’s intention of killing herself; + and as young Lucien de Rubempre’s interests were involved, and I have a + particular affection for him for sacredly secret reasons, I was going to + try to persuade the poor creature to give up the idea, suggested to her by + despair. I meant to tell her that Lucien must certainly fail in his last + attempt to win Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu; and I hoped that by + telling her she had inherited seven millions of francs, I might give her + courage to live. + </p> + <p> + “I am convinced, Monsieur le Juge, that I am a martyr to the secrets + confided to me. By the suddenness of my illness I believe that I had been + poisoned that very morning, but my strong constitution has saved me. I + know that a certain agent of the political police is dogging me, and + trying to entangle me in some discreditable business. + </p> + <p> + “If, at my request, you had sent for a doctor on my arrival here, you + would have had ample proof of what I am telling you as to the state of my + health. Believe me, monsieur, some persons far above our heads have some + strong interest in getting me mistaken for some villain, so as to have a + right to get rid of me. It is not all profit to serve a king; they have + their meannesses. The Church alone is faultless.” + </p> + <p> + It is impossible to do justice to the play of Jacques Collin’s countenance + as he carefully spun out his speech, sentence by sentence, for ten + minutes; and it was all so plausible, especially the mention of Corentin, + that the lawyer was shaken. + </p> + <p> + “Will you confide to me the reasons of your affection for Monsieur Lucien + de Rubempre?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not guess them? I am sixty years of age, monsieur—I implore + you do not write it.—It is because—must I say it?” + </p> + <p> + “It will be to your own advantage, and more particularly to Monsieur + Lucien de Rubempre’s, if you tell everything,” replied the judge. + </p> + <p> + “Because he is—Oh, God! he is my son,” he gasped out with an effort. + </p> + <p> + And he fainted away. + </p> + <p> + “Do not write that down, Coquart,” said Camusot in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + Coquart rose to fetch a little phial of “Four thieves’ Vinegar.” + </p> + <p> + “If he is Jacques Collin, he is a splendid actor!” thought Camusot. + </p> + <p> + Coquart held the phial under the convict’s nose, while the judge examined + him with the keen eye of a lynx—and a magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Take his wig off,” said Camusot, after waiting till the man recovered + consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin heard, and quaked with terror, for he knew how vile an + expression his face would assume. + </p> + <p> + “If you have not strength enough to take your wig off yourself——Yes, + Coquart, remove it,” said Camusot to his clerk. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin bent his head to the clerk with admirable resignation; but + then his head, bereft of that adornment, was hideous to behold in its + natural aspect. + </p> + <p> + The sight of it left Camusot in the greatest uncertainty. While waiting + for the doctor and the man from the infirmary, he set to work to classify + and examine the various papers and the objects seized in Lucien’s rooms. + After carrying out their functions in the Rue Saint-Georges at + Mademoiselle Esther’s house, the police had searched the rooms at the Quai + Malaquais. + </p> + <p> + “You have your hand on some letters from the Comtesse de Serizy,” said + Carlos Herrera. “But I cannot imagine why you should have almost all + Lucien’s papers,” he added, with a smile of overwhelming irony at the + judge. + </p> + <p> + Camusot, as he saw the smile, understood the bearing of the word “almost.” + </p> + <p> + “Lucien de Rubempre is in custody under suspicion of being your + accomplice,” said he, watching to see the effect of this news on his + examinee. + </p> + <p> + “You have brought about a great misfortune, for he is as innocent as I + am,” replied the sham Spaniard, without betraying the smallest agitation. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see. We have not as yet established your identity,” Camusot + observed, surprised at the prisoner’s indifference. “If you are really Don + Carlos Herrera, the position of Lucien Chardon will at once be completely + altered.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure, she became Madame Chardon—Mademoiselle de Rubempre!” + murmured Carlos. “Ah! that was one of the greatest sins of my life.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyes to heaven, and by the movement of his lips seemed to be + uttering a fervent prayer. + </p> + <p> + “But if you are Jacques Collin, and if he was, and knew that he was, the + companion of an escaped convict, a sacrilegious wretch, all the crimes of + which he is suspected by the law are more than probably true.” + </p> + <p> + Carlos Herrera sat like bronze as he heard this speech, very cleverly + delivered by the judge, and his only reply to the words “<i>knew that he + was</i>” and “<i>escaped convict</i>” was to lift his hands to heaven with + a gesture of noble and dignified sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur l’Abbe,” Camusot went on, with the greatest politeness, “if you + are Don Carlos Herrera, you will forgive us for what we are obliged to do + in the interests of justice and truth.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin detected a snare in the lawyer’s very voice as he spoke the + words “Monsieur l’Abbe.” The man’s face never changed; Camusot had looked + for a gleam of joy, which might have been the first indication of his + being a convict, betraying the exquisite satisfaction of a criminal + deceiving his judge; but this hero of the hulks was strong in + Machiavellian dissimulation. + </p> + <p> + “I am accustomed to diplomacy, and I belong to an Order of very austere + discipline,” replied Jacques Collin, with apostolic mildness. “I + understand everything, and am inured to suffering. I should be free by + this time if you had discovered in my room the hiding-place where I keep + my papers—for I see you have none but unimportant documents.” + </p> + <p> + This was a finishing stroke to Camusot: Jacques Collin by his air of ease + and simplicity had counteracted all the suspicions to which his + appearance, unwigged, had given rise. + </p> + <p> + “Where are these papers?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you exactly if you will get a secretary from the Spanish + Embassy to accompany your messenger. He will take them and be answerable + to you for the documents, for it is to me a matter of confidential duty—diplomatic + secrets which would compromise his late Majesty Louis XVIII—Indeed, + monsieur, it would be better——However, you are a magistrate—and, + after all, the Ambassador, to whom I refer the whole question, must + decide.” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture the usher announced the arrival of the doctor and the + infirmary attendant, who came in. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Monsieur Lebrun,” said Camusot to the doctor. “I have sent + for you to examine the state of health of this prisoner under suspicion. + He says he had been poisoned and at the point of death since the day + before yesterday; see if there is any risk in undressing him to look for + the brand.” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Lebrun took Jacques Collin’s hand, felt his pulse, asked to look at + his tongue, and scrutinized him steadily. This inspection lasted about ten + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “The prisoner has been suffering severely,” said the medical officer, “but + at this moment he is amazingly strong——” + </p> + <p> + “That spurious energy, monsieur, is due to nervous excitement caused by my + strange position,” said Jacques Collin, with the dignity of a bishop. + </p> + <p> + “That is possible,” said Monsieur Lebrun. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from Camusot the prisoner was stripped of everything but his + trousers, even of his shirt, and the spectators might admire the hairy + torso of a Cyclops. It was that of the Farnese Hercules at Naples in its + colossal exaggeration. + </p> + <p> + “For what does nature intend a man of this build?” said Lebrun to the + judge. + </p> + <p> + The usher brought in the ebony staff, which from time immemorial has been + the insignia of his office, and is called his rod; he struck it several + times over the place where the executioner had branded the fatal letters. + Seventeen spots appeared, irregularly distributed, but the most careful + scrutiny could not recognize the shape of any letters. The usher indeed + pointed out that the top bar of the letter T was shown by two spots, with + an interval between of the length of that bar between the two points at + each end of it, and there was another spot where the bottom of the T + should be. + </p> + <p> + “Still that is quite uncertain,” said Camusot, seeing doubt in the + expression of the prison doctor’s countenance. + </p> + <p> + Carlos begged them to make the same experiment on the other shoulder and + the middle of his back. About fifteen more such scars appeared, which, at + the Spaniard’s request, the doctor made a note of; and he pronounced that + the man’s back had been so extensively seamed by wounds that the brand + would not show even if it had been made by the executioner. + </p> + <p> + An office-clerk now came in from the Prefecture, and handed a note to + Monsieur Camusot, requesting an answer. After reading it the lawyer went + to speak to Coquart, but in such a low voice that no one could catch a + word. Only, by a glance from Camusot, Jacques Collin could guess that some + information concerning him had been sent by the Prefet of Police. + </p> + <p> + “That friend of Peyrade’s is still at my heels,” thought Jacques Collin. + “If only I knew him, I would get rid of him as I did of Contenson. If only + I could see Asie once more!” + </p> + <p> + After signing a paper written by Coquart, the judge put it into an + envelope and handed it to the clerk of the Delegate’s office. + </p> + <p> + This is an indispensable auxiliary to justice. It is under the direction + of a police commissioner, and consists of peace-officers who, with the + assistance of the police commissioners of each district, carry into effect + orders for searching the houses or apprehending the persons of those who + are suspected of complicity in crimes and felonies. These functionaries in + authority save the examining magistrates a great deal of very precious + time. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from the judge the prisoner was dressed by Monsieur Lebrun and + the attendant, who then withdrew with the usher. Camusot sat down at his + table and played with his pen. + </p> + <p> + “You have an aunt,” he suddenly said to Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “An aunt?” echoed Don Carlos Herrera with amazement. “Why, monsieur, I + have no relations. I am the unacknowledged son of the late Duke of + Ossuna.” + </p> + <p> + But to himself he said, “They are burning”—an allusion to the game + of hot cockles, which is indeed a childlike symbol of the dreadful + struggle between justice and the criminal. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Camusot. “You still have an aunt living, Mademoiselle + Jacqueline Collin, whom you placed in Esther’s service under the eccentric + name of Asie.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin shrugged his shoulders with an indifference that was in + perfect harmony with the cool curiosity he gave throughout to the judge’s + words, while Camusot studied him with cunning attention. + </p> + <p> + “Take care,” said Camusot; “listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am listening, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You aunt is a wardrobe dealer at the Temple; her business is managed by a + demoiselle Paccard, the sister of a convict—herself a very good + girl, known as la Romette. Justice is on the traces of your aunt, and in a + few hours we shall have decisive evidence. The woman is wholly devoted to + you——” + </p> + <p> + “Pray go on, Monsieur le Juge,” said Collin coolly, in answer to a pause; + “I am listening to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Your aunt, who is about five years older than you are, was formerly + Marat’s mistress—of odious memory. From that blood-stained source + she derived the little fortune she possesses. + </p> + <p> + “From information I have received she must be a very clever receiver of + stolen goods, for no proofs have yet been found to commit her on. After + Marat’s death she seems, from the notes I have here, to have lived with a + chemist who was condemned to death in the year XII. for issuing false + coin. She was called as witness in the case. It was from this intimacy + that she derived her knowledge of poisons. + </p> + <p> + “In 1812 and in 1816 she spent two years in prison for placing girls under + age upon the streets. + </p> + <p> + “You were already convicted of forgery; you had left the banking house + where your aunt had been able to place you as clerk, thanks to the + education you had had, and the favor enjoyed by your aunt with certain + persons for whose debaucheries she supplied victims. + </p> + <p> + “All this, prisoner, is not much like the dignity of the Dukes d’Ossuna. + </p> + <p> + “Do you persist in your denial?” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin sat listening to Monsieur Camusot, and thinking of his + happy childhood at the College of the Oratorians, where he had been + brought up, a meditation which lent him a truly amazed look. And in spite + of his skill as a practised examiner, Camusot could bring no sort of + expression to those placid features. + </p> + <p> + “If you have accurately recorded the account of myself I gave you at + first,” said Jacques Collin, “you can read it through again. I cannot + alter the facts. I never went to the woman’s house; how should I know who + her cook was? The persons of whom you speak are utterly unknown to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Notwithstanding your denial, we shall proceed to confront you with + persons who may succeed in diminishing your assurance” + </p> + <p> + “A man who has been three times shot is used to anything,” replied Jacques + Collin meekly. + </p> + <p> + Camusot proceeded to examine the seized papers while awaiting the return + of the famous Bibi-Lupin, whose expedition was amazing; for at half-past + eleven, the inquiry having begun at ten o’clock, the usher came in to + inform the judge in an undertone of Bibi-Lupin’s arrival. + </p> + <p> + “Show him in,” replied M. Camusot. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin, who had been expected to exclaim, “It is he,” as he came in, + stood puzzled. He did not recognize his man in a face pitted with + smallpox. This hesitancy startled the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “It is his build, his height,” said the agent. “Oh! yes, it is you, + Jacques Collin!” he went on, as he examined his eyes, forehead, and ears. + “There are some things which no disguise can alter.... Certainly it is he, + Monsieur Camusot. Jacques has the scar of a cut on his left arm. Take off + his coat, and you will see...” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin was again obliged to take off his coat; Bibi-Lupin turned + up his sleeve and showed the scar he had spoken of. + </p> + <p> + “It is the scar of a bullet,” replied Don Carlos Herrera. “Here are + several more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! It is certainly his voice,” cried Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + “Your certainty,” said Camusot, “is merely an opinion; it is not proof.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said Bibi-Lupin with deference. “But I will bring + witnesses. One of the boarders from the Maison Vauquer is here already,” + said he, with an eye on Collin. + </p> + <p> + But the prisoner’s set, calm face did not move a muscle. + </p> + <p> + “Show the person in,” said Camusot roughly, his dissatisfaction betraying + itself in spite of his seeming indifference. + </p> + <p> + This irritation was not lost on Jacques Collin, who had not counted on the + judge’s sympathy, and sat lost in apathy, produced by his deep meditations + in the effort to guess what the cause could be. + </p> + <p> + The usher now showed in Madame Poiret. At this unexpected appearance the + prisoner had a slight shiver, but his trepidation was not remarked by + Camusot, who seemed to have made up his mind. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” asked he, proceeding to carry out the formalities + introductory to all depositions and examinations. + </p> + <p> + Madame Poiret, a little old woman as white and wrinkled as a sweetbread, + dressed in a dark-blue silk gown, gave her name as Christine Michelle + Michonneau, wife of one Poiret, and her age as fifty-one years, said that + she was born in Paris, lived in the Rue des Poules at the corner of the + Rue des Postes, and that her business was that of lodging-house keeper. + </p> + <p> + “In 1818 and 1819,” said the judge, “you lived, madame, in a + boarding-house kept by a Madame Vauquer?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur; it was there that I met Monsieur Poiret, a retired + official, who became my husband, and whom I have nursed in his bed this + twelvemonth past. Poor man! he is very bad; and I cannot be long away from + him.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a certain Vautrin in the house at the time?” asked Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur, that is quite a long story; he was a horrible man, from the + galleys——” + </p> + <p> + “You helped to get him arrested?” + </p> + <p> + “That is not true sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You are in the presence of the Law; be careful,” said Monsieur Camusot + severely. + </p> + <p> + Madame Poiret was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Try to remember,” Camusot went on. “Do you recollect the man? Would you + know him again?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this the man?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Poiret put on her “eye-preservers,” and looked at the Abbe Carlos + Herrera. + </p> + <p> + “It is his build, his height; and yet—no—if—Monsieur le + Juge,” she said, “if I could see his chest I should recognize him at + once.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate and his clerk could not help laughing, notwithstanding the + gravity of their office; Jacques Collin joined in their hilarity, but + discreetly. The prisoner had not put on his coat after Bibi-Lupin had + removed it, and at a sign from the judge he obligingly opened his shirt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is his fur trimming, sure enough!—But it has worn gray, + Monsieur Vautrin,” cried Madame Poiret. + </p> + <p> + “What have you to say to that?” asked the judge of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “That she is mad,” replied Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! If I had a doubt—for his face is altered—that voice + would be enough. He is the man who threatened me. Ah! and those are his + eyes!” + </p> + <p> + “The police agent and this woman,” said Camusot, speaking to Jacques + Collin, “cannot possibly have conspired to say the same thing, for neither + of them had seen you till now. How do you account for that?” + </p> + <p> + “Justice has blundered more conspicuously even than it does now in + accepting the evidence of a woman who recognizes a man by the hair on his + chest and the suspicions of a police agent,” replied Jacques Collin. “I am + said to resemble a great criminal in voice, eyes, and build; that seems a + little vague. As to the memory which would prove certain relations between + Madame and my Sosie—which she does not blush to own—you + yourself laughed at. Allow me, monsieur, in the interests of truth, which + I am far more anxious to establish for my own sake than you can be for the + sake of justice, to ask this lady—Madame Foiret——” + </p> + <p> + “Poiret.” + </p> + <p> + “Poret—excuse me, I am a Spaniard—whether she remembers the + other persons who lived in this—what did you call the house?” + </p> + <p> + “A boarding-house,” said Madame Poiret. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what that is.” + </p> + <p> + “A house where you can dine and breakfast by subscription.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Camusot, with a favorable nod to Jacques Collin, + whose apparent good faith in suggesting means to arrive at some conclusion + struck him greatly. “Try to remember the boarders who were in the house + when Jacques Collin was apprehended.” + </p> + <p> + “There were Monsieur de Rastignac, Doctor Bianchon, Pere Goriot, + Mademoiselle Taillefer——” + </p> + <p> + “That will do,” said Camusot, steadily watching Jacques Collin, whose + expression did not change. “Well, about this Pere Goriot?” + </p> + <p> + “He is dead,” said Madame Poiret. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Jacques Collin, “I have several times met Monsieur de + Rastignac, a friend, I believe, of Madame de Nucingen’s; and if it is the + same, he certainly never supposed me to be the convict with whom these + persons try to identify me.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Rastignac and Doctor Bianchon,” said the magistrate, “both + hold such a social position that their evidence, if it is in your favor, + will be enough to procure your release.—Coquart, fill up a summons + for each of them.” + </p> + <p> + The formalities attending Madame Poiret’s examination were over in a few + minutes; Coquart read aloud to her the notes he had made of the little + scene, and she signed the paper; but the prisoner refused to sign, + alleging his ignorance of the forms of French law. + </p> + <p> + “That is enough for to-day,” said Monsieur Camusot. “You must be wanting + food. I will have you taken back to the Conciergerie.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I am suffering too much to be able to eat,” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + Camusot was anxious to time Jacques Collin’s return to coincide with the + prisoners’ hour of exercise in the prison yard; but he needed a reply from + the Governor of the Conciergerie to the order he had given him in the + morning, and he rang for the usher. The usher appeared, and told him that + the porter’s wife, from the house on the Quai Malaquais, had an important + document to communicate with reference to Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre. + This was so serious a matter that it put Camusot’s intentions out of his + head. + </p> + <p> + “Show her in,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Beg your pardon; pray excuse me, gentlemen all,” said the woman, + courtesying to the judge and the Abbe Carlos by turns. “We were so worried + by the Law—my husband and me—the twice when it has marched + into our house, that we had forgotten a letter that was lying, for + Monsieur Lucien, in our chest of drawers, which we paid ten sous for it, + though it was posted in Paris, for it is very heavy, sir. Would you please + to pay me back the postage? For God knows when we shall see our lodgers + again!” + </p> + <p> + “Was this letter handed to you by the postman?” asked Camusot, after + carefully examining the envelope. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Coquart, write full notes of this deposition.—Go on, my good woman; + tell us your name and your business.” Camusot made the woman take the + oath, and then he dictated the document. + </p> + <p> + While these formalities were being carried out, he was scrutinizing the + postmark, which showed the hours of posting and delivery, as well at the + date of the day. And this letter, left for Lucien the day after Esther’s + death, had beyond a doubt been written and posted on the day of the + catastrophe. Monsieur Camusot’s amazement may therefore be imagined when + he read this letter written and signed by her whom the law believed to + have been the victim of a crime:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>Esther to Lucien</i>. + + “MONDAY, May 13th, 1830. + + “My last day; ten in the morning. + + “MY LUCIEN,—I have not an hour to live. At eleven o’clock I shall + be dead, and I shall die without a pang. I have paid fifty + thousand francs for a neat little black currant, containing a + poison that will kill me with the swiftness of lightning. And so, + my darling, you may tell yourself, ‘My little Esther had no + suffering.’—and yet I shall suffer in writing these pages. + + “The monster who has paid so dear for me, knowing that the day + when I should know myself to be his would have no morrow—Nucingen + has just left me, as drunk as a bear with his skin full of wind. + For the first and last time in my life I have had the opportunity + of comparing my old trade as a street hussy with the life of true + love, of placing the tenderness which unfolds in the infinite + above the horrors of a duty which longs to destroy itself and + leave no room even for a kiss. Only such loathing could make death + delightful. + + “I have taken a bath; I should have liked to send for the father + confessor of the convent where I was baptized, to have confessed + and washed my soul. But I have had enough of prostitution; it + would be profaning a sacrament; and besides, I feel myself + cleansed in the waters of sincere repentance. God must do what He + will with me. + + “But enough of all this maudlin; for you I want to be your Esther + to the last moment, not to bore you with my death, or the future, + or God, who is good, and who would not be good if He were to + torture me in the next world when I have endured so much misery in + this. + + “I have before me your beautiful portrait, painted by Madame de + Mirbel. That sheet of ivory used to comfort me in your absence, I + look at it with rapture as I write you my last thoughts, and tell + you of the last throbbing of my heart. I shall enclose the + miniature in this letter, for I cannot bear that it should be + stolen or sold. The mere thought that what has been my great joy + may lie behind a shop window, mixed up with the ladies and + officers of the Empire, or a parcel of Chinese absurdities, is a + small death to me. Destroy that picture, my sweetheart, wipe it + out, never give it to any one—unless, indeed, the gift might win + back the heart of that walking, well-dressed maypole, that + Clotilde de Grandlieu, who will make you black and blue in her + sleep, her bones are so sharp.—Yes, to that I consent, and then I + shall still be of some use to you, as when I was alive. Oh! to + give you pleasure, or only to make you laugh, I would have stood + over a brazier with an apple in my mouth to cook it for you.—So + my death even will be of service to you.—I should have marred + your home. + + “Oh! that Clotilde! I cannot understand her.—She might have been + your wife, have borne your name, have never left you day or night, + have belonged to you—and she could make difficulties! Only the + Faubourg Saint-Germain can do that! and yet she has not ten pounds + of flesh on her bones! + + “Poor Lucien! Dear ambitious failure! I am thinking of your future + life. Well, well! you will more than once regret your poor + faithful dog, the good girl who would fly to serve you, who would + have been dragged into a police court to secure your happiness, + whose only occupation was to think of your pleasures and invent + new ones, who was so full of love for you—in her hair, her feet, + her ears—your ballerina, in short, whose every look was a + benediction; who for six years has thought of nothing but you, who + was so entirely your chattel that I have never been anything but + an effluence of your soul, as light is that of the sun. However, + for lack of money and of honor, I can never be your wife. I have + at any rate provided for your future by giving you all I have. + + “Come as soon as you get this letter and take what you find under + my pillow, for I do not trust the people about me. Understand that + I mean to look beautiful when I am dead. I shall go to bed, and + lay myself flat in an attitude—why not? Then I shall break the + little pill against the roof of my mouth, and shall not be + disfigured by any convulsion or by a ridiculous position. + + “Madame de Serizy has quarreled with you, I know, because of me; + but when she hears that I am dead, you see, dear pet, she will + forgive. Make it up with her, and she will find you a suitable + wife if the Grandlieus persist in their refusal. + + “My dear, I do not want you to grieve too much when you hear of my + death. To begin with, I must tell you that the hour of eleven on + Monday morning, the thirteenth of May, is only the end of a long + illness, which began on the day when, on the Terrace of + Saint-Germain, you threw me back on my former line of life. The soul + may be sick, as the body is. But the soul cannot submit stupidly to + suffering like the body; the body does not uphold the soul as the + soul upholds the body, and the soul sees a means of cure in the + reflection which leads to the needlewoman’s resource—the bushel + of charcoal. You gave me a whole life the day before yesterday, + when you said that if Clotilde still refused you, you would marry + me. It would have been a great misfortune for us both; I should + have been still more dead, so to speak—for there are more and + less bitter deaths. The world would never have recognized us. + + “For two months past I have been thinking of many things, I can + tell you. A poor girl is in the mire, as I was before I went into + the convent; men think her handsome, they make her serve their + pleasure without thinking any consideration necessary; they pack + her off on foot after fetching her in a carriage; if they do not + spit in her face, it is only because her beauty preserves her from + such indignity; but, morally speaking they do worse. Well, and if + this despised creature were to inherit five or six millions of + francs, she would be courted by princes, bowed to with respect as + she went past in her carriage, and might choose among the oldest + names in France and Navarre. That world which would have cried + Raca to us, on seeing two handsome creatures united and happy, + always did honor to Madame de Stael, in spite of her ‘romances in + real life,’ because she had two hundred thousand francs a year. + The world, which grovels before money or glory, will not bow down + before happiness or virtue—for I could have done good. Oh! how + many tears I would have dried—as many as I have shed—I believe! + Yes, I would have lived only for you and for charity. + + “These are the thoughts that make death beautiful. So do not + lament, my dear. Say often to yourself, ‘There were two good + creatures, two beautiful creatures, who both died for me + ungrudgingly, and who adored me.’ Keep a memory in your heart of + Coralie and Esther, and go your way and prosper. Do you recollect + the day when you pointed out to me a shriveled old woman, in a + melon-green bonnet and a puce wrapper, all over black + grease-spots, the mistress of a poet before the Revolution, hardly + thawed by the sun though she was sitting against the wall of the + Tuileries and fussing over a pug—the vilest of pugs? She had had + footmen and carriages, you know, and a fine house! And I said to + you then, ‘How much better to be dead at thirty!’—Well, you + thought I was melancholy, and you played all sorts of pranks to + amuse me, and between two kisses I said, ‘Every day some pretty + woman leaves the play before it is over!’—And I do not want to + see the last piece; that is all. + + “You must think me a great chatterbox; but this is my last + effusion. I write as if I were talking to you, and I like to talk + cheerfully. I have always had a horror of a dressmaker pitying + herself. You know I knew how to die decently once before, on my + return from that fatal opera-ball where the men said I had been a + prostitute. + + “No, no, my dear love, never give this portrait to any one! If you + could know with what a gush of love I have sat losing myself in + your eyes, looking at them with rapture during a pause I allowed + myself, you would feel as you gathered up the affection with which + I have tried to overlay the ivory, that the soul of your little + pet is indeed there. + + “A dead woman craving alms! That is a funny idea.—Come, I must + learn to lie quiet in my grave. + + “You have no idea how heroic my death would seem to some fools if + they could know Nucingen last night offered me two millions of + francs if I would love him as I love you. He will be handsomely + robbed when he hears that I have kept my word and died of him. I + tried all I could still to breathe the air you breathe. I said to + the fat scoundrel, ‘Do you want me to love you as you wish? To + promise even that I will never see Lucien again?’—‘What must I + do?’ he asked.—‘Give me the two millions for him.’—You should + have seen his face! I could have laughed, if it had not been so + tragical for me. + + “‘Spare yourself the trouble of refusing,’ said I; ‘I see you + care more for your two millions than for me. A woman is always + glad to know at what she is valued!’ and I turned my back on him. + + “In a few hours the old rascal will know that I was not in jest. + + “Who will part your hair as nicely as I do? Pooh!—I will think no + more of anything in life; I have but five minutes, I give them to + God. Do not be jealous of Him, dear heart; I shall speak to Him of + you, beseeching Him for your happiness as the price of my death, + and my punishment in the next world. I am vexed enough at having + to go to hell. I should have liked to see the angels, to know if + they are like you. + + “Good-bye, my darling, good-bye! I give you all the blessing of my + woes. Even in the grave I am your Esther. + + “It is striking eleven. I have said my last prayers. I am going to + bed to die. Once more, farewell! I wish that the warmth of my hand + could leave my soul there where I press a last kiss—and once more + I must call you my dearest love, though you are the cause of the + death of your Esther.” + </pre> + <p> + A vague feeling of jealousy tightened on the magistrate’s heart as he read + this letter, the only letter from a suicide he had ever found written with + such lightness, though it was a feverish lightness, and the last effort of + a blind affection. + </p> + <p> + “What is there in the man that he should be loved so well?” thought he, + saying what every man says who has not the gift of attracting women. + </p> + <p> + “If you can prove not merely that you are not Jacques Collin and an + escaped convict, but that you are in fact Don Carlos Herrera, canon of + Toledo, and secret envoy of this Majesty Ferdinand VII.,” said he, + addressing the prisoner “you will be released; for the impartiality + demanded by my office requires me to tell you that I have this moment + received a letter, written by Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck, in which she + declares her intention of killing herself, and expresses suspicions as to + her servants, which would seem to point to them as the thieves who have + made off with the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke Monsieur Camusot was comparing the writing of the letter with + that of the will; and it seemed to him self-evident that the same person + had written both. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you were in too great a hurry to believe in a murder; do not be + too hasty in believing in a theft.” + </p> + <p> + “Heh!” said Camusot, scrutinizing the prisoner with a piercing eye. + </p> + <p> + “Do not suppose that I am compromising myself by telling you that the sum + may possibly be recovered,” said Jacques Collin, making the judge + understand that he saw his suspicions. “That poor girl was much loved by + those about her; and if I were free, I would undertake to search for this + money, which no doubt belongs to the being I love best in the world—to + Lucien!—Will you allow me to read that letter; it will not take + long? It is evidence of my dear boy’s innocence—you cannot fear that + I shall destroy it—nor that I shall talk about it; I am in solitary + confinement.” + </p> + <p> + “In confinement! You will be so no longer,” cried the magistrate. “It is I + who must beg you to get well as soon as possible. Refer to your ambassador + if you choose——” + </p> + <p> + And he handed the letter to Jacques Collin. Camusot was glad to be out of + a difficulty, to be able to satisfy the public prosecutor, Mesdames de + Maufrigneuse and de Serizy. Nevertheless, he studied his prisoner’s face + with cold curiosity while Collin read Esther’s letter; in spite of the + apparent genuineness of the feelings it expressed, he said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “But it is a face worthy of the hulks, all the same!” + </p> + <p> + “That is the way to love!” said Jacques Collin, returning the letter. And + he showed Camusot a face bathed in tears. + </p> + <p> + “If only you knew him,” he went on, “so youthful, so innocent a soul, so + splendidly handsome, a child, a poet!—The impulse to sacrifice + oneself to him is irresistible, to satisfy his lightest wish. That dear + boy is so fascinating when he chooses——” + </p> + <p> + “And so,” said the magistrate, making a final effort to discover the + truth, “you cannot possibly be Jacques Collin——” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur,” replied the convict. + </p> + <p> + And Jacques Collin was more entirely Don Carlos Herrera than ever. In his + anxiety to complete his work he went up to the judge, led him to the + window, and gave himself the airs of a prince of the Church, assuming a + confidential tone: + </p> + <p> + “I am so fond of that boy, monsieur, that if it were needful, to spare + that idol of my heart a mere discomfort even, that I should be the + criminal you take me for, I would surrender,” said he in an undertone. “I + would follow the example of the poor girl who has killed herself for his + benefit. And I beg you, monsieur, to grant me a favor—namely, to set + Lucien at liberty forthwith.” + </p> + <p> + “My duty forbids it,” said Camusot very good-naturedly; “but if a sinner + may make a compromise with heaven, justice too has its softer side, and if + you can give me sufficient reasons—speak; your words will not be + taken down.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” Jacques Collin went on, taken in by Camusot’s apparent + goodwill, “I know what that poor boy is suffering at this moment; he is + capable of trying to kill himself when he finds himself a prisoner——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as to that!” said Camusot with a shrug. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know whom you will oblige by obliging me,” added Jacques + Collin, trying to harp on another string. “You will be doing a service to + others more powerful than any Comtesse de Serizy or Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse, who will never forgive you for having had their letters in + your chambers——” and he pointed to two packets of perfumed + papers. “My Order has a good memory.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Camusot, “that is enough. You must find better reasons to + give me. I am as much interested in the prisoner as in public vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, then, I know Lucien; he has a soul of a woman, of a poet, and + a southerner, without persistency or will,” said Jacques Collin, who + fancied that he saw that he had won the judge over. “You are convinced of + the young man’s innocence, do not torture him, do not question him. Give + him that letter, tell him that he is Esther’s heir, and restore him to + freedom. If you act otherwise, you will bring despair on yourself; + whereas, if you simply release him, I will explain to you—keep me + still in solitary confinement—to-morrow or this evening, everything + that may strike you as mysterious in the case, and the reasons for the + persecution of which I am the object. But it will be at the risk of my + life, a price has been set on my head these six years past.... Lucien + free, rich, and married to Clotilde de Grandlieu, and my task on earth + will be done; I shall no longer try to save my skin.—My persecutor + was a spy under your late King.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Corentin?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Is his name Corentin? Thank you, monsieur. Well, will you promise to + do as I ask you?” + </p> + <p> + “A magistrate can make no promises.—Coquart, tell the usher and the + gendarmes to take the prisoner back to the Conciergerie.—I will give + orders that you are to have a private room,” he added pleasantly, with a + slight nod to the convict. + </p> + <p> + Struck by Jacques Collin’s request, and remembering how he had insisted + that he wished to be examined first as a privilege to his state of health, + Camusot’s suspicions were aroused once more. Allowing his vague doubts to + make themselves heard, he noticed that the self-styled dying man was + walking off with the strength of a Hercules, having abandoned all the + tricks he had aped so well on appearing before the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Notwithstanding your refusal to sign the document, my clerk will read you + the minutes of your examination.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner was evidently in excellent health; the readiness with which + he came back, and sat down by the clerk, was a fresh light to the + magistrate’s mind. + </p> + <p> + “You have got well very suddenly!” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Caught!” thought Jacques Collin; and he replied: + </p> + <p> + “Joy, monsieur, is the only panacea.—That letter, the proof of + innocence of which I had no doubt—these are the grand remedy.” + </p> + <p> + The judge kept a meditative eye on the prisoner when the usher and the + gendarmes again took him in charge. Then, with a start like a waking man, + he tossed Esther’s letter across to the table where his clerk sat, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Coquart, copy that letter.” + </p> + <p> + If it is natural to man to be suspicious as to some favor required of him + when it is antagonistic to his interests or his duty, and sometimes even + when it is a matter of indifference, this feeling is law to an examining + magistrate. The more this prisoner—whose identity was not yet + ascertained—pointed to clouds on the horizon in the event of + Lucien’s being examined, the more necessary did the interrogatory seem to + Camusot. Even if this formality had not been required by the Code and by + common practice, it was indispensable as bearing on the identification of + the Abbe Carlos. There is in every walk of life the business conscience. + In default of curiosity Camusot would have examined Lucien as he had + examined Jacques Collin, with all the cunning which the most honest + magistrate allows himself to use in such cases. The services he might + render and his own promotion were secondary in Camusot’s mind to his + anxiety to know or guess the truth, even if he should never tell it. + </p> + <p> + He stood drumming on the window-pane while following the river-like + current of his conjectures, for in these moods thought is like a stream + flowing through many countries. Magistrates, in love with truth, are like + jealous women; they give way to a thousand hypotheses, and probe them with + the dagger-point of suspicion, as the sacrificing priest of old + eviscerated his victims; thus they arrive, not perhaps at truth, but at + probability, and at last see the truth beyond. A woman cross-questions the + man she loves as the judge cross-questions a criminal. In such a frame of + mind, a glance, a word, a tone of voice, the slightest hesitation is + enough to certify the hidden fact—treason or crime. + </p> + <p> + “The style in which he depicted his devotion to his son—if he is his + son—is enough to make me think that he was in the girl’s house to + keep an eye on the plunder; and never suspecting that the dead woman’s + pillow covered a will, he no doubt annexed, for his son, the seven hundred + and fifty thousand francs as a precaution. That is why he can promise to + recover the money. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Rubempre owes it to himself and to justice to account for his + father’s position in the world—— + </p> + <p> + “And he offers me the protection of his Order—His Order!—if I + do not examine Lucien——” + </p> + <p> + As has been seen, a magistrate conducts an examination exactly as he + thinks proper. He is at liberty to display his acumen or be absolutely + blunt. An examination may be everything or nothing. Therein lies the + favor. + </p> + <p> + Camusot rang. The usher had returned. He was sent to fetch Monsieur Lucien + de Rubempre with an injunction to prohibit his speaking to anybody on his + way up. It was by this time two in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “There is some secret,” said the judge to himself, “and that secret must + be very important. My amphibious friend—since he is neither priest, + nor secular, nor convict, nor Spaniard, though he wants to hinder his + protege from letting out something dreadful—argues thus: ‘The poet + is weak and effeminate; he is not like me, a Hercules in diplomacy, and + you will easily wring our secret from him.’—Well, we will get + everything out of this innocent.” + </p> + <p> + And he sat tapping the edge of his table with the ivory paper-knife, while + Coquart copied Esther’s letter. + </p> + <p> + How whimsical is the action of our faculties! Camusot conceived of every + crime as possible, and overlooked the only one that the prisoner had now + committed—the forgery of the will for Lucien’s advantage. Let those + whose envy vents itself on magistrates think for a moment of their life + spent in perpetual suspicion, of the torments these men must inflict on + their minds, for civil cases are not less tortuous than criminal + examinations, and it will occur to them perhaps that the priest and the + lawyer wear an equally heavy coat of mail, equally furnished with spikes + in the lining. However, every profession has its hair shirt and its + Chinese puzzles. + </p> + <p> + It was about two o’clock when Monsieur Camusot saw Lucien de Rubempre come + in, pale, worn, his eyes red and swollen, in short, in a state of + dejection which enabled the magistrate to compare nature with art, the + really dying man with the stage performance. His walk from the + Conciergerie to the judge’s chambers, between two gendarmes, and preceded + by the usher, had put the crowning touch to Lucien’s despair. It is the + poet’s nature to prefer execution to condemnation. + </p> + <p> + As he saw this being, so completely bereft of the moral courage which is + the essence of a judge, and which the last prisoner had so strongly + manifested, Monsieur Camusot disdained the easy victory; and this scorn + enabled him to strike a decisive blow, since it left him, on the ground, + that horrible clearness of mind which the marksman feels when he is firing + at a puppet. + </p> + <p> + “Collect yourself, Monsieur de Rubempre; you are in the presence of a + magistrate who is eager to repair the mischief done involuntarily by the + law when a man is taken into custody on suspicion that has no foundation. + I believe you to be innocent, and you will soon be at liberty.—Here + is the evidence of your innocence; it is a letter kept for you during your + absence by your porter’s wife; she has just brought it here. In the + commotion caused by the visitation of justice and the news of your arrest + at Fontainebleau, the woman forgot the letter which was written by + Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck.—Read it!” + </p> + <p> + Lucien took the letter, read it, and melted into tears. He sobbed, and + could not say a single word. At the end of a quarter of an hour, during + which Lucien with great difficulty recovered his self-command, the clerk + laid before him the copy of the letter and begged him to sign a footnote + certifying that the copy was faithful to the original, and might be used + in its stead “on all occasions in the course of this preliminary inquiry,” + giving him the option of comparing the two; but Lucien, of course, took + Coquart’s word for its accuracy. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the lawyer, with friendly good nature, “it is + nevertheless impossible that I should release you without carrying out the + legal formalities, and asking you some questions.—It is almost as a + witness that I require you to answer. To such a man as you I think it is + almost unnecessary to point out that the oath to tell the whole truth is + not in this case a mere appeal to your conscience, but a necessity for + your own sake, your position having been for a time somewhat ambiguous. + The truth can do you no harm, be it what it may; falsehood will send you + to trial, and compel me to send you back to the Conciergerie; whereas if + you answer fully to my questions, you will sleep to-night in your own + house, and be rehabilitated by this paragraph in the papers: ‘Monsieur de + Rubempre, who was arrested yesterday at Fontainebleau, was set at liberty + after a very brief examination.’” + </p> + <p> + This speech made a deep impression on Lucien; and the judge, seeing the + temper of his prisoner, added: + </p> + <p> + “I may repeat to you that you were suspected of being accessory to the + murder by poison of this Demoiselle Esther. Her suicide is clearly proved, + and there is an end of that; but a sum of seven hundred and fifty thousand + francs has been stolen, which she had disposed of by will, and you are the + legatee. This is a felony. The crime was perpetrated before the discovery + of the will. + </p> + <p> + “Now there is reason to suppose that a person who loves you as much as you + loved Mademoiselle Esther committed the theft for your benefit.—Do + not interrupt me,” Camusot went on, seeing that Lucien was about to speak, + and commanding silence by a gesture; “I am asking you nothing so far. I am + anxious to make you understand how deeply your honor is concerned in this + question. Give up the false and contemptible notion of the honor binding + two accomplices, and tell the whole truth.” + </p> + <p> + The reader must already have observed the extreme disproportion of the + weapons in this conflict between the prisoner under suspicion and the + examining judge. Absolute denial when skilfully used has in its favor its + positive simplicity, and sufficiently defends the criminal; but it is, in + a way, a coat of mail which becomes crushing as soon as the stiletto of + cross-examination finds a joint to it. As soon as mere denial is + ineffectual in face of certain proven facts, the examinee is entirely at + the judge’s mercy. + </p> + <p> + Now, supposing that a sort of half-criminal, like Lucien, might, if he + were saved from the first shipwreck of his honesty, amend his ways, and + become a useful member of society, he will be lost in the pitfalls of his + examination. + </p> + <p> + The judge has the driest possible record drawn up of the proceedings, a + faithful analysis of the questions and answers; but no trace remains of + his insidiously paternal addresses or his captious remonstrances, such as + this speech. The judges of the superior courts see the results, but see + nothing of the means. Hence, as some experienced persons have thought, it + would be a good plan that, as in England, a jury should hear the + examination. For a short while France enjoyed the benefit of this system. + Under the Code of Brumaire of the year IV., this body was known as the + examining jury, as distinguished from the trying jury. As to the final + trial, if we should restore the examining jury, it would have to be the + function of the superior courts without the aid of a jury. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Camusot, after a pause, “what is your name?—Attention, + Monsieur Coquart!” said he to the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien Chardon de Rubempre.” + </p> + <p> + “And you were born——?” + </p> + <p> + “At Angouleme.” And Lucien named the day, month, and year. + </p> + <p> + “You inherited no fortune?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet, during your first residence in Paris, you spent a great deal, as + compared with your small income?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur; but at that time I had a most devoted friend in + Mademoiselle Coralie, and I was so unhappy as to lose her. It was my grief + at her death that made me return to my country home.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right, monsieur,” said Camusot; “I commend your frankness; it + will be thoroughly appreciated.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien, it will be seen, was prepared to make a clean breast of it. + </p> + <p> + “On your return to Paris you lived even more expensively than before,” + Camusot went on. “You lived like a man who might have about sixty thousand + francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Who supplied you with the money?” + </p> + <p> + “My protector, the Abbe Carlos Herrera.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you meet him?” + </p> + <p> + “We met when traveling, just as I was about to be quit of life by + committing suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “You never heard him spoken of by your family—by your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you remember the year and the month when you first became connected + with Mademoiselle Esther?” + </p> + <p> + “Towards the end of 1823, at a small theatre on the Boulevard.” + </p> + <p> + “At first she was an expense to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Lately, in the hope of marrying Mademoiselle de Grandlieu, you purchased + the ruins of the Chateau de Rubempre, you added land to the value of a + million francs, and you told the family of Grandlieu that your sister and + your brother-in-law had just come into a considerable fortune, and that + their liberality had supplied you with the money.—Did you tell the + Grandlieus this, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know the reason why the marriage was broken off?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the Grandlieus sent one of the most respectable attorneys in Paris + to see your brother-in-law and inquire into the facts. At Angouleme this + lawyer, from the statements of your sister and brother-in-law, learned + that they not only had hardly lent you any money, but also that their + inheritance consisted of land, of some extent no doubt, but that the whole + amount of invested capital was not more than about two hundred thousand + francs.—Now you cannot wonder that such people as the Grandlieus + should reject a fortune of which the source is more than doubtful. This, + monsieur, is what a lie has led to——” + </p> + <p> + Lucien was petrified by this revelation, and the little presence of mind + he had preserved deserted him. + </p> + <p> + “Remember,” said Camusot, “that the police and the law know all they want + to know.—And now,” he went on, recollecting Jacques Collin’s assumed + paternity, “do you know who this pretended Carlos Herrera is?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur; but I knew it too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late! How? Explain yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not a priest, not a Spaniard, he is——” + </p> + <p> + “An escaped convict?” said the judge eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Lucien, “when he told me the fatal secret, I was already + under obligations to him; I had fancied I was befriended by a respectable + priest.” + </p> + <p> + “Jacques Collin——” said Monsieur Camusot, beginning a + sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lucien, “his name is Jacques Collin.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Jacques Collin has just now been identified by another person, + and though he denies it, he does so, I believe, in your interest. But I + asked whether you knew who the man is in order to prove another of Jacques + Collin’s impostures.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien felt as though he had hot iron in his inside as he heard this + alarming statement. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not know,” Camusot went on, “that in order to give color to the + extraordinary affection he has for you, he declares that he is your + father?” + </p> + <p> + “He! My father?—Oh, monsieur, did he tell you that?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any suspicion of where the money came from that he used to give + you? For, if I am to believe the evidence of the letter you have in your + hand, that poor girl, Mademoiselle Esther, must have done you lately the + same services as Coralie formerly rendered you. Still, for some years, as + you have just admitted, you lived very handsomely without receiving + anything from her.” + </p> + <p> + “It is I who should ask you, monsieur, whence convicts get their money! + Jacques Collin my father!—Oh, my poor mother!” and Lucien burst into + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Coquart, read out to the prisoner that part of Carlos Herrera’s + examination in which he said that Lucien de Rubempre was his son.” + </p> + <p> + The poet listened in silence, and with a look that was terrible to behold. + </p> + <p> + “I am done for!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “A man is not done for who is faithful to the path of honor and truth,” + said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “But you will commit Jacques Collin for trial?” said Lucien. + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly,” said Camusot, who aimed at making Lucien talk. “Speak out.” + </p> + <p> + But in spite of all his persuasion and remonstrances, Lucien would say no + more. Reflection had come too late, as it does to all men who are the + slaves of impulse. There lies the difference between the poet and the man + of action; one gives way to feeling to reproduce it in living images, his + judgement comes in after; the other feels and judges both at once. + </p> + <p> + Lucien remained pale and gloomy; he saw himself at the bottom of the + precipice, down which the examining judge had rolled him by the apparent + candor which had entrapped his poet’s soul. He had betrayed, not his + benefactor, but an accomplice who had defended their position with the + courage of a lion, and a skill that showed no flaw. Where Jacques Collin + had saved everything by his daring, Lucien, the man of brains, had lost + all by his lack of intelligence and reflection. This infamous lie against + which he revolted had screened a yet more infamous truth. + </p> + <p> + Utterly confounded by the judge’s skill, overpowered by his cruel + dexterity, by the swiftness of the blows he had dealt him while making use + of the errors of a life laid bare as probes to search his conscience, + Lucien sat like an animal which the butcher’s pole-axe had failed to kill. + Free and innocent when he came before the judge, in a moment his own + avowal had made him feel criminal. + </p> + <p> + To crown all, as a final grave irony, Camusot, cold and calm, pointed out + to Lucien that his self-betrayal was the result of a misapprehension. + Camusot was thinking of Jacques Collin’s announcing himself as Lucien’s + father; while Lucien, wholly absorbed by his fear of seeing his + confederacy with an escaped convict made public, had imitated the famous + inadvertency of the murderers of Ibycus. + </p> + <p> + One of Royer-Collard’s most famous achievements was proclaiming the + constant triumph of natural feeling over engrafted sentiments, and + defending the cause of anterior oaths by asserting that the law of + hospitality, for instance, ought to be regarded as binding to the point of + negativing the obligation of a judicial oath. He promulgated this theory, + in the face of the world, from the French tribune; he boldly upheld + conspirators, showing that it was human to be true to friendship rather + than to the tyrannical laws brought out of the social arsenal to be + adjusted to circumstances. And, indeed, natural rights have laws which + have never been codified, but which are more effectual and better known + than those laid down by society. Lucien had misapprehended, to his cost, + the law of cohesion, which required him to be silent and leave Jacques + Collin to protect himself; nay, more, he had accused him. In his own + interests the man ought always to be, to him, Carlos Herrera. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Camusot was rejoicing in his triumph; he had secured two + criminals. He had crushed with the hand of justice one of the favorites of + fashion, and he had found the undiscoverable Jacques Collin. He would be + regarded as one of the cleverest of examining judges. So he left his + prisoner in peace; but he was studying this speechless consternation, and + he saw drops of sweat collect on the miserable face, swell and fall, + mingled with two streams of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you weep, Monsieur de Rubempre? You are, as I have told you, + Mademoiselle Esther’s legatee, she having no heirs nor near relations, and + her property amounts to nearly eight millions of francs if the lost seven + hundred and fifty thousand francs are recovered.” + </p> + <p> + This was the last blow to the poor wretch. “If you do not lose your head + for ten minutes,” Jacques Collin had said in his note, and Lucien by + keeping cool would have gained all his desire. He might have paid his debt + to Jacques Collin and have cut him adrift, have been rich, and have + married Mademoiselle de Grandlieu. Nothing could more eloquently + demonstrate the power with which the examining judge is armed, as a + consequence of the isolation or separation of persons under suspicion, or + the value of such a communication as Asie had conveyed to Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur!” replied Lucien, with the satirical bitterness of a man who + makes a pedestal of his utter overthrow, “how appropriate is the phrase in + legal slang ‘to UNDERGO examination.’ For my part, if I had to choose + between the physical torture of past ages and the moral torture of our + day, I would not hesitate to prefer the sufferings inflicted of old by the + executioner.—What more do you want of me?” he added haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “In this place, monsieur,” said the magistrate, answering the poet’s pride + with mocking arrogance, “I alone have a right to ask questions.” + </p> + <p> + “I had the right to refuse to answer them,” muttered the hapless Lucien, + whose wits had come back to him with perfect lucidity. + </p> + <p> + “Coquart, read the minutes to the prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “I am the prisoner once more,” said Lucien to himself. + </p> + <p> + While the clerk was reading, Lucien came to a determination which + compelled him to smooth down Monsieur Camusot. When Coquart’s drone + ceased, the poet started like a man who has slept through a noise to which + his ears are accustomed, and who is roused by its cessation. + </p> + <p> + “You have to sign the report of your examination,” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “And am I at liberty?” asked Lucien, ironical in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” said Camusot; “but to-morrow, after being confronted with + Jacques Collin, you will no doubt be free. Justice must now ascertain + whether or no you are accessory to the crimes this man may have committed + since his escape so long ago as 1820. However, you are no longer in the + secret cells. I will write to the Governor to give you a better room.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I find writing materials?” + </p> + <p> + “You can have anything supplied to you that you ask for; I will give + orders to that effect by the usher who will take you back.” + </p> + <p> + Lucien mechanically signed the minutes and initialed the notes in + obedience to Coquart’s indications with the meekness of a resigned victim. + A single fact will show what a state he was in better than the minutest + description. The announcement that he would be confronted with Jacques + Collin had at once dried the drops of sweat from his brow, and his dry + eyes glittered with a terrible light. In short, he became, in an instant + as brief as a lightning flash, what Jacques Collin was—a man of + iron. + </p> + <p> + In men whose nature is like Lucien’s, a nature which Jacques Collin had so + thoroughly fathomed, these sudden transitions from a state of absolute + demoralization to one that is, so to speak, metallic,—so extreme is + the tension of every vital force,—are the most startling phenomena + of mental vitality. The will surges up like the lost waters of a spring; + it diffuses itself throughout the machinery that lies ready for the action + of the unknown matter that constitutes it; and then the corpse is a man + again, and the man rushes on full of energy for a supreme struggle. + </p> + <p> + Lucien laid Esther’s letter next his heart, with the miniature she had + returned to him. Then he haughtily bowed to Monsieur Camusot, and went off + with a firm step down the corridors, between two gendarmes. + </p> + <p> + “That is a deep scoundrel!” said the judge to his clerk, to avenge himself + for the crushing scorn the poet had displayed. “He thought he might save + himself by betraying his accomplice.” + </p> + <p> + “Of the two,” said Coquart timidly, “the convict is the most + thorough-paced.” + </p> + <p> + “You are free for the rest of the day, Coquart,” said the lawyer. “We have + done enough. Send away any case that is waiting, to be called to-morrow.—Ah! + and you must go at once to the public prosecutor’s chambers and ask if he + is still there; if so, ask him if he can give me a few minutes. Yes; he + will not be gone,” he added, looking at a common clock in a wooden case + painted green with gilt lines. “It is but a quarter-past three.” + </p> + <p> + These examinations, which are so quickly read, being written down at full + length, questions and answers alike, take up an enormous amount of time. + This is one of the reasons of the slowness of these preliminaries to a + trial and of these imprisonments “on suspicion.” To the poor this is ruin, + to the rich it is disgrace; to them only immediate release can in any + degree repair, so far as possible, the disaster of an arrest. + </p> + <p> + This is why the two scenes here related had taken up the whole of the time + spent by Asie in deciphering her master’s orders, in getting a Duchess out + of her boudoir, and putting some energy into Madame de Serizy. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Camusot, who was anxious to get the full benefit of his + cleverness, took the two documents, read them through, and promised + himself that he would show them to the public prosecutor and take his + opinion on them. During this meditation, his usher came back to tell him + that Madame la Comtesse de Serizy’s man-servant insisted on speaking with + him. At a nod from Camusot, a servant out of livery came in, looked first + at the usher, and then at the magistrate, and said, “I have the honor of + speaking to Monsieur Camusot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the lawyer and his clerk. + </p> + <p> + Camusot took a note which the servant offered him, and read as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For the sake of many interests which will be obvious to you, my + dear Camusot, do not examine Monsieur de Rubempre. We have brought + ample proofs of his innocence that he may be released forthwith. + + “D. DE MAUFRIGNEUSE. + “L. DE SERIZY. + + “<i>P. S.</i>—Burn this note.” + </pre> + <p> + Camusot understood at once that he had blundered preposterously in laying + snares for Lucien, and he began by obeying the two fine ladies—he + lighted a taper, and burned the letter written by the Duchess. The man + bowed respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “Then Madame de Serizy is coming here?” asked Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “The carriage is being brought round.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Coquart came in to tell Monsieur Camusot that the public + prosecutor expected him. + </p> + <p> + Oppressed by the blunder he had committed, in view of his ambitions, + though to the better ends of justice, the lawyer, in whom seven years’ + experience had perfected the sharpness that comes to a man who in his + practice has had to measure his wits against the grisettes of Paris, was + anxious to have some shield against the resentment of two women of + fashion. The taper in which he had burned the note was still alight, and + he used it to seal up the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse’s notes to Lucien—about + thirty in all—and Madame de Serizy’s somewhat voluminous + correspondence. + </p> + <p> + Then he waited on the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + The Palais de Justice is a perplexing maze of buildings piled one above + another, some fine and dignified, others very mean, the whole disfigured + by its lack of unity. The <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i> is the largest known + hall, but its nakedness is hideous, and distresses the eye. This vast + Cathedral of the Law crushes the Supreme Court. The Galerie Marchande ends + in two drain-like passages. From this corridor there is a double + staircase, a little larger than that of the Criminal Courts, and under it + a large double door. The stairs lead down to one of the Assize Courts, and + the doors open into another. In some years the number of crimes committed + in the circuit of the Seine is great enough to necessitate the sitting of + two Benches. + </p> + <p> + Close by are the public prosecutor’s offices, the attorney’s room and + library, the chambers of the attorney-general, and those of the public + prosecutor’s deputies. All these purlieus, to use a generic term, + communicate by narrow spiral stairs and the dark passages, which are a + disgrace to the architecture not of Paris only, but of all France. The + interior arrangement of the sovereign court of justice outdoes our prisons + in all that is most hideous. The writer describing our manners and customs + would shrink from the necessity of depicting the squalid corridor of about + a metre in width, in which the witnesses wait in the Superior Criminal + Court. As to the stove which warms the court itself, it would disgrace a + cafe on the Boulevard Mont-Parnasse. + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor’s private room forms part of an octagon wing + flanking the Galerie Marchande, built out recently in regard to the age of + the structure, over the prison yard, outside the women’s quarters. All + this part of the Palais is overshadowed by the lofty and noble edifice of + the Sainte-Chapelle. And all is solemn and silent. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville, a worthy successor of the great magistrates of the + ancient Parlement, would not leave Paris without coming to some conclusion + in the matter of Lucien. He expected to hear from Camusot, and the judge’s + message had plunged him into the involuntary suspense which waiting + produces on even the strongest minds. He had been sitting in the + window-bay of his private room; he rose, and walked up and down, for + having lingered in the morning to intercept Camusot, he had found him dull + of apprehension; he was vaguely uneasy and worried. + </p> + <p> + And this was why. + </p> + <p> + The dignity of his high functions forbade his attempting to fetter the + perfect independence of the inferior judge, and yet this trial nearly + touched the honor and good name of his best friend and warmest supporter, + the Comte de Serizy, Minister of State, member of the Privy Council, + Vice-President of the State Council, and prospective Chancellor of the + Realm, in the event of the death of the noble old man who held that august + office. It was Monsieur de Serizy’s misfortune to adore his wife “through + fire and water,” and he always shielded her with his protection. Now the + public prosecutor fully understood the terrible fuss that would be made in + the world and at court if a crime should be proved against a man whose + name had been so often and so malignantly linked with that of the + Countess. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he sighed, folding his arms, “formerly the supreme authority could + take refuge in an appeal. Nowadays our mania for equality”—he dared + not say <i>for Legality</i>, as a poetic orator in the Chamber + courageously admitted a short while since—“is the death of us.” + </p> + <p> + This noble magistrate knew all the fascination and the miseries of an + illicit attachment. Esther and Lucien, as we have seen, had taken the + rooms where the Comte de Granville had lived secretly on connubial terms + with Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille, and whence she had fled one day, lured + away by a villain. (See <i>A Double Marriage</i>.) + </p> + <p> + At the very moment when the public prosecutor was saying to himself, + “Camusot is sure to have done something silly,” the examining magistrate + knocked twice at the door of his room. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear Camusot, how is that case going on that I spoke of this + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Badly, Monsieur le Comte; read and judge for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + He held out the minutes of the two examinations to Monsieur de Granville, + who took up his eyeglass and went to the window to read them. He had soon + run through them. + </p> + <p> + “You have done your duty,” said the Count in an agitated voice. “It is all + over. The law must take its course. You have shown so much skill, that you + need never fear being deprived of your appointment as examining judge—-” + </p> + <p> + If Monsieur de Granville had said to Camusot, “You will remain an + examining judge to your dying day,” he could not have been more explicit + than in making this polite speech. Camusot was cold in the very marrow. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, to whom I owe much, had desired + me...” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse is Madame de Serizy’s friend,” said + Granville, interrupting him. “To be sure.—You have allowed nothing + to influence you, I perceive. And you did well, sir; you will be a great + magistrate.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant the Comte Octave de Bauvan opened the door without + knocking, and said to the Comte de Granville: + </p> + <p> + “I have brought you a fair lady, my dear fellow, who did not know which + way to turn; she was on the point of losing herself in our labyrinth——” + </p> + <p> + And Comte Octave led in by the hand the Comtesse de Serizy, who had been + wandering about the place for the last quarter of an hour. + </p> + <p> + “What, you here, madame!” exclaimed the public prosecutor, pushing forward + his own armchair, “and at this moment! This, madame, is Monsieur Camusot,” + he added, introducing the judge.—“Bauvan,” said he to the + distinguished ministerial orator of the Restoration, “wait for me in the + president’s chambers; he is still there, and I will join you.” + </p> + <p> + Comte Octave de Bauvan understood that not merely was he in the way, but + that Monsieur de Granville wanted an excuse for leaving his room. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Serizy had not made the mistake of coming to the Palais de + Justice in her handsome carriage with a blue hammer-cloth and + coats-of-arms, her coachman in gold lace, and two footmen in breeches and + silk stockings. Just as they were starting Asie impressed on the two great + ladies the need for taking the hackney coach in which she and the Duchess + had arrived, and she had likewise insisted on Lucien’s mistress adopting + the costume which is to women what a gray cloak was of yore to men. The + Countess wore a plain brown dress, an old black shawl, and a velvet bonnet + from which the flowers had been removed, and the whole covered up under a + thick lace veil. + </p> + <p> + “You received our note?” said she to Camusot, whose dismay she mistook for + respectful admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! but too late, Madame la Comtesse,” replied the lawyer, whose tact + and wit failed him excepting in his chambers and in presence of a + prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Too late! How?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Monsieur de Granville, and saw consternation written in his + face. “It cannot be, it must not be too late!” she added, in the tone of a + despot. + </p> + <p> + Women, pretty women, in the position of Madame de Serizy, are the spoiled + children of French civilization. If the women of other countries knew what + a woman of fashion is in Paris, a woman of wealth and rank, they would all + want to come and enjoy that splendid royalty. The women who recognize no + bonds but those of propriety, no law but the petty charter which has been + more than once alluded to in this <i>Comedie Humaine</i> as the ladies’ + Code, laugh at the statutes framed by men. They say everything, they do + not shrink from any blunder or hesitate at any folly, for they all accept + the fact that they are irresponsible beings, answerable for nothing on + earth but their good repute and their children. They say the most + preposterous things with a laugh, and are ready on every occasion to + repeat the speech made in the early days of her married life by pretty + Madame de Bauvan to her husband, whom she came to fetch away from the + Palais: “Make haste and pass sentence, and come away.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said the public prosecutor, “Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre is not + guilty either of robbery or of poisoning; but Monsieur Camusot has led him + to confess a still greater crime.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He acknowledged,” said Monsieur Camusot in her ear, “that he is the + friend and pupil of an escaped convict. The Abbe Carlos Herrera, the + Spaniard with whom he has been living for the last seven years, is the + notorious Jacques Collin.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Serizy felt as if it were a blow from an iron rod at each word + spoken by the judge, but this name was the finishing stroke. + </p> + <p> + “And the upshot of all this?” she said, in a voice that was no more than a + breath. + </p> + <p> + “Is,” Monsieur de Granville went on, finishing the Countess’ sentence in + an undertone, “that the convict will be committed for trial, and that if + Lucien is not committed with him as having profited as an accessory to the + man’s crimes, he must appear as a witness very seriously compromised.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! never, never!” she cried aloud, with amazing firmness. “For my part, + I should not hesitate between death and the disaster of seeing a man whom + the world has known to be my dearest friend declared by the bench to be + the accomplice of a convict.—The King has a great regard for my + husband——” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said the public prosecutor, also aloud, and with a smile, “the + King has not the smallest power over the humblest examining judge in his + kingdom, nor over the proceedings in any court of justice. That is the + grand feature of our new code of laws. I myself have just congratulated M. + Camusot on his skill——” + </p> + <p> + “On his clumsiness,” said the Countess sharply, though Lucien’s intimacy + with a scoundrel really disturbed her far less than his attachment to + Esther. + </p> + <p> + “If you will read the minutes of the examination of the two prisoners by + Monsieur Camusot, you will see that everything is in his hands——” + </p> + <p> + After this speech, the only thing the public prosecutor could venture to + say, and a flash of feminine—or, if you will, lawyer-like—cunning, + he went to the door; then, turning round on the threshold, he added: + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, madame; I have two words to say to Bauvan.” Which, translated + by the worldly wise, conveyed to the Countess: “I do not want to witness + the scene between you and Camusot.” + </p> + <p> + “What is this examination business?” said Leontine very blandly to + Camusot, who stood downcast in the presence of the wife of one of the most + important personages in the realm. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Camusot, “a clerk writes down all the magistrate’s + questions and the prisoner’s replies. This document is signed by the + clerk, by the judge, and by the prisoner. This evidence is the raw + material of the subsequent proceedings; on it the accused are committed + for trial, and remanded to appear before the Criminal Court.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said she, “if the evidence were suppressed——?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, madame, that is a crime which no magistrate could possibly commit—a + crime against society.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a far worse crime against me to have ever allowed it to be + recorded; still, at this moment it is the only evidence against Lucien. + Come, read me the minutes of his examination that I may see if there is + still a way of salvation for us all, monsieur. I do not speak for myself + alone—I should quite calmly kill myself—but Monsieur de + Serizy’s happiness is also at stake.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray, madame, do not suppose that I have forgotten the respect due you,” + said Camusot. “If Monsieur Popinot, for instance, had undertaken this + case, you would have had worse luck than you have found with me; for he + would not have come to consult Monsieur de Granville; no one would have + heard anything about it. I tell you, madame, everything has been seized in + Monsieur Lucien’s lodging, even your letters——” + </p> + <p> + “What! my letters!” + </p> + <p> + “Here they are, madame, in a sealed packet.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess in her agitation rang as if she had been at home, and the + office-boy came in. + </p> + <p> + “A light,” said she. + </p> + <p> + The boy lighted a taper and placed it on the chimney-piece, while the + Countess looked through the letters, counted them, crushed them in her + hand, and flung them on the hearth. In a few minutes she set the whole + mass in a blaze, twisting up the last note to serve as a torch. + </p> + <p> + Camusot stood, looking rather foolish as he watched the papers burn, + holding the legal documents in his hand. The Countess, who seemed absorbed + in the work of destroying the proofs of her passion, studied him out of + the corner of her eye. She took her time, she calculated her distance; + with the spring of a cat she seized the two documents and threw them on + the flames. But Camusot saved them; the Countess rushed on him and + snatched back the burning papers. A struggle ensued, Camusot calling out: + “Madame, but madame! This is contempt—madame!” + </p> + <p> + A man hurried into the room, and the Countess could not repress a scream + as she beheld the Comte de Serizy, followed by Monsieur de Granville and + the Comte de Bauvan. Leontine, however, determined to save Lucien at any + cost, would not let go of the terrible stamped documents, which she + clutched with the tenacity of a vise, though the flame had already burnt + her delicate skin like a moxa. + </p> + <p> + At last Camusot, whose fingers also were smarting from the fire, seemed to + be ashamed of the position; he let the papers go; there was nothing left + of them but the portions so tightly held by the antagonists that the flame + could not touch them. The whole scene had taken less time than is needed + to read this account of it. + </p> + <p> + “What discussion can have arisen between you and Madame de Serizy?” the + husband asked of Camusot. + </p> + <p> + Before the lawyer could reply, the Countess held the fragments in the + candle and threw them on the remains of her letters, which were not + entirely consumed. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be compelled,” said Camusot, “to lay a complaint against Madame + la Comtesse——” + </p> + <p> + “Heh! What has she done?” asked the public prosecutor, looking alternately + at the lady and the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “I have burned the record of the examinations,” said the lady of fashion + with a laugh, so pleased at her high-handed conduct that she did not yet + feel the pain of the burns, “If that is a crime—well, monsieur must + get his odious scrawl written out again.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true,” said Camusot, trying to recover his dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, ‘All’s well that ends well,’” said Monsieur de Granville. + “But, my dear Countess, you must not often take such liberties with the + Law; it might fail to discern who and what you are.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Camusot valiantly resisted a woman whom none can resist; the + Honor of the Robe is safe!” said the Comte de Bauvan, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Monsieur Camusot was resisting?” said the public prosecutor, + laughing too. “He is a brave man indeed; I should not dare resist the + Countess.” + </p> + <p> + And thus for the moment this serious affair was no more than a pretty + woman’s jest, at which Camusot himself must laugh. + </p> + <p> + But Monsieur de Granville saw one man who was not amused. Not a little + alarmed by the Comte de Serizy’s attitude and expression, his friend led + him aside. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said he in a whisper, “your distress persuades me for + the first and only time in my life to compromise with my duty.” + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor rang, and the office-boy appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Desire Monsieur de Chargeboeuf to come here.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Chargeboeuf, a sucking barrister, was his private secretary. + </p> + <p> + “My good friend,” said the Comte de Granville to Camusot, whom he took to + the window, “go back to your chambers, get your clerk to reconstruct the + report of the Abbe Carlos Herrera’s depositions; as he had not signed the + first copy, there will be no difficulty about that. To-morrow you must + confront your Spanish diplomate with Rastignac and Bianchon, who will not + recognize him as Jacques Collin. Then, being sure of his release, the man + will sign the document. + </p> + <p> + “As to Lucien de Rubempre, set him free this evening; he is not likely to + talk about an examination of which the evidence is destroyed, especially + after such a lecture as I shall give him. + </p> + <p> + “Now you will see how little justice suffers by these proceedings. If the + Spaniard really is the convict, we have fifty ways of recapturing him and + committing him for trial—for we will have his conduct in Spain + thoroughly investigated. Corentin, the police agent, will take care of him + for us, and we ourselves will keep an eye on him. So treat him decently; + do not send him down to the cells again. + </p> + <p> + “Can we be the death of the Comte and Comtesse de Serizy, as well as of + Lucien, for the theft of seven hundred and fifty thousand francs as yet + unproven, and to Lucien’s personal loss? Will it not be better for him to + lose the money than to lose his character? Above all, if he is to drag + with him in his fall a Minister of State, and his wife, and the Duchesse + du Maufrigneuse. + </p> + <p> + “This young man is a speckled orange; do not leave it to rot. + </p> + <p> + “All this will take you about half an hour; go and get it done; we will + wait for you. It is half-past three; you will find some judges about. Let + me know if you can get a rule of insufficient evidence—or Lucien + must wait till to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Camusot bowed to the company and went; but Madame de Serizy, who was + suffering a good deal from her burns, did not return his bow. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Serizy, who had suddenly rushed away while the public + prosecutor and the magistrate were talking together, presently returned, + having fetched a small jar of virgin wax. With this he dressed his wife’s + fingers, saying in an undertone: + </p> + <p> + “Leontine, why did you come here without letting me know?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” replied she in a whisper, “forgive me. I seem mad, but indeed + your interests were as much involved as mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Love this young fellow if fatality requires it, but do not display your + passion to all the world,” said the luckless husband. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear Countess,” said Monsieur de Granville, who had been engaged + in conversation with Comte Octave, “I hope you may take Monsieur de + Rubempre home to dine with you this evening.” + </p> + <p> + This half promise produced a reaction; Madame de Serizy melted into tears. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had no tears left,” said she with a smile. “But could you not + bring Monsieur de Rubempre to wait here?” + </p> + <p> + “I will try if I can find the ushers to fetch him, so that he may not be + seen under the escort of the gendarmes,” said Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “You are as good as God!” cried she, with a gush of feeling that made her + voice sound like heavenly music. + </p> + <p> + “These are the women,” said Comte Octave, “who are fascinating, + irresistible!” + </p> + <p> + And he became melancholy as he thought of his own wife. (See <i>Honorine</i>.) + </p> + <p> + As he left the room, Monsieur de Granville was stopped by young + Chargeboeuf, to whom he spoke to give him instructions as to what he was + to say to Massol, one of the editors of the <i>Gazette des Tribunaux</i>. + </p> + <p> + While beauties, ministers, and magistrates were conspiring to save Lucien, + this was what he was doing at the Conciergerie. As he passed the gate the + poet told the keeper that Monsieur Camusot had granted him leave to write, + and he begged to have pens, ink, and paper. At a whispered word to the + Governor from Camusot’s usher a warder was instructed to take them to him + at once. During the short time that it took for the warder to fetch these + things and carry them up to Lucien, the hapless young man, to whom the + idea of facing Jacques Collin had become intolerable, sank into one of + those fatal moods in which the idea of suicide—to which he had + yielded before now, but without succeeding in carrying it out—rises + to the pitch of mania. According to certain mad-doctors, suicide is in + some temperaments the closing phase of mental aberration; and since his + arrest Lucien had been possessed by that single idea. Esther’s letter, + read and reread many times, increased the vehemence of his desire to die + by reminding him of the catastrophe of Romeo dying to be with Juliet. + </p> + <p> + This is what he wrote:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>This is my Last Will and Testament</i>. + + “AT THE CONCIERGERIE, May 15th, 1830. + + “I, the undersigned, give and bequeath to the children of my + sister, Madame Eve Chardon, wife of David Sechard, formerly a + printer at Angouleme, and of Monsieur David Sechard, all the + property, real and personal, of which I may be possessed at the + time of my decease, due deduction being made for the payments and + legacies, which I desire my executor to provide for. + + “And I earnestly beg Monsieur de Serizy to undertake the charge of + being the executor of this my will. + + “First, to Monsieur l’Abbe Carlos Herrera I direct the payment of + the sum of three hundred thousand francs. Secondly, to Monsieur le + Baron de Nucingen the sum of fourteen hundred thousand francs, + less seven hundred and fifty thousand if the sum stolen from + Mademoiselle Esther should be recovered. + + “As universal legatee to Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck, I give and + bequeath the sum of seven hundred and sixty thousand francs to the + Board of Asylums of Paris for the foundation of a refuge + especially dedicated to the use of public prostitutes who may wish + to forsake their life of vice and ruin. + + “I also bequeath to the Asylums of Paris the sum of money + necessary for the purchase of a certificate for dividends to the + amount of thirty thousand francs per annum in five per cents, the + annual income to be devoted every six months to the release of + prisoners for debts not exceeding two thousand francs. The Board + of Asylums to select the most respectable of such persons + imprisoned for debt. + + “I beg Monsieur de Serizy to devote the sum of forty thousand + francs to erecting a monument to Mademoiselle Esther in the + Eastern cemetery, and I desire to be buried by her side. The tomb + is to be like an antique tomb—square, our two effigies lying + thereon, in white marble, the heads on pillows, the hands folded + and raised to heaven. There is to be no inscription whatever. + + “I beg Monsieur de Serizy to give to Monsieur de Rastignac a gold + toilet-set that is in my room as a remembrance. + + “And as a remembrance, I beg my executor to accept my library of + books as a gift from me. + + “LUCIEN CHARDON DE RUBEMPRE.” + </pre> + <p> + This Will was enclosed in a letter addressed to Monsieur le Comte de + Granville, Public Prosecutor in the Supreme Court at Paris, as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MONSIEUR LE COMTE,— + + “I place my Will in your hands. When you open this letter I shall + be no more. In my desire to be free, I made such cowardly replies + to Monsieur Camusot’s insidious questions, that, in spite of my + innocence, I may find myself entangled in a disgraceful trial. + Even if I were acquitted, a blameless life would henceforth be + impossible to me in view of the opinions of the world. + + “I beg you to transmit the enclosed letter to the Abbe Carlos + Herrera without opening it, and deliver to Monsieur Camusot the + formal retraction I also enclose. + + “I suppose no one will dare to break the seal of a packet + addressed to you. In this belief I bid you adieu, offering you my + best respects for the last time, and begging you to believe that + in writing to you I am giving you a token of my gratitude for all + the kindness you have shown to your deceased humble servant, + + “LUCIEN DE R.” + </pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>To the Abbe Carlos Herrera</i>. + + “MY DEAR ABBE,—I have had only benefits from you, and I have + betrayed you. This involuntary ingratitude is killing me, and when + you read these lines I shall have ceased to exist. You are not + here now to save me. + + “You had given me full liberty, if I should find it advantageous, + to destroy you by flinging you on the ground like a cigar-end; but + I have ruined you by a blunder. To escape from a difficulty, + deluded by a clever question from the examining judge, your son by + adoption and grace went over to the side of those who aim at + killing you at any cost, and insist on proving an identity, which + I know to be impossible, between you and a French villain. All is + said. + + “Between a man of your calibre and me—me of whom you tried to + make a greater man than I am capable of being—no foolish + sentiment can come at the moment of final parting. You hoped to + make me powerful and famous, and you have thrown me into the gulf + of suicide, that is all. I have long heard the broad pinions of + that vertigo beating over my head. + + “As you have sometimes said, there is the posterity of Cain and + the posterity of Abel. In the great human drama Cain is in + opposition. You are descended from Adam through that line, in + which the devil still fans the fire of which the first spark was + flung on Eve. Among the demons of that pedigree, from time to time + we see one of stupendous power, summing up every form of human + energy, and resembling the fevered beasts of the desert, whose + vitality demands the vast spaces they find there. Such men are as + dangerous as lions would be in the heart of Normandy; they must + have their prey, and they devour common men and crop the money of + fools. Their sport is so dangerous that at last they kill the + humble dog whom they have taken for a companion and made an idol + of. + + “When it is God’s will, these mysterious beings may be a Moses, an + Attila, Charlemagne, Mahomet, or Napoleon; but when He leaves a + generation of these stupendous tools to rust at the bottom of the + ocean, they are no more than a Pugatschef, a Fouche, a Louvel, or + the Abbe Carlos Herrera. Gifted with immense power over tenderer + souls, they entrap them and mangle them. It is grand, it is fine + —in its way. It is the poisonous plant with gorgeous coloring that + fascinates children in the woods. It is the poetry of evil. Men + like you ought to dwell in caves and never come out of them. You + have made me live that vast life, and I have had all my share of + existence; so I may very well take my head out of the Gordian knot + of your policy and slip it into the running knot of my cravat. + + “To repair the mischief I have done, I am forwarding to the public + prosecutor a retraction of my deposition. You will know how to + take advantage of this document. + + “In virtue of a will formally drawn up, restitution will be made, + Monsieur l’Abbe, of the moneys belonging to your Order which you + so imprudently devoted to my use, as a result of your paternal + affection for me. + + “And so, farewell. Farewell, colossal image of Evil and + Corruption; farewell—to you who, if started on the right road, + might have been greater than Ximenes, greater than Richelieu! You + have kept your promises. I find myself once more just as I was on + the banks of the Charente, after enjoying, by your help, the + enchantments of a dream. But, unfortunately, it is not now in the + waters of my native place that I shall drown the errors of a boy; + but in the Seine, and my hole is a cell in the Conciergerie. + + “Do not regret me: my contempt for you is as great as my + admiration. + + “LUCIEN.” + </pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>Recantation</i>. + + “I, the undersigned, hereby declare that I retract, without + reservation, all that I deposed at my examination to-day before + Monsieur Camusot. + + “The Abbe Carlos Herrera always called himself my spiritual + father, and I was misled by the word father used in another sense + by the judge, no doubt under a misapprehension. + + “I am aware that, for political ends, and to quash certain secrets + concerning the Cabinets of Spain and of the Tuileries, some + obscure diplomatic agents tried to show that the Abbe Carlos + Herrera was a forger named Jacques Collin; but the Abbe Carlos + Herrera never told me anything about the matter excepting that he + was doing his best to obtain evidence of the death or of the + continued existence of Jacques Collin. + + “LUCIEN DE RUBEMPRE. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “AT THE CONCIERGERIE, May 15th, 1830.” + </pre> + <p> + The fever for suicide had given Lucien immense clearness of mind, and the + swiftness of hand familiar to authors in the fever of composition. The + impetus was so strong within him that these four documents were all + written within half an hour; he folded them in a wrapper, fastened with + wafers, on which he impressed with the strength of delirium the + coat-of-arms engraved on a seal-ring he wore, and he then laid the packet + very conspicuously in the middle of the floor. + </p> + <p> + Certainly it would have been impossible to conduct himself with greater + dignity, in the false position to which all this infamy had led him; he + was rescuing his memory from opprobrium, and repairing the injury done to + his accomplice, so far as the wit of a man of the world could nullify the + result of the poet’s trustfulness. + </p> + <p> + If Lucien had been taken back to one of the lower cells, he would have + been wrecked on the impossibility of carrying out his intentions, for + those boxes of masonry have no furniture but a sort of camp-bed and a pail + for necessary uses. There is not a nail, not a chair, not even a stool. + The camp-bed is so firmly fixed that it is impossible to move it without + an amount of labor that the warder would not fail to detect, for the + iron-barred peephole is always open. Indeed, if a prisoner under suspicion + gives reason for uneasiness, he is watched by a gendarme or a constable. + </p> + <p> + In the private rooms for which prisoners pay, and in that whither Lucien + had been conveyed by the judge’s courtesy to a young man belonging to the + upper ranks of society, the movable bed, table, and chair might serve to + carry out his purpose of suicide, though they hardly made it easy. Lucien + wore a long blue silk necktie, and on his way back from examination he was + already meditating on the means by which Pichegru, more or less + voluntarily, ended his days. Still, to hang himself, a man must find a + purchase, and have a sufficient space between it and the ground for his + feet to find no support. Now the window of his room, looking out on the + prison-yard, had no handle to the fastening; and the bars, being fixed + outside, were divided from his reach by the thickness of the wall, and + could not be used for a support. + </p> + <p> + This, then, was the plan hit upon by Lucien to put himself out of the + world. The boarding of the lower part of the opening, which prevented his + seeing out into the yard, also hindered the warders outside from seeing + what was done in the room; but while the lower portion of the window was + replaced by two thick planks, the upper part of both halves still was + filled with small panes, held in place by the cross pieces in which they + were set. By standing on his table Lucien could reach the glazed part of + the window, and take or break out two panes, so as to have a firm point of + attachment in the angle of the lower bar. Round this he would tie his + cravat, turn round once to tighten it round his neck after securing it + firmly, and kick the table from under his feet. + </p> + <p> + He drew the table up under the window without making any noise, took off + his coat and waistcoat, and got on the table unhesitatingly to break a + pane above and one below the iron cross-bar. Standing on the table, he + could look out across the yard on a magical view, which he then beheld for + the first time. The Governor of the prison, in deference to Monsieur + Camusot’s request that he should deal as leniently as possible with + Lucien, had led him, as we have seen, through the dark passages of the + Conciergerie, entered from the dark vault opposite the Tour d’Argent, thus + avoiding the exhibition of a young man of fashion to the crowd of + prisoners airing themselves in the yard. It will be for the reader to + judge whether the aspect of the promenade was not such as to appeal deeply + to a poet’s soul. + </p> + <p> + The yard of the Conciergerie ends at the quai between the Tour d’Argent + and the Tour Bonbec; thus the distance between them exactly shows from the + outside the width of the plot of ground. The corridor called the Galerie + de Saint-Louis, which extends from the Galerie Marchande to the Courts of + Appeals and the Tour Bonbec—in which, it is said, Saint-Louis’ room + still exists—may enable the curious to estimate the depths of the + yard, as it is of the same length. Thus the dark cells and the private + rooms are under the Galerie Marchande. And Queen Marie Antoinette, whose + dungeon was under the present cells, was conducted to the presence of the + Revolutionary Tribunal, which held its sittings in the place where the + Court of Appeals now performs its solemn functions, up a horrible flight + of steps, now never used, in the very thickness of the wall on which the + Galerie Marchande is built. + </p> + <p> + One side of the prison-yard—that on which the Hall of Saint-Louis + forms the first floor—displays a long row of Gothic columns, between + which the architects of I know not what period have built up two floors of + cells to accommodate as many prisoners as possible, by choking the + capitals, the arches, and the vaults of this magnificent cloister with + plaster, barred loopholes, and partitions. Under the room known as the + Cabinet de Saint-Louis, in the Tour Bonbec, there is a spiral stair + leading to these dens. This degradation of one of the immemorial buildings + of France is hideous to behold. + </p> + <p> + From the height at which Lucien was standing he saw this cloister, and the + details of the building that joins the two towers, in sharp perspective; + before him were the pointed caps of the towers. He stood amazed; his + suicide was postponed to his admiration. The phenomena of hallucination + are in these days so fully recognized by the medical faculty that this + mirage of the senses, this strange illusion of the mind is beyond dispute. + A man under the stress of a feeling which by its intensity has become a + monomania, often finds himself in the frame of mind to which opium, + hasheesh, or the protoxyde of azote might have brought him. Spectres + appear, phantoms and dreams take shape, things of the past live again as + they once were. What was but an image of the brain becomes a moving or a + living object. Science is now beginning to believe that under the action + of a paroxysm of passion the blood rushes to the brain, and that such + congestion has the terrible effects of a dream in a waking state, so + averse are we to regard thought as a physical and generative force. (See + <i>Louis Lambert</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Lucien saw the building in all its pristine beauty; the columns were new, + slender and bright; Saint-Louis’ Palace rose before him as it had once + appeared; he admired its Babylonian proportions and Oriental fancy. He + took this exquisite vision as a poetic farewell from civilized creation. + While making his arrangements to die, he wondered how this marvel of + architecture could exist in Paris so utterly unknown. He was two Luciens—one + Lucien the poet, wandering through the Middle Ages under the vaults and + the turrets of Saint-Louis, the other Lucien ready for suicide. + </p> + <p> + Just as Monsieur de Granville had ended giving his instructions to the + young secretary, the Governor of the Conciergerie came in, and the + expression of his face was such as to give the public prosecutor a + presentiment of disaster. + </p> + <p> + “Have you met Monsieur Camusot?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur,” said the Governor; “his clerk Coquart instructed me to + give the Abbe Carlos a private room and to liberate Monsieur de Rubempre—but + it is too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, monsieur, is a letter for you which will explain the catastrophe. + The warder on duty in the prison-yard heard a noise of breaking glass in + the upper room, and Monsieur Lucien’s next neighbor shrieking wildly, for + he heard the young man’s dying struggles. The warder came to me pale from + the sight that met his eyes. He found the prisoner hanged from the window + bar by his necktie.” + </p> + <p> + Though the Governor spoke in a low voice, a fearful scream from Madame de + Serizy showed that under stress of feeling our faculties are incalculably + keen. The Countess heard, or guessed. Before Monsieur de Granville could + turn round, or Monsieur de Bauvan or her husband could stop her, she fled + like a flash out of the door, and reached the Galerie Marchande, where she + ran on to the stairs leading out to the Rue de la Barillerie. + </p> + <p> + A pleader was taking off his gown at the door of one of the shops which + from time immemorial have choked up this arcade, where shoes are sold, and + gowns and caps kept for hire. + </p> + <p> + The Countess asked the way to the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + “Go down the steps and turn to the left. The entrance is from the Quai de + l’Horloge, the first archway.” + </p> + <p> + “That woman is crazy,” said the shop-woman; “some one ought to follow + her.” + </p> + <p> + But no one could have kept up with Leontine; she flew. + </p> + <p> + A physician may explain how it is that these ladies of fashion, whose + strength never finds employment, reveal such powers in the critical + moments of life. + </p> + <p> + The Countess rushed so swiftly through the archway to the wicket-gate that + the gendarme on sentry did not see her pass. She flew at the barred gate + like a feather driven by the wind, and shook the iron bars with such fury + that she broke the one she grasped. The bent ends were thrust into her + breast, making the blood flow, and she dropped on the ground, shrieking, + “Open it, open it!” in a tone that struck terror into the warders. + </p> + <p> + The gatekeepers hurried out. + </p> + <p> + “Open the gate—the public prosecutor sent me—to save the dead + man!——” + </p> + <p> + While the Countess was going round by the Rue de la Barillerie and the + Quai de l’Horloge, Monsieur de Granville and Monsieur de Serizy went down + to the Conciergerie through the inner passages, suspecting Leontine’s + purpose; but notwithstanding their haste, they only arrived in time to see + her fall fainting at the outer gate, where she was picked up by two + gendarmes who had come down from the guardroom. + </p> + <p> + On seeing the Governor of the prison, the gate was opened, and the + Countess was carried into the office, but she stood up and fell on her + knees, clasping her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Only to see him—to see him! Oh! I will do no wrong! But if you do + not want to see me die on the spot, let me look at Lucien dead or living.—Ah, + my dear, are you here? Choose between my death and——” + </p> + <p> + She sank in a heap. + </p> + <p> + “You are kind,” she said; “I will always love you——” + </p> + <p> + “Carry her away,” said Monsieur de Bauvan. + </p> + <p> + “No, we will go to Lucien’s cell,” said Monsieur de Granville, reading a + purpose in Monsieur de Serizy’s wild looks. + </p> + <p> + And he lifted up the Countess, and took her under one arm, while Monsieur + de Bauvan supported her on the other side. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the Comte de Serizy to the Governor, “silence as of the + grave about all this.” + </p> + <p> + “Be easy,” replied the Governor; “you have done the wisest thing.—If + this lady——” + </p> + <p> + “She is my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I beg your pardon. Well, she will certainly faint away when she sees + the poor man, and while she is unconscious she can be taken home in a + carriage. + </p> + <p> + “That is what I thought,” replied the Count. “Pray send one of your men to + tell my servants in the Cour de Harlay to come round to the gate. Mine is + the only carriage there.” + </p> + <p> + “We can save him yet,” said the Countess, walking on with a degree of + strength and spirit that surprised her friends. “There are ways of + restoring life——” + </p> + <p> + And she dragged the gentlemen along, crying to the warder: + </p> + <p> + “Come on, come faster—one second may cost three lives!” + </p> + <p> + When the cell door was opened, and the Countess saw Lucien hanging as + though his clothes had been hung on a peg, she made a spring towards him + as if to embrace him and cling to him; but she fell on her face on the + floor with smothered shrieks and a sort of rattle in her throat. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later she was being taken home stretched on the seat in the + Count’s carriage, her husband kneeling by her side. Monsieur de Bauvan + went off to fetch a doctor to give her the care she needed. + </p> + <p> + The Governor of the Conciergerie meanwhile was examining the outer gate, + and saying to his clerk: + </p> + <p> + “No expense was spared; the bars are of wrought iron, they were properly + tested, and cost a large sum; and yet there was a flaw in that bar.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville on returning to his room had other instructions to + give to his private secretary. Massol, happily had not yet arrived. + </p> + <p> + Soon after Monsieur de Granville had left, anxious to go to see Monsieur + de Serizy, Massol came and found his ally Chargeboeuf in the public + prosecutor’s Court. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said the young secretary, “if you will do me a great + favor, you will put what I dictate to you in your <i>Gazette</i> to-morrow + under the heading of Law Reports; you can compose the heading. Write now.” + </p> + <p> + And he dictated as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It has been ascertained that the Demoiselle Esther Gobseck killed + herself of her own free will. + + “Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre satisfactorily proved an alibi, and + his innocence leaves his arrest to be regretted, all the more + because just as the examining judge had given the order for his + release the young gentleman died suddenly.” + </pre> + <p> + “I need not point out to you,” said the young lawyer to Massol, “how + necessary it is to preserve absolute silence as to the little service + requested of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Since it is you who do me the honor of so much confidence,” replied + Massol, “allow me to make one observation. This paragraph will give rise + to odious comments on the course of justice——” + </p> + <p> + “Justice is strong enough to bear them,” said the young attache to the + Courts, with the pride of a coming magistrate trained by Monsieur de + Granville. + </p> + <p> + “Allow me, my dear sir; with two sentences this difficulty may be + avoided.” + </p> + <p> + And the journalist-lawyer wrote as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The forms of the law have nothing to do with this sad event. The + post-mortem examination, which was at once made, proved that + sudden death was due to the rupture of an aneurism in its last + stage. If Monsieur Lucien de Rubempre had been upset by his + arrest, death must have ensued sooner. But we are in a position to + state that, far from being distressed at being taken into custody, + the young man, whom all must lament, only laughed at it, and told + those who escorted him from Fontainebleau to Paris that as soon as + he was brought before a magistrate his innocence would be + acknowledged.” + </pre> + <p> + “That saves it, I think?” said Massol. + </p> + <p> + “You are perfectly right.” + </p> + <p> + “The public prosecutor will thank you for it to-morrow,” said Massol + slyly. + </p> + <p> + Now to the great majority, as to the more choice reader, it will perhaps + seem that this Study is not completed by the death of Esther and of + Lucien; Jacques Collin and Asie, Europe and Paccard, in spite of their + villainous lives, may have been interesting enough to make their fate a + matter of curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The last act of the drama will also complete the picture of life which + this Study is intended to present, and give the issue of various interests + which Lucien’s career had strangely tangled by bringing some ignoble + personages from the hulks into contact with those of the highest rank. + </p> + <p> + Thus, as may be seen, the greatest events of life find their expression in + the more or less veracious gossip of the Paris papers. And this is the + case with many things of greater importance than are here recorded. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + VAUTRIN’S LAST AVATAR +</pre> + <p> + “What is it, Madeleine?” asked Madame Camusot, seeing her maid come into + the room with the particular air that servants assume in critical moments. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Madeleine, “monsieur has just come in from Court; but he + looks so upset, and is in such a state, that I think perhaps it would be + well for you to go to his room.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say anything?” asked Madame Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “No, madame; but we never have seen monsieur look like that; he looks as + if he were going to be ill, his face is yellow—he seems all to + pieces——” + </p> + <p> + Madame Camusot waited for no more; she rushed out of her room and flew to + her husband’s study. She found the lawyer sitting in an armchair, pale and + dazed, his legs stretched out, his head against the back of it, his hands + hanging limp, exactly as if he were sinking into idiotcy. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, my dear?” said the young woman in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my poor Amelie, the most dreadful thing has happened—I am still + trembling. Imagine, the public prosecutor—no, Madame de Serizy—that + is—I do not know where to begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Begin at the end,” said Madame Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Well, just as Monsieur Popinot, in the council room of the first Court, + had put the last signature to the ruling of ‘insufficient cause’ for the + apprehension of Lucien de Rubempre on the ground of my report, setting him + at liberty—in fact, the whole thing was done, the clerk was going + off with the minute book, and I was quit of the whole business—the + President of the Court came in and took up the papers. ‘You are releasing + a dead man,’ said he, with chilly irony; ‘the young man is gone, as + Monsieur de Bonald says, to appear before his natural Judge. He died of + apoplexy——’ + </p> + <p> + “I breathed again, thinking it was sudden illness. + </p> + <p> + “‘As I understand you, Monsieur le President,’ said Monsieur Popinot, ‘it + is a case of apoplexy like Pichegru’s.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Gentlemen,’ said the President then, very gravely, ‘you must please to + understand that for the outside world Lucien de Rubempre died of an + aneurism.’ + </p> + <p> + “We all looked at each other. ‘Very great people are concerned in this + deplorable business,’ said the President. ‘God grant for your sake, + Monsieur Camusot, though you did no less than your duty, that Madame de + Serizy may not go mad from the shock she has had. She was carried away + almost dead. I have just met our public prosecutor in a painful state of + despair.’—‘You have made a mess of it, my dear Camusot,’ he added in + my ear.—I assure you, my dear, as I came away I could hardly stand. + My legs shook so that I dared not venture into the street. I went back to + my room to rest. Then Coquart, who was putting away the papers of this + wretched case, told me that a very handsome woman had taken the + Conciergerie by storm, wanting to save Lucien, whom she was quite crazy + about, and that she fainted away on seeing him hanging by his necktie to + the window-bar of his room. The idea that the way in which I questioned + that unhappy young fellow—who, between ourselves, was guilty in many + ways—can have led to his committing suicide has haunted me ever + since I left the Palais, and I feel constantly on the point of fainting——” + </p> + <p> + “What next? Are you going to think yourself a murderer because a suspected + criminal hangs himself in prison just as you were about to release him?” + cried Madame Camusot. “Why, an examining judge in such a case is like a + general whose horse is killed under him!—That is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a comparison, my dear, is at best but a jest, and jesting is out of + place now. In this case the dead man clutches the living. All our hopes + are buried in Lucien’s coffin.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said Madame Camusot, with deep irony. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my career is closed. I shall be no more than an examining judge all + my life. Before this fatal termination Monsieur de Granville was annoyed + at the turn the preliminaries had taken; his speech to our President makes + me quite certain that so long as Monsieur de Granville is public + prosecutor I shall get no promotion.” + </p> + <p> + Promotion! The terrible thought, which in these days makes a judge a mere + functionary. + </p> + <p> + Formerly a magistrate was made at once what he was to remain. The three or + four presidents’ caps satisfied the ambitions of lawyers in each + Parlement. An appointment as councillor was enough for a de Brosses or a + Mole, at Dijon as much as in Paris. This office, in itself a fortune, + required a fortune brought to it to keep it up. + </p> + <p> + In Paris, outside the Parlement, men of the long robe could hope only for + three supreme appointments: those of Controller-General, Keeper of the + Seals, or Chancellor. Below the Parlement, in the lower grades, the + president of a lower Court thought himself quite of sufficient importance + to be content to fill his chair to the end of his days. + </p> + <p> + Compare the position of a councillor in the High Court of Justice in + Paris, in 1829, who has nothing but his salary, with that of a councillor + to the Parlement in 1729. How great is the difference! In these days, when + money is the universal social guarantee, magistrates are not required to + have—as they used to have—fine private fortunes: hence we see + deputies and peers of France heaping office on office, at once magistrates + and legislators, borrowing dignity from other positions than those which + ought to give them all their importance. + </p> + <p> + In short, a magistrate tries to distinguish himself for promotion as men + do in the army, or in a Government office. + </p> + <p> + This prevailing thought, even if it does not affect his independence, is + so well known and so natural, and its effects are so evident, that the law + inevitably loses some of its majesty in the eyes of the public. And, in + fact, the salaries paid by the State makes priests and magistrates mere <i>employes</i>. + Steps to be gained foster ambition, ambition engenders subservience to + power, and modern equality places the judge and the person to be judged in + the same category at the bar of society. And so the two pillars of social + order, Religion and Justice, are lowered in this nineteenth century, which + asserts itself as progressive in all things. + </p> + <p> + “And why should you never be promoted?” said Amelie Camusot. + </p> + <p> + She looked half-jestingly at her husband, feeling the necessity of + reviving the energies of the man who embodied her ambitions, and on whom + she could play as on an instrument. + </p> + <p> + “Why despair?” she went on, with a shrug that sufficiently expressed her + indifference as to the prisoner’s end. “This suicide will delight Lucien’s + two enemies, Madame d’Espard and her cousin, the Comtesse du Chatelet. + Madame d’Espard is on the best terms with the Keeper of the Seals; through + her you can get an audience of His Excellency and tell him all the secrets + of this business. Then, if the head of the law is on your side, what have + you to fear from the president of your Court or the public prosecutor?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur and Madame de Serizy?” cried the poor man. “Madame de + Serizy is gone mad, I tell you, and her madness is my doing, they say.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if she is out of her mind, O judge devoid of judgment,” said Madame + Camusot, laughing, “she can do you no harm.—Come, tell me all the + incidents of the day.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” said Camusot, “just as I had cross-questioned the unhappy + youth, and he had deposed that the self-styled Spanish priest is really + Jacques Collin, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse and Madame de Serizy sent me + a note by a servant begging me not to examine him. It was all over!——” + </p> + <p> + “But you must have lost your head!” said Amelie. “What was to prevent you, + being so sure as you are of your clerk’s fidelity, from calling Lucien + back, reassuring him cleverly, and revising the examination?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are as bad as Madame de Serizy; you laugh justice to scorn,” + said Camusot, who was incapable of flouting his profession. “Madame de + Serizy seized the minutes and threw them into the fire.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the right sort of woman! Bravo!” cried Madame Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Serizy declared she would sooner see the Palais blown up than + leave a young man who had enjoyed the favors of the Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse and her own to stand at the bar of a Criminal court by the + side of a convict!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Camusot,” said Amelie, unable to suppress a superior smile, “your + position is splendid——” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes, splendid!” + </p> + <p> + “You did your duty.” + </p> + <p> + “But all wrong; and in spite of the jesuitical advice of Monsieur de + Granville, who met me on the Quai Malaquais.” + </p> + <p> + “This morning!” + </p> + <p> + “This morning.” + </p> + <p> + “At what hour?” + </p> + <p> + “At nine o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Camusot!” cried Amelie, clasping and wringing her hands, “and I am + always imploring you to be constantly on the alert.—Good heavens! it + is not a man, but a barrow-load of stones that I have to drag on!—Why, + Camusot, your public prosecutor was waiting for you.—He must have + given you some warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed——” + </p> + <p> + “And you failed to understand him! If you are so deaf, you will indeed be + an examining judge all your life without any knowledge whatever of the + question.—At any rate, have sense enough to listen to me,” she went + on, silencing her husband, who was about to speak. “You think the matter + is done for?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Camusot looked at his wife as a country bumpkin looks at a conjurer. + </p> + <p> + “If the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse and Madame de Serizy are compromised, you + will find them both ready to patronize you,” said Amelie. “Madame de + Serizy will get you admission to the Keeper of the Seals, and you will + tell him the secret history of the affair; then he will amuse the King + with the story, for sovereigns always wish to see the wrong side of the + tapestry and to know the real meaning of the events the public stare at + open-mouthed. Henceforth there will be no cause to fear either the public + prosecutor or Monsieur de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “What a treasure such a wife is!” cried the lawyer, plucking up courage. + “After all, I have unearthed Jacques Collin; I shall send him to his + account at the Assize Court and unmask his crimes. Such a trial is a + triumph in the career of an examining judge!” + </p> + <p> + “Camusot,” Amelie began, pleased to see her husband rally from the moral + and physical prostration into which he had been thrown by Lucien’s + suicide, “the President told you that you had blundered to the wrong side. + Now you are blundering as much to the other—you are losing your way + again, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate stood up, looking at his wife with a stupid stare. + </p> + <p> + “The King and the Keeper of the Seals will be glad, no doubt, to know the + truth of this business, and at the same time much annoyed at seeing the + lawyers on the Liberal side dragging important persons to the bar of + opinion and of the Assize Court by their special pleading—such + people as the Maufrigneuses, the Serizys, and the Grandlieus, in short, + all who are directly or indirectly mixed up with this case.” + </p> + <p> + “They are all in it; I have them all!” cried Camusot. + </p> + <p> + And Camusot walked up and down the room like Sganarelle on the stage when + he is trying to get out of a scrape. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Amelie,” said he, standing in front of his wife. “An incident + recurs to my mind, a trifle in itself, but, in my position, of vital + importance. + </p> + <p> + “Realize, my dear, that this Jacques Collin is a giant of cunning, of + dissimulation, of deceit.—He is—what shall I say?—the + Cromwell of the hulks!—I never met such a scoundrel; he almost took + me in.—But in examining a criminal, a little end of thread leads you + to find a ball, is a clue to the investigation of the darkest consciences + and obscurest facts.—When Jacques Collin saw me turning over the + letters seized in Lucien de Rubempre’s lodgings, the villain glanced at + them with the evident intention of seeing whether some particular packet + were among them, and he allowed himself to give a visible expression of + satisfaction. This look, as of a thief valuing his booty, this movement, + as of a man in danger saying to himself, ‘My weapons are safe,’ betrayed a + world of things. + </p> + <p> + “Only you women, besides us and our examinees, can in a single flash + epitomize a whole scene, revealing trickery as complicated as + safety-locks. Volumes of suspicion may thus be communicated in a second. + It is terrifying—life or death lies in a wink. + </p> + <p> + “Said I to myself, ‘The rascal has more letters in his hands than these!’—Then + the other details of the case filled my mind; I overlooked the incident, + for I thought I should have my men face to face, and clear up this point + afterwards. But it may be considered as quite certain that Jacques Collin, + after the fashion of such wretches, has hidden in some safe place the most + compromising of the young fellow’s letters, adored as he was by——” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you are afraid, Camusot? Why, you will be President of the + Supreme Court much sooner than I expected!” cried Madame Camusot, her face + beaming. “Now, then, you must proceed so as to give satisfaction to + everybody, for the matter is looking so serious that it might quite + possibly be snatched from us.—Did they not take the proceedings out + of Popinot’s hands to place them in yours when Madame d’Espard tried to + get a Commission in Lunacy to incapacitate her husband?” she added, in + reply to her husband’s gesture of astonishment. “Well, then, might not the + public prosecutor, who takes such keen interest in the honor of Monsieur + and Madame de Serizy, carry the case to the Upper Court and get a + councillor in his interest to open a fresh inquiry?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, my dear, where did you study criminal law?” cried Camusot. “You + know everything; you can give me points.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, do you believe that, by to-morrow morning, Monsieur de Granville + will not have taken fright at the possible line of defence that might be + adopted by some liberal advocate whom Jacques Collin would manage to + secure; for lawyers will be ready to pay him to place the case in their + hands!—And those ladies know their danger quite as well as you do—not + to say better; they will put themselves under the protection of the public + prosecutor, who already sees their families unpleasantly close to the + prisoner’s bench, as a consequence of the coalition between this convict + and Lucien de Rubempre, betrothed to Mademoiselle de Grandlieu—Lucien, + Esther’s lover, Madame de Maufrigneuse’s former lover, Madame de Serizy’s + darling. So you must conduct the affair in such a way as to conciliate the + favor of your public prosecutor, the gratitude of Monsieur de Serizy, and + that of the Marquise d’Espard and the Comtesse du Chatelet, to reinforce + Madame de Maufrigneuse’s influence by that of the Grandlieus, and to gain + the complimentary approval of your President. + </p> + <p> + “I will undertake to deal with the ladies—d’Espard, de Maufrigneuse, + and de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “You must go to-morrow morning to see the public prosecutor. Monsieur de + Granville is a man who does not live with his wife; for ten years he had + for his mistress a Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille, who bore him illegitimate + children—didn’t she? Well, such a magistrate is no saint; he is a + man like any other; he can be won over; he must give a hold somewhere; you + must discover the weak spot and flatter him; ask his advice, point out the + dangers of attending the case; in short, try to get him into the same + boat, and you will be——” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to kiss your footprints!” exclaimed Camusot, interrupting his + wife, putting his arm round her, and pressing her to his heart. “Amelie, + you have saved me!” + </p> + <p> + “I brought you in tow from Alencon to Mantes, and from Mantes to the + Metropolitan Court,” replied Amelie. “Well, well, be quite easy!—I + intend to be called Madame la Presidente within five years’ time. But, my + dear, pray always think over everything a long time before you come to any + determination. A judge’s business is not that of a fireman; your papers + are never in a blaze, you have plenty of time to think; so in your place + blunders are inexcusable.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole strength of my position lies in identifying the sham Spanish + priest with Jacques Collin,” the judge said, after a long pause. “When + once that identity is established, even if the Bench should take the + credit of the whole affair, that will still be an ascertained fact which + no magistrate, judge, or councillor can get rid of. I shall do like the + boys who tie a tin kettle to a cat’s tail; the inquiry, whoever carries it + on, will make Jacques Collin’s tin kettle clank.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” said Amelie. + </p> + <p> + “And the public prosecutor would rather come to an understanding with me + than with any one else, since I am the only man who can remove the + Damocles’ sword that hangs over the heart of the Faubourg Saint-Germain. + </p> + <p> + “Only you have no idea how hard it will be to achieve that magnificent + result. Just now, when I was with Monsieur de Granville in his private + office, we agreed, he and I, to take Jacques Collin at his own valuation—a + canon of the Chapter of Toledo, Carlos Herrera. We consented to recognize + his position as a diplomatic envoy, and allow him to be claimed by the + Spanish Embassy. It was in consequence of this plan that I made out the + papers by which Lucien de Rubempre was released, and revised the minutes + of the examinations, washing the prisoners as white as snow. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, Rastignac, Bianchon, and some others are to be confronted with + the self-styled Canon of Toledo; they will not recognize him as Jacques + Collin who was arrested in their presence ten years ago in a cheap + boarding-house, where they knew him under the name of Vautrin.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence, while Madame Camusot sat thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure your man is Jacques Collin?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Positive,” said the lawyer, “and so is the public prosecutor.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, try to make some exposure at the Palais de Justice without + showing your claws too much under your furred cat’s paws. If your man is + still in the secret cells, go straight to the Governor of the Conciergerie + and contrive to have the convict publicly identified. Instead of behaving + like a child, act like the ministers of police under despotic governments, + who invent conspiracies against the monarch to have the credit of + discovering them and making themselves indispensable. Put three families + in danger to have the glory of rescuing them.” + </p> + <p> + “That luckily reminds me!” cried Camusot. “My brain is so bewildered that + I had quite forgotten an important point. The instructions to place + Jacques Collin in a private room were taken by Coquart to Monsieur Gault, + the Governor of the prison. Now, Bibi-Lupin, Jacques Collin’s great enemy, + has taken steps to have three criminals, who know the man, transferred + from La Force to the Conciergerie; if he appears in the prison-yard + to-morrow, a terrific scene is expected——” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Jacques Collin, my dear, was treasurer of the money owned by the + prisoners in the hulks, amounting to considerable sums; now, he is + supposed to have spent it all to maintain the deceased Lucien in luxury, + and he will be called to account. There will be such a battle, Bibi-Lupin + tells me, as will require the intervention of the warders, and the secret + will be out. Jacques Collin’s life is in danger. + </p> + <p> + “Now, if I get to the Palais early enough I may record the evidence of + identity.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if only his creditors should take him off your hands! You would be + thought such a clever fellow!—Do not go to Monsieur de Granville’s + room; wait for him in his Court with that formidable great gun. It is a + loaded cannon turned on the three most important families of the Court and + Peerage. Be bold: propose to Monsieur de Granville that he should relieve + you of Jacques Collin by transferring him to La Force, where the convicts + know how to deal with those who betray them. + </p> + <p> + “I will go to the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, who will take me to the + Grandlieus. Possibly I may see Monsieur de Serizy. Trust me to sound the + alarm everywhere. Above all, send me a word we will agree upon to let me + know if the Spanish priest is officially recognized as Jacques Collin. Get + your business at the Palais over by two o’clock, and I will have arranged + for you to have an interview with the Keeper of the Seals; perhaps I may + find him with the Marquise d’Espard.” + </p> + <p> + Camusot stood squarely with a look of admiration that made his knowing + wife smile. + </p> + <p> + “Now, come to dinner and be cheerful,” said she in conclusion. “Why, you + see! We have been only two years in Paris, and here you are on the + highroad to be made Councillor before the end of the year. From that to + the Presidency of a court, my dear, there is no gulf but what some + political service may bridge.” + </p> + <p> + This conjugal sitting shows how greatly the deeds and the lightest words + of Jacques Collin, the lowest personage in this drama, involved the honor + of the families among whom he had planted his now dead protege. + </p> + <p> + At the Conciergerie Lucien’s death and Madame de Serizy’s incursion had + produced such a block in the wheels of the machinery that the Governor had + forgotten to remove the sham priest from his dungeon-cell. + </p> + <p> + Though more than one instance is on record of the death of a prisoner + during his preliminary examination, it was a sufficiently rare event to + disturb the warders, the clerk, and the Governor, and hinder their working + with their usual serenity. At the same time, to them the important fact + was not the handsome young fellow so suddenly become a corpse, but the + breakage of the wrought-iron bar of the outer prison gate by the frail + hands of a fine lady. And indeed, as soon as the public prosecutor and + Comte Octave de Bauvan had gone off with Monsieur de Serizy and his + unconscious wife, the Governor, clerk, and turnkeys gathered round the + gate, after letting out Monsieur Lebrun, the prison doctor, who had been + called in to certify to Lucien’s death, in concert with the “death doctor” + of the district in which the unfortunate youth had been lodging. + </p> + <p> + In Paris, the “death doctor” is the medical officer whose duty it is in + each district to register deaths and certify to their causes. + </p> + <p> + With the rapid insight for which he was known, Monsieur de Granville had + judged it necessary, for the honor of the families concerned, to have the + certificate of Lucien’s death deposited at the Mairie of the district in + which the Quai Malaquais lies, as the deceased had resided there, and to + have the body carried from his lodgings to the Church of Saint-Germain des + Pres, where the service was to be held. Monsieur de Chargeboeuf, Monsieur + de Granville’s private secretary, had orders to this effect. The body was + to be transferred from the prison during the night. The secretary was + desired to go at once and settle matters at the Mairie with the parish + authorities and with the official undertakers. Thus, to the world in + general, Lucien would have died at liberty in his own lodgings, the + funeral would start from thence, and his friends would be invited there + for the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + So, when Camusot, his mind at ease, was sitting down to dinner with his + ambitious better-half, the Governor of the Conciergerie and Monsieur + Lebrun, the prison doctor, were standing outside the gate bewailing the + fragility of iron bars and the strength of ladies in love. + </p> + <p> + “No one knows,” said the doctor to Monsieur Gault, “what an amount of + nervous force there is in a man wound up to the highest pitch of passion. + Dynamics and mathematics have no formulas or symbols to express that + power. Why, only yesterday, I witnessed an experiment which gave me a + shudder, and which accounts for the terrible strength put forth just now + by that little woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about it,” said Monsieur Gault, “for I am so foolish as to take + an interest in magnetism; I do not believe in it, but it mystifies me.” + </p> + <p> + “A physician who magnetizes—for there are men among us who believe + in magnetism,” Lebrun went on, “offered to experiment on me in proof of a + phenomenon that he described and I doubted. Curious to see with my own + eyes one of the strange states of nervous tension by which the existence + of magnetism is demonstrated, I consented. + </p> + <p> + “These are the facts.—I should very much like to know what our + College of Medicine would say if each of its members in turn were + subjected to this influence, which leaves no loophole for incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “My old friend—this doctor,” said Doctor Lebrun parenthetically, “is + an old man persecuted for his opinions since Mesmer’s time by all the + faculty; he is seventy or seventy-two years of age, and his name is + Bouvard. At the present day he is the patriarchal representative of the + theory of animal magnetism. This good man regards me as a son; I owe my + training to him.—Well, this worthy old Bouvard it was who proposed + to prove to me that nerve-force put in motion by the magnetizer was, not + indeed infinite, for man is under immutable laws, but a power acting like + other powers of nature whose elemental essence escapes our observation. + </p> + <p> + “‘For instance,’ said he, ‘if you place your hand in that of a + somnambulist who, when awake, can press it only up to a certain average of + tightness, you will see that in the somnambulistic state—as it is + stupidly termed—his fingers can clutch like a vise screwed up by a + blacksmith.’—Well, monsieur, I placed my hand in that of a woman, + not asleep, for Bouvard rejects the word, but isolated, and when the old + man bid her squeeze my wrist as long and as tightly as she could, I begged + him to stop when the blood was almost bursting from my finger tips. Look, + you can see the marks of her clutch, which I shall not lose for these + three months.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce!” exclaimed Monsieur Gault, as he saw a band of bruised flesh, + looking like the scar of a burn. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Gault,” the doctor went on, “if my wrist had been gripped in an + iron manacle screwed tight by a locksmith, I should not have felt the + bracelet of metal so hard as that woman’s fingers; her hand was of + unyielding steel, and I am convinced that she could have crushed my bones + and broken my hand from the wrist. The pressure, beginning almost + insensibly, increased without relaxing, fresh force being constantly added + to the former grip; a tourniquet could not have been more effectual than + that hand used as an instrument of torture.—To me, therefore, it + seems proven that under the influence of passion, which is the will + concentrated on one point and raised to an incalculable power of animal + force, as the different varieties of electric force are also, man may + direct his whole vitality, whether for attack or resistance, to one of his + organs.—Now, this little lady, under the stress of her despair, had + concentrated her vital force in her hands.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have a good deal too, to break a wrought-iron bar,” said the + chief warder, with a shake of the head. + </p> + <p> + “There was a flaw in it,” Monsieur Gault observed. + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said the doctor, “I dare assign no limits to nervous force. + And indeed it is by this that mothers, to save their children, can + magnetize lions, climb, in a fire, along a parapet where a cat would not + venture, and endure the torments that sometimes attend childbirth. In this + lies the secret of the attempts made by convicts and prisoners to regain + their liberty. The extent of our vital energies is as yet unknown; they + are part of the energy of nature itself, and we draw them from unknown + reservoirs.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the warder in an undertone to the Governor, coming close + to him as he was escorting Doctor Lebrun as far as the outer gates of the + Conciergerie, “Number 2 in the secret cells says he is ill, and needs the + doctor; he declares he is dying,” added the turnkey. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “His breath rattles in his throat,” replied the man. + </p> + <p> + “It is five o’clock,” said the doctor; “I have had no dinner. But, after + all, I am at hand. Come, let us see.” + </p> + <p> + “Number 2, as it happens, is the Spanish priest suspected of being Jacques + Collin,” said Monsieur Gault to the doctor, “and one of the persons + suspected of the crime in which that poor young man was implicated.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him this morning,” replied the doctor. “Monsieur Camusot sent for + me to give evidence as to the state of the rascal’s health, and I may + assure you that he is perfectly well, and could make a fortune by playing + the part of Hercules in a troupe of athletes.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he wants to kill himself too,” said Monsieur Gault. “Let us both + go down to the cells together, for I ought to go there if only to transfer + him to an upper room. Monsieur Camusot has given orders to mitigate this + anonymous gentleman’s confinement.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, known as <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> in the world of the hulks, + who must henceforth be called only by his real name, had gone through + terrible distress of mind since, after hearing Camusot’s order, he had + been taken back to the underground cell—an anguish such as he had + never before known in the course of a life diversified by many crimes, by + three escapes, and two sentences at the Assizes. And is there not + something monstrously fine in the dog-like attachment shown to the man he + had made his friend by this wretch in whom were concentrated all the life, + the powers, the spirit, and the passions of the hulks, who was, so to + speak, their highest expression? + </p> + <p> + Wicked, infamous, and in so many ways horrible, this absolute worship of + his idol makes him so truly interesting that this Study, long as it is + already, would seem incomplete and cut short if the close of this criminal + career did not come as a sequel to Lucien de Rubempre’s end. The little + spaniel being dead, we want to know whether his terrible playfellow the + lion will live on. + </p> + <p> + In real life, in society, every event is so inevitably linked to other + events, that one cannot occur without the rest. The water of the great + river forms a sort of fluid floor; not a wave, however rebellious, however + high it may toss itself, but its powerful crest must sink to the level of + the mass of waters, stronger by the momentum of its course than the revolt + of the surges it bears with it. + </p> + <p> + And just as you watch the current flow, seeing in it a confused sheet of + images, so perhaps you would like to measure the pressure exerted by + social energy on the vortex called Vautrin; to see how far away the + rebellious eddy will be carried ere it is lost, and what the end will be + of this really diabolical man, human still by the power of loving—so + hardly can that heavenly grace perish, even in the most cankered heart. + </p> + <p> + This wretched convict, embodying the poem that has smiled on many a poet’s + fancy—on Moore, on Lord Byron, on Mathurin, on Canalis—the + demon who has drawn an angel down to hell to refresh him with dews stolen + from heaven,—this Jacques Collin will be seen, by the reader who has + understood that iron soul, to have sacrificed his own life for seven years + past. His vast powers, absorbed in Lucien, acted solely for Lucien; he + lived for his progress, his loves, his ambitions. To him, Lucien was his + own soul made visible. + </p> + <p> + It was <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> who dined with the Grandlieus, stole into + ladies’ boudoirs, and loved Esther by proxy. In fact, in Lucien he saw + Jacques Collin, young, handsome, noble, and rising to the dignity of an + ambassador. + </p> + <p> + <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> had realized the German superstition of a + doppelganger by means of a spiritual paternity, a phenomenon which will be + quite intelligible to those women who have ever truly loved, who have felt + their soul merge in that of the man they adore, who have lived his life, + whether noble or infamous, happy or unhappy, obscure or brilliant; who, in + defiance of distance, have felt a pain in their leg if he were wounded in + his; who if he fought a duel would have been aware of it; and who, to put + the matter in a nutshell, did not need to be told he was unfaithful to + know it. + </p> + <p> + As he went back to his cell Jacques Collin said to himself, “The boy is + being examined.” + </p> + <p> + And he shivered—he who thought no more of killing a man than a + laborer does of drinking. + </p> + <p> + “Has he been able to see his mistresses?” he wondered. “Has my aunt + succeeded in catching those damned females? Have the Duchesses and + Countesses bestirred themselves and prevented his being examined? Has + Lucien had my instructions? And if ill-luck will have it that he is + cross-questioned, how will he carry it off? Poor boy, and I have brought + him to this! It is that rascal Paccard and that sneak Europe who have + caused all this rumpus by collaring the seven hundred and fifty thousand + francs for the certificate Nucingen gave Esther. That precious pair + tripped us up at the last step; but I will make them pay dear for their + pranks. + </p> + <p> + “One day more and Lucien would have been a rich man; he might have married + his Clotilde de Grandlieu.—Then the boy would have been all my own!—And + to think that our fate depends on a look, on a blush of Lucien’s under + Camusot’s eye, who sees everything, and has all a judge’s wits about him! + For when he showed me the letters we tipped each other a wink in which we + took each other’s measure, and he guessed that I can make Lucien’s + lady-loves fork out.” + </p> + <p> + This soliloquy lasted for three hours. His torments were so great that + they were too much for that frame of iron and vitriol; Jacques Collin, + whose brain felt on fire with insanity, suffered such fearful thirst that + he unconsciously drank up all the water contained in one of the pails with + which the cell was supplied, forming, with the bed, all its furniture. + </p> + <p> + “If he loses his head, what will become of him?—for the poor child + has not Theodore’s tenacity,” said he to himself, as he lay down on the + camp-bed—like a bed in a guard-room. + </p> + <p> + A word must here be said about this Theodore, remembered by Jacques Collin + at such a critical moment. Theodore Calvi, a young Corsican, imprisoned + for life at the age of eighteen for eleven murders, thanks to the + influential interference paid for with vast sums, had been made the fellow + convict of Jacques Collin, to whom he was chained, in 1819 and 1820. + Jacques Collin’s last escape, one of his finest inventions—for he + had got out disguised as a gendarme leading Theodore Calvi as he was, a + convict called before the commissary of police—had been effected in + the seaport of Rochefort, where the convicts die by dozens, and where, it + was hoped, these two dangerous rascals would have ended their days. Though + they escaped together, the difficulties of their flight had forced them to + separate. Theodore was caught and restored to the hulks. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, a life with Lucien, a youth innocent of all crime, who had only + minor sins on his conscience, dawned on him as bright and glorious as a + summer sun; while with Theodore, Jacques Collin could look forward to no + end but the scaffold after a career of indispensable crimes. + </p> + <p> + The thought of disaster as a result of Lucien’s weakness—for his + experience of an underground cell would certainly have turned his brain—took + vast proportions in Jacques Collin’s mind; and, contemplating the + probabilities of such a misfortune, the unhappy man felt his eyes fill + with tears, a phenomenon that had been utterly unknown to him since his + earliest childhood. + </p> + <p> + “I must be in a furious fever,” said he to himself; “and perhaps if I send + for the doctor and offer him a handsome sum, he will put me in + communication with Lucien.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the turnkey brought in his dinner. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite useless my boy; I cannot eat. Tell the governor of this + prison to send the doctor to see me. I am very bad, and I believe my last + hour has come.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing the guttural rattle that accompanied these words, the warder bowed + and went. Jacques Collin clung wildly to this hope; but when he saw the + doctor and the governor come in together, he perceived that the attempt + was abortive, and coolly awaited the upshot of the visit, holding out his + wrist for the doctor to feel his pulse. + </p> + <p> + “The Abbe is feverish,” said the doctor to Monsieur Gault, “but it is the + type of fever we always find in inculpated prisoners—and to me,” he + added, in the governor’s ear, “it is always a sign of some degree of + guilt.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the governor, to whom the public prosecutor had intrusted + Lucien’s letter to be given to Jacques Collin, left the doctor and the + prisoner together under the guard of the warder, and went to fetch the + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Jacques Collin, seeing the warder outside the door, and + not understanding why the governor had left them, “I should think nothing + of thirty thousand francs if I might send five lines to Lucien de + Rubempre.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not rob you of your money,” said Doctor Lebrun; “no one in this + world can ever communicate with him again——” + </p> + <p> + “No one?” said the prisoner in amazement. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “He has hanged himself——” + </p> + <p> + No tigress robbed of her whelps ever startled an Indian jungle with a yell + so fearful as that of Jacques Collin, who rose to his feet as a tiger + rears to spring, and fired a glance at the doctor as scorching as the + flash of a falling thunderbolt. Then he fell back on the bed, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my son!” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” said the doctor, moved by this terrific convulsion of nature. + </p> + <p> + In fact, the first explosion gave way to such utter collapse, that the + words, “Oh, my son,” were but a murmur. + </p> + <p> + “Is this one going to die in our hands too?” said the turnkey. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is impossible!” Jacques Collin went on, raising himself and + looking at the two witnesses of the scene with a dead, cold eye. “You are + mistaken; it is not Lucien; you did not see. A man cannot hang himself in + one of these cells. Look—how could I hang myself here? All Paris + shall answer to me for that boy’s life! God owes it to me.” + </p> + <p> + The warder and the doctor were amazed in their turn—they, whom + nothing had astonished for many a long day. + </p> + <p> + On seeing the governor, Jacques Collin, crushed by the very violence of + this outburst of grief, seemed somewhat calmer. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a letter which the public prosecutor placed in my hands for you, + with permission to give it to you sealed,” said Monsieur Gault. + </p> + <p> + “From Lucien?” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Is not that young man——” + </p> + <p> + “He is dead,” said the governor. “Even if the doctor had been on the spot, + he would, unfortunately, have been too late. The young man died—there—in + one of the rooms——” + </p> + <p> + “May I see him with my own eyes?” asked Jacques Collin timidly. “Will you + allow a father to weep over the body of his son?” + </p> + <p> + “You can, if you like, take his room, for I have orders to remove you from + these cells; you are no longer in such close confinement, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner’s eyes, from which all light and warmth had fled, turned + slowly from the governor to the doctor; Jacques Collin was examining them, + fearing some trap, and he was afraid to go out of the cell. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish to see the body,” said Lebrun, “you have no time to lose; it + is to be carried away to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have children, gentlemen,” said Jacques Collin, “you will + understand my state of mind; I hardly know what I am doing. This blow is + worse to me than death; but you cannot know what I am saying. Even if you + are fathers, it is only after a fashion—I am a mother too—I—I + am going mad—I feel it!” + </p> + <p> + By going through certain passages which open only to the governor, it is + possible to get very quickly from the cells to the private rooms. The two + sets of rooms are divided by an underground corridor formed of two massive + walls supporting the vault over which Galerie Marchande, as it is called, + is built. So Jacques Collin, escorted by the warder, who took his arm, + preceded by the governor, and followed by the doctor, in a few minutes + reached the cell where Lucien was lying stretched on the bed. + </p> + <p> + On seeing the body, he threw himself upon it, seizing it in a desperate + embrace with a passion and impulse that made these spectators shudder. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said the doctor to Monsieur Gault, “that is an instance of what I + was telling you. You see that man clutching the body, and you do not know + what a corpse is; it is stone——” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me alone!” said Jacques Collin in a smothered voice; “I have not + long to look at him. They will take him away to——” + </p> + <p> + He paused at the word “bury him.” + </p> + <p> + “You will allow me to have some relic of my dear boy! Will you be so kind + as to cut off a lock of his hair for me, monsieur,” he said to the doctor, + “for I cannot——” + </p> + <p> + “He was certainly his son,” said Lebrun. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” replied the governor in a meaning tone, which made the + doctor thoughtful for a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + The governor gave orders that the prisoner should be left in this cell, + and that some locks of hair should be cut for the self-styled father + before the body should be removed. + </p> + <p> + At half-past five in the month of May it is easy to read a letter in the + Conciergerie in spite of the iron bars and the close wire trellis that + guard the windows. So Jacques Collin read the dreadful letter while he + still held Lucien’s hand. + </p> + <p> + The man is not known who can hold a lump of ice for ten minutes tightly + clutched in the hollow of his hand. The cold penetrates to the very + life-springs with mortal rapidity. But the effect of that cruel chill, + acting like a poison, is as nothing to that which strikes to the soul from + the cold, rigid hand of the dead thus held. Thus Death speaks to Life; it + tells many dark secrets which kill many feelings; for in matters of + feeling is not change death? + </p> + <p> + As we read through once more, with Jacques Collin, Lucien’s last letter, + it will strike us as being what it was to this man—a cup of poison:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “<i>To the Abbe Carlos Herrera</i>. + + “MY DEAR ABBE,—I have had only benefits from you, and I have + betrayed you. This involuntary ingratitude is killing me, and when + you read these lines I shall have ceased to exist. You are not + here now to save me. + + “You had given me full liberty, if I should find it advantageous, + to destroy you by flinging you on the ground like a cigar-end; but + I have ruined you by a blunder. To escape from a difficulty, + deluded by a clever question from the examining judge, your son by + adoption and grace went over to the side of those who aim at + killing you at any cost, and insist on proving an identity, which + I know to be impossible, between you and a French villain. All is + said. + + “Between a man of your calibre and me—me of whom you tried to + make a greater man than I am capable of being—no foolish + sentiment can come at the moment of final parting. You hoped to + make me powerful and famous, and you have thrown me into the gulf + of suicide, that is all. I have long heard the broad pinions of + that vertigo beating over my head. + + “As you have sometimes said, there is the posterity of Cain and + the posterity of Abel. In the great human drama Cain is in + opposition. You are descended from Adam through that line, in + which the devil still fans the fire of which the first spark was + flung on Eve. Among the demons of that pedigree, from time to time + we see one of stupendous power, summing up every form of human + energy, and resembling the fevered beasts of the desert, whose + vitality demands the vast spaces they find there. Such men are as + dangerous as lions would be in the heart of Normandy; they must + have their prey, and they devour common men and crop the money of + fools. Their sport is so dangerous that at last they kill the + humble dog whom they have taken for a companion and made an idol + of. + + “When it is God’s will, these mysterious beings may be a Moses, an + Attila, Charlemagne, Mahomet, or Napoleon; but when He leaves a + generation of these stupendous tools to rust at the bottom of the + ocean, they are no more than a Pugatschef, a Fouche, a Louvel, or + the Abbe Carlos Herrera. Gifted with immense power over tenderer + souls, they entrap them and mangle them. It is grand, it is fine + —in its way. It is the poisonous plant with gorgeous coloring that + fascinates children in the woods. It is the poetry of evil. Men + like you ought to dwell in caves and never come out of them. You + have made me live that vast life, and I have had all my share of + existence; so I may very well take my head out of the Gordian knot + of your policy and slip it into the running knot of my cravat. + + “To repair the mischief I have done, I am forwarding to the public + prosecutor a retraction of my deposition. You will know how to + take advantage of this document. + + “In virtue of a will formally drawn up, restitution will be made, + Monsieur l’Abbe, of the moneys belonging to your Order which you + so imprudently devoted to my use, as a result of your paternal + affection for me. + + “And so, farewell. Farewell, colossal image of Evil and + Corruption; farewell—to you who, if started on the right road, + might have been greater than Ximenes, greater than Richelieu! You + have kept your promises. I find myself once more just as I was on + the banks of the Charente, after enjoying, by your help, the + enchantments of a dream. But, unfortunately, it is not now in the + waters of my native place that I shall drown the errors of a boy; + but in the Seine, and my hole is a cell in the Conciergerie. + + “Do not regret me: my contempt for you is as great as my + admiration. + + “LUCIEN.” + </pre> + <p> + A little before one in the morning, when the men came to fetch away the + body, they found Jacques Collin kneeling by the bed, the letter on the + floor, dropped, no doubt, as a suicide drops the pistol that has shot him; + but the unhappy man still held Lucien’s hand between his own, and was + praying to God. + </p> + <p> + On seeing this man, the porters paused for a moment, for he looked like + one of those stone images, kneeling to all eternity on a mediaeval tomb, + the work of some stone-carver’s genius. The sham priest, with eyes as + bright as a tiger’s, but stiffened into supernatural rigidity, so + impressed the men that they gently bid him rise. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he asked mildly. The audacious <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> was as meek as + a child. + </p> + <p> + The governor pointed him out to Monsieur de Chargeboeuf; and he, + respecting such grief, and believing that Jacques Collin was indeed the + priest he called himself, explained the orders given by Monsieur de + Granville with regard to the funeral service and arrangements, showing + that it was absolutely necessary that the body should be transferred to + Lucien’s lodgings, Quai Malaquais, where the priests were waiting to watch + by it for the rest of the night. + </p> + <p> + “It is worthy of that gentleman’s well-known magnanimity,” said Jacques + Collin sadly. “Tell him, monsieur, that he may rely on my gratitude. Yes, + I am in a position to do him great service. Do not forget these words; + they are of the utmost importance to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur! strange changes come over a man’s spirit when for seven + hours he has wept over such a son as he——And I shall see him + no more!” + </p> + <p> + After gazing once more at Lucien with an expression of a mother bereft of + her child’s remains, Jacques Collin sank in a heap. As he saw Lucien’s + body carried away, he uttered a groan that made the men hurry off. The + public prosecutor’s private secretary and the governor of the prison had + already made their escape from the scene. + </p> + <p> + What had become of that iron spirit; of the decision which was a match in + swiftness for the eye; of the nature in which thought and action flashed + forth together like one flame; of the sinews hardened by three spells of + labor on the hulks, and by three escapes, the muscles which had acquired + the metallic temper of a savage’s limbs? Iron will yield to a certain + amount of hammering or persistent pressure; its impenetrable molecules, + purified and made homogeneous by man, may become disintegrated, and + without being in a state of fusion the metal had lost its power of + resistance. Blacksmiths, locksmiths, tool-makers sometimes express this + state by saying the iron is retting, appropriating a word applied + exclusively to hemp, which is reduced to pulp and fibre by maceration. + Well, the human soul, or, if you will, the threefold powers of body, + heart, and intellect, under certain repeated shocks, get into such a + condition as fibrous iron. They too are disintegrated. Science and law and + the public seek a thousand causes for the terrible catastrophes on + railways caused by the rupture of an iron rail, that of Bellevue being a + famous instance; but no one has asked the evidence of real experts in such + matters, the blacksmiths, who all say the same thing, “The iron was + stringy!” The danger cannot be foreseen. Metal that has gone soft, and + metal that has preserved its tenacity, both look exactly alike. + </p> + <p> + Priests and examining judges often find great criminals in this state. The + awful experiences of the Assize Court and the “last toilet” commonly + produce this dissolution of the nervous system, even in the strongest + natures. Then confessions are blurted by the most firmly set lips; then + the toughest hearts break; and, strange to say, always at the moment when + these confessions are useless, when this weakness as of death snatches + from the man the mask of innocence which made Justice uneasy—for it + always is uneasy when the criminal dies without confessing his crime. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon went through this collapse of every human power on the field of + Waterloo. + </p> + <p> + At eight in the morning, when the warder of the better cells entered the + room where Jacques Collin was confined, he found him pale and calm, like a + man who has collected all his strength by sheer determination. + </p> + <p> + “It is the hour for airing in the prison-yard,” said the turnkey; “you + have not been out for three days; if you choose to take air and exercise, + you may.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, lost in his absorbing thoughts, and taking no interest in + himself, regarding himself as a garment with no body in it, a perfect rag, + never suspected the trap laid for him by Bibi-Lupin, nor the importance + attaching to his walk in the prison-yard. + </p> + <p> + The unhappy man went out mechanically, along the corridor, by the cells + built into the magnificent cloisters of the Palace of the Kings, over + which is the corridor Saint-Louis, as it is called, leading to the various + purlieus of the Court of Appeals. This passage joins that of the better + cells; and it is worth noting that the cell in which Louvel was + imprisoned, one of the most famous of the regicides, is the room at the + right angle formed by the junction of the two corridors. Under the pretty + room in the Tour Bonbec there is a spiral staircase leading from the dark + passage, and serving the prisoners who are lodged in these cells to go up + and down on their way from or to the yard. + </p> + <p> + Every prisoner, whether committed for trial or already sentenced, and the + prisoners under suspicion who have been reprieved from the closest cells—in + short, every one in confinement in the Conciergerie takes exercise in this + narrow paved courtyard for some hours every day, especially the early + hours of summer mornings. This recreation ground, the ante-room to the + scaffold or the hulks on one side, on the other still clings to the world + through the gendarme, the examining judge, and the Assize Court. It + strikes a greater chill perhaps than even the scaffold. The scaffold may + be a pedestal to soar to heaven from; but the prison-yard is every infamy + on earth concentrated and unavoidable. + </p> + <p> + Whether at La Force or at Poissy, at Melun or at Sainte-Pelagie, a + prison-yard is a prison-yard. The same details are exactly repeated, all + but the color of the walls, their height, and the space enclosed. So this + Study of Manners would be false to its name if it did not include an exact + description of this Pandemonium of Paris. + </p> + <p> + Under the mighty vaulting which supports the lower courts and the Court of + Appeals there is, close to the fourth arch, a stone slab, used by + Saint-Louis, it is said, for the distribution of alms, and doing duty in + our day as a counter for the sale of eatables to the prisoners. So as soon + as the prison-yard is open to the prisoners, they gather round this stone + table, which displays such dainties as jail-birds desire—brandy, + rum, and the like. + </p> + <p> + The first two archways on that side of the yard, facing the fine Byzantine + corridor—the only vestige now of Saint-Louis’ elegant palace—form + a parlor, where the prisoners and their counsel may meet, to which the + prisoners have access through a formidable gateway—a double passage, + railed off by enormous bars, within the width of the third archway. This + double way is like the temporary passages arranged at the door of a + theatre to keep a line on occasions when a great success brings a crowd. + This parlor, at the very end of the vast entrance-hall of the + Conciergerie, and lighted by loop-holes on the yard side, has lately been + opened out towards the back, and the opening filled with glass, so that + the interviews of the lawyers with their clients are under supervision. + This innovation was made necessary by the too great fascinations brought + to bear by pretty women on their counsel. Where will morality stop short? + Such precautions are like the ready-made sets of questions for + self-examination, where pure imaginations are defiled by meditating on + unknown and monstrous depravity. In this parlor, too, parents and friends + may be allowed by the authorities to meet the prisoners, whether on remand + or awaiting their sentence. + </p> + <p> + The reader may now understand what the prison-yard is to the two hundred + prisoners in the Conciergerie: their garden—a garden without trees, + beds, or flowers—in short, a prison-yard. The parlor, and the stone + of Saint-Louis, where such food and liquor as are allowed are dispensed, + are the only possible means of communication with the outer world. + </p> + <p> + The hour spent in the yard is the only time when the prisoner is in the + open air or the society of his kind; in other prisons those who are + sentenced for a term are brought together in workshops; but in the + Conciergerie no occupation is allowed, excepting in the privileged cells. + There the absorbing idea in every mind is the drama of the Assize Court, + since the culprit comes only to be examined or to be sentenced. + </p> + <p> + This yard is indeed terrible to behold; it cannot be imagined, it must be + seen. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, the assemblage, in a space forty metres long by thirty + wide, of a hundred condemned or suspected criminals, does not constitute + the cream of society. These creatures, belonging for the most part to the + lowest ranks, are poorly clad; their countenances are base or horrible, + for a criminal from the upper sphere of society is happily, a rare + exception. Peculation, forgery, or fraudulent bankruptcy, the only crimes + that can bring decent folks so low, enjoy the privilege of the better + cells, and then the prisoner scarcely ever quits it. + </p> + <p> + This promenade, bounded by fine but formidable blackened walls, by a + cloister divided up into cells, by fortifications on the side towards the + quay, by the barred cells of the better class on the north, watched by + vigilant warders, and filled with a herd of criminals, all meanly + suspicious of each other, is depressing enough in itself; and it becomes + terrifying when you find yourself the centre of all those eyes full of + hatred, curiosity, and despair, face to face with that degraded crew. Not + a gleam of gladness! all is gloom—the place and the men. All is + speechless—the walls and men’s consciences. To these hapless + creatures danger lies everywhere; excepting in the case of an alliance as + ominous as the prison where it was formed, they dare not trust each other. + </p> + <p> + The police, all-pervading, poisons the atmosphere and taints everything, + even the hand-grasp of two criminals who have been intimate. A convict who + meets his most familiar comrade does not know that he may not have + repented and have made a confession to save his life. This absence of + confidence, this dread of the nark, marks the liberty, already so + illusory, of the prison-yard. The “nark” (in French, le Mouton or le + coqueur) is a spy who affects to be sentenced for some serious offence, + and whose skill consists in pretending to be a chum. The “chum,” in + thieves’ slang, is a skilled thief, a professional who has cut himself + adrift from society, and means to remain a thief all his days, and + continues faithful through thick and thin to the laws of the swell-mob. + </p> + <p> + Crime and madness have a certain resemblance. To see the prisoners of the + Conciergerie in the yard, or the madmen in the garden of an asylum, is + much the same thing. Prisoners and lunatics walk to and fro, avoiding each + other, looking up with more or less strange or vicious glances, according + to the mood of the moment, but never cheerful, never grave; they know each + other, or they dread each other. The anticipation of their sentence, + remorse, and apprehension give all these men exercising, the anxious, + furtive look of the insane. Only the most consummate criminals have the + audacity that apes the quietude of respectability, the sincerity of a + clear conscience. + </p> + <p> + As men of the better class are few, and shame keeps the few whose crimes + have brought them within doors, the frequenters of the prison-yard are for + the most part dressed as workmen. Blouses, long and short, and velveteen + jackets preponderate. These coarse or dirty garments, harmonizing with the + coarse and sinister faces and brutal manner—somewhat subdued, + indeed, by the gloomy reflections that weigh on men in prison—everything, + to the silence that reigns, contributes to strike terror or disgust into + the rare visitor who, by high influence, has obtained the privilege, + seldom granted, of going over the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + Just as the sight of an anatomical museum, where foul diseases are + represented by wax models, makes the youth who may be taken there more + chaste and apt for nobler and purer love, so the sight of the Conciergerie + and of the prison-yard, filled with men marked for the hulks or the + scaffold or some disgraceful punishment, inspires many, who might not fear + that Divine Justice whose voice speaks so loudly to the conscience, with a + fear of human justice; and they come out honest men for a long time after. + </p> + <p> + As the men who were exercising in the prison-yard, when <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> + appeared there, were to be the actors in a scene of crowning importance in + the life of Jacques Collin, it will be well to depict a few of the + principal personages of this sinister crowd. + </p> + <p> + Here, as everywhere when men are thrown together, here, as at school even, + force, physical and moral, wins the day. Here, then, as on the hulks, + crime stamps the man’s rank. Those whose head is doomed are the + aristocracy. The prison-yard, as may be supposed, is a school of criminal + law, which is far better learned there than at the Hall on the Place du + Pantheon. + </p> + <p> + A never-failing pleasantry is to rehearse the drama of the Assize Court; + to elect a president, a jury, a public prosecutor, a counsel, and to go + through the whole trial. This hideous farce is played before almost every + great trial. At this time a famous case was proceeding in the Criminal + Court, that of the dreadful murder committed on the persons of Monsieur + and Madame Crottat, the notary’s father and mother, retired farmers who, + as this horrible business showed, kept eight hundred thousand francs in + gold in their house. + </p> + <p> + One of the men concerned in this double murder was the notorious + Dannepont, known as la Pouraille, a released convict, who for five years + had eluded the most active search on the part of the police, under the + protection of seven or eight different names. This villain’s disguises + were so perfect, that he had served two years of imprisonment under the + name of Delsouq, who was one of his own disciples, and a famous thief, + though he never, in any of his achievements, went beyond the jurisdiction + of the lower Courts. La Pouraille had committed no less than three murders + since his dismissal from the hulks. The certainty that he would be + executed, not less than the large fortune he was supposed to have, made + this man an object of terror and admiration to his fellow-prisoners; for + not a farthing of the stolen money had ever been recovered. Even after the + events of July 1830, some persons may remember the terror caused in Paris + by this daring crime, worthy to compare in importance with the robbery of + medals from the Public Library; for the unhappy tendency of our age is to + make a murder the more interesting in proportion to the greater sum of + money secured by it. + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille, a small, lean, dry man, with a face like a ferret, + forty-five years old, and one of the celebrities of the prisons he had + successively lived in since the age of nineteen, knew Jacques Collin well, + how and why will be seen. + </p> + <p> + Two other convicts, brought with la Pouraille from La Force within these + twenty-four hours, had at once acknowledged and made the whole prison-yard + acknowledge the supremacy of this past-master sealed to the scaffold. One + of these convicts, a ticket-of-leave man, named Selerier, alias + l’Avuergnat, Pere Ralleau, and le Rouleur, who in the sphere known to the + hulks as the swell-mob was called Fil-de-Soie (or silken thread)—a + nickname he owed to the skill with which he slipped through the various + perils of the business—was an old ally of Jacques Collin’s. + </p> + <p> + <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> so keenly suspected Fil-de-Soie of playing a double + part, of being at once in the secrets of the swell-mob and a spy laid by + the police, that he had supposed him to be the prime mover of his arrest + in the Maison Vauquer in 1819 (<i>Le Pere Goriot</i>). Selerier, whom we + must call Fil-de-Soie, as we shall also call Dannepont la Pouraille, + already guilty of evading surveillance, was concerned in certain + well-known robberies without bloodshed, which would certainly take him + back to the hulks for at least twenty years. + </p> + <p> + The other convict, named Riganson, and his kept woman, known as la Biffe, + were a most formidable couple, members of the swell-mob. Riganson, on very + distant terms with the police from his earliest years, was nicknamed le + Biffon. Biffon was the male of la Biffe—for nothing is sacred to the + swell-mob. These fiends respect nothing, neither the law nor religions, + not even natural history, whose solemn nomenclature, it is seen, is + parodied by them. + </p> + <p> + Here a digression is necessary; for Jacques Collin’s appearance in the + prison-yard in the midst of his foes, as had been so cleverly contrived by + Bibi-Lupin and the examining judge, and the strange scenes to ensue, would + be incomprehensible and impossible without some explanation as to the + world of thieves and of the hulks, its laws, its manners, and above all, + its language, its hideous figures of speech being indispensable in this + portion of my tale. + </p> + <p> + So, first of all, a few words must be said as to the vocabulary of + sharpers, pickpockets, thieves, and murderers, known as Argot, or thieves’ + cant, which has of late been introduced into literature with so much + success that more than one word of that strange lingo is familiar on the + rosy lips of ladies, has been heard in gilded boudoirs, and become the + delight of princes, who have often proclaimed themselves “done brown” + (floue)! And it must be owned, to the surprise no doubt of many persons, + that no language is more vigorous or more vivid than that of this + underground world which, from the beginnings of countries with capitals, + has dwelt in cellars and slums, in the third limbo of society everywhere + (le troisieme dessous, as the expressive and vivid slang of the theatres + has it). For is not the world a stage? Le troisieme dessous is the lowest + cellar under the stage at the Opera where the machinery is kept and men + stay who work it, whence the footlights are raised, the ghosts, the + blue-devils shot up from hell, and so forth. + </p> + <p> + Every word of this language is a bold metaphor, ingenious or horrible. A + man’s breeches are his kicks or trucks (montante, a word that need not be + explained). In this language you do not sleep, you snooze, or doze + (pioncer—and note how vigorously expressive the word is of the sleep + of the hunted, weary, distrustful animal called a thief, which as soon as + it is in safety drops—rolls—into the gulf of deep slumber so + necessary under the mighty wings of suspicion always hovering over it; a + fearful sleep, like that of a wild beast that can sleep, nay, and snore, + and yet its ears are alert with caution). + </p> + <p> + In this idiom everything is savage. The syllables which begin or end the + words are harsh and curiously startling. A woman is a trip or a moll (une + largue). And it is poetical too: straw is la plume de Beauce, a farmyard + feather bed. The word midnight is paraphrased by twelve leads striking—it + makes one shiver! Rincer une cambriole is to “screw the shop,” to rifle a + room. What a feeble expression is to go to bed in comparison with “to + doss” (piausser, make a new skin). What picturesque imagery! Work your + dominoes (jouer des dominos) is to eat; how can men eat with the police at + their heels? + </p> + <p> + And this language is always growing; it keeps pace with civilization, and + is enriched with some new expression by every fresh invention. The potato, + discovered and introduced by Louis XVI. and Parmentier, was at once dubbed + in French slang as the pig’s orange (Orange a Cochons)[the Irish have + called them bog oranges]. Banknotes are invented; the “mob” at once call + them Flimsies (fafiots garotes, from “Garot,” the name of the cashier + whose signature they bear). Flimsy! (fafiot.) Cannot you hear the rustle + of the thin paper? The thousand franc-note is male flimsy (in French), the + five hundred franc-note is the female; and convicts will, you may be sure, + find some whimsical name for the hundred and two hundred franc-notes. + </p> + <p> + In 1790 Guillotin invented, with humane intent, the expeditious machine + which solved all the difficulties involved in the problem of capital + punishment. Convicts and prisoners from the hulks forthwith investigated + this contrivance, standing as it did on the monarchical borderland of the + old system and the frontier of modern legislation; they instantly gave it + the name of <i>l’Abbaye de Monte-a-Regret</i>. They looked at the angle + formed by the steel blade, and described its action as repeating + (faucher); and when it is remembered that the hulks are called the meadow + (le pre), philologists must admire the inventiveness of these horrible + vocables, as Charles Nodier would have said. + </p> + <p> + The high antiquity of this kind of slang is also noteworthy. A tenth of + the words are of old Romanesque origin, another tenth are the old Gaulish + French of Rabelais. Effondrer, to thrash a man, to give him what for; + otolondrer, to annoy or to “spur” him; cambrioler, doing anything in a + room; aubert, money; Gironde, a beauty (the name of a river of Languedoc); + fouillousse, a pocket—a “cly”—are all French of the fourteenth + and fifteenth centuries. The word affe, meaning life, is of the highest + antiquity. From affe anything that disturbs life is called affres (a + rowing or scolding), hence affreux, anything that troubles life. + </p> + <p> + About a hundred words are derived from the language of Panurge, a name + symbolizing the people, for it is derived from two Greek words signifying + All-working. + </p> + <p> + Science is changing the face of the world by constructing railroads. In + Argot the train is le roulant Vif, the Rattler. + </p> + <p> + The name given to the head while still on the shoulders—la Sorbonne—shows + the antiquity of this dialect which is mentioned by very early + romance-writers, as Cervantes, the Italian story-tellers, and Aretino. In + all ages the moll, the prostitute, the heroine of so many old-world + romances, has been the protectress, companion, and comfort of the sharper, + the thief, the pickpocket, the area-sneak, and the burglar. + </p> + <p> + Prostitution and robbery are the male and female forms of protest made by + the natural state against the social state. Even philosophers, the + innovators of to-day, the humanitarians with the communists and + Fourierists in their train, come at last, without knowing it, to the same + conclusion—prostitution and theft. The thief does not argue out + questions of property, of inheritance, and social responsibility, in + sophistical books; he absolutely ignores them. To him theft is + appropriating his own. He does not discuss marriage; he does not complain + of it; he does not insist, in printed Utopian dreams, on the mutual + consent and bond of souls which can never become general; he pairs with a + vehemence of which the bonds are constantly riveted by the hammer of + necessity. Modern innovators write unctuous theories, long drawn, and + nebulous or philanthropical romances; but the thief acts. He is as clear + as a fact, as logical as a blow; and then his style! + </p> + <p> + Another thing worth noting: the world of prostitutes, thieves, and murders + of the galleys and the prisons forms a population of about sixty to eighty + thousand souls, men and women. Such a world is not to be disdained in a + picture of modern manners and a literary reproduction of the social body. + The law, the gendarmerie, and the police constitute a body almost equal in + number; is not that strange? This antagonism of persons perpetually + seeking and avoiding each other, and fighting a vast and highly dramatic + duel, are what are sketched in this Study. It has been the same thing with + thieving and public harlotry as with the stage, the police, the + priesthood, and the gendarmerie. In these six walks of life the individual + contracts an indelible character. He can no longer be himself. The + stigmata of ordination are as immutable as those of the soldier are. And + it is the same in other callings which are strongly in opposition, strong + contrasts with civilization. These violent, eccentric, singular signs—sui + generis—are what make the harlot, the robber, the murderer, the + ticket-of-leave man, so easily recognizable by their foes, the spy and the + police, to whom they are as game to the sportsman: they have a gait, a + manner, a complexion, a look, a color, a smell—in short, infallible + marks about them. Hence the highly-developed art of disguise which the + heroes of the hulks acquire. + </p> + <p> + One word yet as to the constitution of this world apart, which the + abolition of branding, the mitigation of penalties, and the silly leniency + of furies are making a threatening evil. In about twenty years Paris will + be beleaguered by an army of forty thousand reprieved criminals; the + department of the Seine and its fifteen hundred thousand inhabitants being + the only place in France where these poor wretches can be hidden. To them + Paris is what the virgin forest is to beasts of prey. + </p> + <p> + The swell-mob, or more exactly, the upper class of thieves, which is the + Faubourg Saint-Germain, the aristocracy of the tribe, had, in 1816, after + the peace which made life hard for so many men, formed an association + called les grands fanandels—the Great Pals—consisting of the + most noted master-thieves and certain bold spirits at that time bereft of + any means of living. This word pal means brother, friend, and comrade all + in one. And these “Great Pals,” the cream of the thieving fraternity, for + more than twenty years were the Court of Appeal, the Institute of + Learning, and the Chamber of Peers of this community. These men all had + their private means, with funds in common, and a code of their own. They + knew each other, and were pledged to help and succor each other in + difficulties. And they were all superior to the tricks or snares of the + police, had a charter of their own, passwords and signs of recognition. + </p> + <p> + From 1815 to 1819 these dukes and peers of the prison world had formed the + famous association of the Ten-thousand (see <i>le Pere Goriot</i>), so + styled by reason of an agreement in virtue of which no job was to be + undertaken by which less than ten thousand francs could be got. + </p> + <p> + At that very time, in 1829-30, some memoirs were brought out in which the + collective force of this association and the names of the leaders were + published by a famous member of the police-force. It was terrifying to + find there an army of skilled rogues, male and female; so numerous, so + clever, so constantly lucky, that such thieves as Pastourel, Collonge, or + Chimaux, men of fifty and sixty, were described as outlaws from society + from their earliest years! What a confession of the ineptitude of justice + that rogues so old should be at large! + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin had been the cashier, not only of the “Ten-thousand,” but + also of the “Great Pals,” the heroes of the hulks. Competent authorities + admit that the hulks have always owned large sums. This curious fact is + quite conceivable. Stolen goods are never recovered but in very singular + cases. The condemned criminal, who can take nothing with him, is obliged + to trust somebody’s honesty and capacity, and to deposit his money; as in + the world of honest folks, money is placed in a bank. + </p> + <p> + Long ago Bibi-Lupin, now for ten years a chief of the department of Public + Safety, had been a member of the aristocracy of “Pals.” His treason had + resulted from offended pride; he had been constantly set aside in favor of + <i>Trompe-la-Mort’s</i> superior intelligence and prodigious strength. + Hence his persistent vindictiveness against Jacques Collin. Hence, also, + certain compromises between Bibi-Lupin and his old companions, which the + magistrates were beginning to take seriously. + </p> + <p> + So in his desire for vengeance, to which the examining judge had given + play under the necessity of identifying Jacques Collin, the chief of the + “Safety” had very skilfully chosen his allies by setting la Pouraille, + Fil-de-Soie, and le Biffon on the sham Spaniard—for la Pouraille and + Fil-de-Soie both belonged to the “Ten-thousand,” and le Biffon was a + “Great Pal.” + </p> + <p> + La Biffe, le Biffon’s formidable trip, who to this day evades all the + pursuit of the police by her skill in disguising herself as a lady, was at + liberty. This woman, who successfully apes a marquise, a countess, a + baroness, keeps a carriage and men-servants. This Jacques Collin in + petticoats is the only woman who can compare with Asie, Jacques Collin’s + right hand. And, in fact, every hero of the hulks is backed up by a + devoted woman. Prison records and the secret papers of the law courts will + tell you this; no honest woman’s love, not even that of the bigot for her + spiritual director, has ever been greater than the attachment of a + mistress who shares the dangers of a great criminal. + </p> + <p> + With these men a passion is almost always the first cause of their daring + enterprises and murders. The excessive love which—constitutionally, + as the doctors say—makes woman irresistible to them, calls every + moral and physical force of these powerful natures into action. Hence the + idleness which consumes their days, for excesses of passion necessitate + sleep and restorative food. Hence their loathing of all work, driving + these creatures to have recourse to rapid ways of getting money. And yet, + the need of a living, and of high living, violent as it is, is but a + trifle in comparison with the extravagance to which these generous Medors + are prompted by the mistress to whom they want to give jewels and dress, + and who—always greedy—love rich food. The baggage wants a + shawl, the lover steals it, and the woman sees in this a proof of love. + </p> + <p> + This is how robbery begins; and robbery, if we examine the human soul + through a lens, will be seen to be an almost natural instinct in man. + </p> + <p> + Robbery leads to murder, and murder leads the lover step by step to the + scaffold. + </p> + <p> + Ill-regulated physical desire is therefore, in these men, if we may + believe the medical faculty, at the root of seven-tenths of the crimes + committed. And, indeed, the proof is always found, evident, palpable at + the post-mortem examination of the criminal after his execution. And these + monstrous lovers, the scarecrows of society, are adored by their + mistresses. It is this female devotion, squatting faithfully at the prison + gate, always eagerly balking the cunning of the examiner, and + incorruptibly keeping the darkest secrets which make so many trials + impenetrable mysteries. + </p> + <p> + In this, again, lies the strength as well as the weakness of the accused. + In the vocabulary of a prostitute, to be honest means to break none of the + laws of this attachment, to give all her money to the man who is nabbed, + to look after his comforts, to be faithful to him in every way, to + undertake anything for his sake. The bitterest insult one of these women + can fling in the teeth of another wretched creature is to accuse her of + infidelity to a lover in quod (in prison). In that case such a woman is + considered to have no heart. + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille was passionately in love with a woman, as will be seen. + </p> + <p> + Fil-de-Soie, an egotistical philosopher, who thieved to provide for the + future, was a good deal like Paccard, Jacques Collin’s satellite, who had + fled with Prudence Servien and the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs + between them. He had no attachment, he condemned women, and loved no one + but Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + As to le Biffon, he derived his nickname from his connection with la + Biffe. (La Biffe is scavenging, rag-picking.) And these three + distinguished members of <i>la haute pegre</i>, the aristocracy of + roguery, had a reckoning to demand of Jacques Collin, accounts that were + somewhat hard to bring to book. + </p> + <p> + No one but the cashier could know how many of his clients were still + alive, and what each man’s share would be. The mortality to which the + depositors were peculiarly liable had formed a basis for <i>Trompe-la-Mort’s</i> + calculations when he resolved to embezzle the funds for Lucien’s benefit. + By keeping himself out of the way of the police and of his pals for nine + years, Jacques Collin was almost certain to have fallen heir, by the terms + of the agreement among the associates, to two-thirds of the depositors. + Besides, could he not plead that he had repaid the pals who had been + scragged? In fact, no one had any hold over these <i>Great Pals</i>. His + comrades trusted him by compulsion, for the hunted life led by convicts + necessitates the most delicate confidence between the gentry of this crew + of savages. So Jacques Collin, a defaulter for a hundred thousand crowns, + might now possibly be quit for a hundred thousand francs. At this moment, + as we see, la Pouraille, one of Jacques Collin’s creditors, had but ninety + days to live. And la Pouraille, the possessor of a sum vastly greater, no + doubt, than that placed in his pal’s keeping, would probably prove easy to + deal with. + </p> + <p> + One of the infallible signs by which prison governors and their agents, + the police and warders, recognize old stagers (chevaux de retour), that is + to say, men who have already eaten beans (les gourganes, a kind of + haricots provided for prison fare), is their familiarity with prison ways; + those who have been <i>in</i> before, of course, know the manners and + customs; they are at home, and nothing surprises them. + </p> + <p> + And Jacques Collin, thoroughly on his guard, had, until now, played his + part to admiration as an innocent man and stranger, both at La Force and + at the Conciergerie. But now, broken by grief, and by two deaths—for + he had died twice over during that dreadful night—he was Jacques + Collin once more. The warder was astounded to find that the Spanish priest + needed no telling as to the way to the prison-yard. The perfect actor + forgot his part; he went down the corkscrew stairs in the Tour Bonbec as + one who knew the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + “Bibi-Lupin is right,” said the turnkey to himself; “he is an old stager; + he is Jacques Collin.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment when <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> appeared in the sort of frame to + his figure made by the door into the tower, the prisoners, having made + their purchases at the stone table called after Saint-Louis, were + scattered about the yard, always too small for their number. So the + newcomer was seen by all of them at once, and all the more promptly, + because nothing can compare for keenness with the eye of a prisoner, who + in a prison-yard feels like a spider watching in its web. And this + comparison is mathematically exact; for the range of vision being limited + on all sides by high dark walls, the prisoners can always see, even + without looking at them, the doors through which the warders come and go, + the windows of the parlor, and the stairs of the Tour Bonbec—the + only exits from the yard. In this utter isolation every trivial incident + is an event, everything is interesting; the tedium—a tedium like + that of a tiger in a cage—increases their alertness tenfold. + </p> + <p> + It is necessary to note that Jacques Collin, dressed like a priest who is + not strict as to costume, wore black knee breeches, black stockings, shoes + with silver buckles, a black waistcoat, and a long coat of dark-brown + cloth of a certain cut that betrays the priest whatever he may do, + especially when these details are completed by a characteristic style of + haircutting. Jacques Collin’s wig was eminently ecclesiastical, and + wonderfully natural. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” said la Pouraille to le Biffon, “that’s a bad sign! A rook! + (sanglier, a priest). How did he come here?” + </p> + <p> + “He is one of their ‘narks’” (trucs, spies) “of a new make,” replied + Fil-de-Soie, “some runner with the bracelets” (marchand de lacets—equivalent + to a Bow Street runner) “looking out for his man.” + </p> + <p> + The gendarme boasts of many names in French slang; when he is after a + thief, he is “the man with the bracelets” (marchand de lacets); when he + has him in charge, he is a bird of ill-omen (hirondelle de la Greve); when + he escorts him to the scaffold, he is “groom to the guillotine” (hussard + de la guillotine). + </p> + <p> + To complete our study of the prison-yard, two more of the prisoners must + be hastily sketched in. Selerier, alias l’Auvergnat, alias le Pere + Ralleau, called le Rouleur, alias Fil-de-Soie—he had thirty names, + and as many passports—will henceforth be spoken of by this name + only, as he was called by no other among the swell-mob. This profound + philosopher, who saw a spy in the sham priest, was a brawny fellow of + about five feet eight, whose muscles were all marked by strange bosses. He + had an enormous head in which a pair of half-closed eyes sparkled like + fire—the eyes of a bird of prey, with gray, dull, skinny eyelids. At + first glance his face resembled that of a wolf, his jaws were so broad, + powerful, and prominent; but the cruelty and even ferocity suggested by + this likeness were counterbalanced by the cunning and eagerness of his + face, though it was scarred by the smallpox. The margin of each scar being + sharply cut, gave a sort of wit to his expression; it was seamed with + ironies. The life of a criminal—a life of danger and thirst, of + nights spent bivouacking on the quays and river banks, on bridges and + streets, and the orgies of strong drink by which successes are celebrated—had + laid, as it were, a varnish over these features. Fil-de-Soie, if seen in + his undisguised person, would have been marked by any constable or + gendarme as his prey; but he was a match for Jacques Collin in the arts of + make-up and dress. Just now Fil-de-Soie, in undress, like a great actor + who is well got up only on the stage, wore a sort of shooting jacket + bereft of buttons, and whose ripped button-holes showed the white lining, + squalid green slippers, nankin trousers now a dingy gray, and on his head + a cap without a peak, under which an old bandana was tied, streaky with + rents, and washed out. + </p> + <p> + Le Biffon was a complete contrast to Fil-de-Soie. This famous robber, + short, burly, and fat, but active, with a livid complexion, and deep-set + black eyes, dressed like a cook, standing squarely on very bandy legs, was + alarming to behold, for in his countenance all the features predominated + that are most typical of the carnivorous beast. + </p> + <p> + Fil-de-Soie and le Biffon were always wheedling la Pouraille, who had lost + all hope. The murderer knew that he would be tried, sentenced, and + executed within four months. Indeed, Fil-de-Soie and le Biffon, la + Pouraille’s chums, never called him anything but <i>le Chanoine de + l’Abbaye de Monte-a-Regret</i> (a grim paraphrase for a man condemned to + the guillotine). It is easy to understand why Fil-de-Soie and le Biffon + should fawn on la Pouraille. The man had somewhere hidden two hundred and + fifty thousand francs in gold, his share of the spoil found in the house + of the Crottats, the “victims,” in newspaper phrase. What a splendid + fortune to leave to two pals, though the two old stagers would be sent + back to the galleys within a few days! Le Biffon and Fil-de-Soie would be + sentenced for a term of fifteen years for robbery with violence, without + prejudice to the ten years’ penal servitude on a former sentence, which + they had taken the liberty of cutting short. So, though one had twenty-two + and the other twenty-six years of imprisonment to look forward to, they + both hoped to escape, and come back to find la Pouraille’s mine of gold. + </p> + <p> + But the “Ten-thousand man” kept his secret; he did not see the use of + telling it before he was sentenced. He belonged to the “upper ten” of the + hulks, and had never betrayed his accomplices. His temper was well known; + Monsieur Popinot, who had examined him, had not been able to get anything + out of him. + </p> + <p> + This terrible trio were at the further end of the prison-yard, that is to + say, near the better class of cells. Fil-de-Soie was giving a lecture to a + young man who was IN for his first offence, and who, being certain of ten + years’ penal servitude, was gaining information as to the various convict + establishments. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy,” Fil-de-Soie was saying sententiously as Jacques Collin + appeared on the scene, “the difference between Brest, Toulon, and + Rochefort is——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, old cock?” said the lad, with the curiosity of a novice. + </p> + <p> + This prisoner, a man of good family, accused of forgery, had come down + from the cell next to that where Lucien had been. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” Fil-de-Soie went on, “at Brest you are sure to get some beans at + the third turn if you dip your spoon in the bowl; at Toulon you never get + any till the fifth; and at Rochefort you get none at all, unless you are + an old hand.” + </p> + <p> + Having spoken, the philosopher joined le Biffon and la Pouraille, and all + three, greatly puzzled by the priest, walked down the yard, while Jacques + Collin, lost in grief, came up it. <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, absorbed in + terrible meditations, the meditations of a fallen emperor, did not think + of himself as the centre of observation, the object of general attention, + and he walked slowly, gazing at the fatal window where Lucien had hanged + himself. None of the prisoners knew of this catastrophe, since, for + reasons to be presently explained, the young forger had not mentioned the + subject. The three pals agreed to cross the priest’s path. + </p> + <p> + “He is no priest,” said Fil-de-Soie; “he is an old stager. Look how he + drags his right foot.” + </p> + <p> + It is needful to explain here—for not every reader has had a fancy + to visit the galleys—that each convict is chained to another, an old + one and a young one always as a couple; the weight of this chain riveted + to a ring above the ankle is so great as to induce a limp, which the + convict never loses. Being obliged to exert one leg much more than the + other to drag this fetter (manicle is the slang name for such irons), the + prisoner inevitably gets into the habit of making the effort. Afterwards, + though he no longer wears the chain, it acts upon him still; as a man + still feels an amputated leg, the convict is always conscious of the + anklet, and can never get over that trick of walking. In police slang, he + “drags his right.” And this sign, as well known to convicts among + themselves as it is to the police, even if it does not help to identify a + comrade, at any rate confirms recognition. + </p> + <p> + In <i>Trompe-la Mort</i>, who had escaped eight years since, this trick + had to a great extent worn off; but just now, lost in reflections, he + walked at such a slow and solemn pace that, slight as the limp was, it was + strikingly evident to so practiced an eye as la Pouraille’s. And it is + quite intelligible that convicts, always thrown together, as they must be, + and never having any one else to study, will so thoroughly have watched + each other’s faces and appearance, that certain tricks will have impressed + them which may escape their systematic foes—spies, gendarmes, and + police-inspectors. + </p> + <p> + Thus it was a peculiar twitch of the maxillary muscles of the left cheek, + recognized by a convict who was sent to a review of the Legion of the + Seine, which led to the arrest of the lieutenant-colonel of that corps, + the famous Coignard; for, in spite of Bibi-Lupin’s confidence, the police + could not dare believe that the Comte Pontis de Sainte-Helene and Coignard + were one and the same man. + </p> + <p> + “He is our boss” (dab or master) said Fil-de-Soie, seeing in Jacques + Collin’s eyes the vague glance a man sunk in despair casts on all his + surroundings. + </p> + <p> + “By Jingo! Yes, it is <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>,” said le Biffon, rubbing his + hands. “Yes, it is his cut, his build; but what has he done to himself? He + looks quite different.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what he is up to!” cried Fil-de-Soie; “he has some plan in his + head. He wants to see the boy” (sa tante) “who is to be executed before + long.” + </p> + <p> + The persons known in prison as tantes or aunts may be best described in + the ingenious words of the governor of one of the great prisons to the + late Lord Durham, who, during his stay in Paris, visited every prison. So + curious was he to see every detail of French justice, that he even + persuaded Sanson, at that time the executioner, to erect the scaffold and + decapitate a living calf, that he might thoroughly understand the working + of the machine made famous by the Revolution. The governor having shown + him everything—the yards, the workshops, and the underground cells—pointed + to a part of the building, and said, “I need not take your Lordship there; + it is the quartier des tantes.”—“Oh,” said Lord Durham, “what are + they!”—“The third sex, my Lord.” + </p> + <p> + “And they are going to scrag Theodore!” said la Pouraille, “such a pretty + boy! And such a light hand! such cheek! What a loss to society!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Theodore Calvi is yamming his last meal,” said le Biffon. “His trips + will pipe their eyes, for the little beggar was a great pet.” + </p> + <p> + “So you’re here, old chap?” said la Pouraille to Jacques Collin. And, + arm-in-arm with his two acolytes, he barred the way to the new arrival. + “Why, Boss, have you got yourself japanned?” he went on. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you have nobbled our pile” (stolen our money), le Biffon added, in + a threatening tone. + </p> + <p> + “You have just got to stump up the tin!” said Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + The three questions were fired at him like three pistol-shots. + </p> + <p> + “Do not make game of an unhappy priest sent here by mistake,” Jacques + Collin replied mechanically, recognizing his three comrades. + </p> + <p> + “That is the sound of his pipe, if it is not quite the cut of his mug,” + said la Pouraille, laying his hand on Jacques Collin’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + This action, and the sight of his three chums, startled the “Boss” out of + his dejection, and brought him back to a consciousness of reality; for + during that dreadful night he had lost himself in the infinite spiritual + world of feeling, seeking some new road. + </p> + <p> + “Do not blow the gaff on your Boss!” said Jacques Collin in a hollow + threatening tone, not unlike the low growl of a lion. “The reelers are + here; let them make fools of themselves. I am faking to help a pal who is + awfully down on his luck.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with the unction of a priest trying to convert the wretched, and + a look which flashed round the yard, took in the warders under the + archways, and pointed them out with a wink to his three companions. + </p> + <p> + “Are there not narks about? Keep your peepers open and a sharp lookout. + Don’t know me, Nanty parnarly, and soap me down for a priest, or I will do + for you all, you and your molls and your blunt.” + </p> + <p> + “What, do you funk our blabbing?” said Fil-de-Soie. “Have you come to help + your boy to guy?” + </p> + <p> + “Madeleine is getting ready to be turned off in the Square” (the Place de + Greve), said la Pouraille. + </p> + <p> + “Theodore!” said Jacques Collin, repressing a start and a cry. + </p> + <p> + “They will have his nut off,” la Pouraille went on; “he was booked for the + scaffold two months ago.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin felt sick, his knees almost failed him; but his three + comrades held him up, and he had the presence of mind to clasp his hands + with an expression of contrition. La Pouraille and le Biffon respectfully + supported the sacrilegious <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, while Fil-de-Soie ran to + a warder on guard at the gate leading to the parlor. + </p> + <p> + “That venerable priest wants to sit down; send out a chair for him,” said + he. + </p> + <p> + And so Bibi-Lupin’s plot had failed. + </p> + <p> + <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, like a Napoleon recognized by his soldiers, had won + the submission and respect of the three felons. Two words had done it. + Your molls and your blunt—your women and your money—epitomizing + every true affection of man. This threat was to the three convicts an + indication of supreme power. The Boss still had their fortune in his + hands. Still omnipotent outside the prison, their Boss had not betrayed + them, as the false pals said. + </p> + <p> + Their chief’s immense reputation for skill and inventiveness stimulated + their curiosity; for, in prison, curiosity is the only goad of these + blighted spirits. And Jacques Collin’s daring disguise, kept up even under + the bolts and locks of the Conciergerie, dazzled the three felons. + </p> + <p> + “I have been in close confinement for four days and did not know that + Theodore was so near the Abbaye,” said Jacques Collin. “I came in to save + a poor little chap who scragged himself here yesterday at four o’clock, + and now here is another misfortune. I have not an ace in my hand——” + </p> + <p> + “Poor old boy!” said Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + “Old Scratch has cut me!” cried Jacques Collin, tearing himself free from + his supporters, and drawing himself up with a fierce look. “There comes a + time when the world is too many for us! The beaks gobble us up at last.” + </p> + <p> + The governor of the Conciergerie, informed of the Spanish priest’s weak + state, came himself to the prison-yard to observe him; he made him sit + down on a chair in the sun, studying him with the keen acumen which + increases day by day in the practise of such functions, though hidden + under an appearance of indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Heaven!” cried Jacques Collin. “To be mixed up with such creatures, + the dregs of society—felons and murders!—But God will not + desert His servant! My dear sir, my stay here shall be marked by deeds of + charity which shall live in men’s memories. I will convert these unhappy + creatures, they shall learn they have souls, that life eternal awaits + them, and that though they have lost all on earth, they still may win + heaven—Heaven which they may purchase by true and genuine + repentance.” + </p> + <p> + Twenty or thirty prisoners had gathered in a group behind the three + terrible convicts, whose ferocious looks had kept a space of three feet + between them and their inquisitive companions, and they heard this + address, spoken with evangelical unction. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, Monsieur Gault,” said the formidable la Pouraille, “we will listen to + what this one may say——” + </p> + <p> + “I have been told,” Jacques Collin went on, “that there is in this prison + a man condemned to death.” + </p> + <p> + “The rejection of his appeal is at this moment being read to him,” said + Monsieur Gault. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what that means,” said Jacques Collin, artlessly looking + about him. + </p> + <p> + “Golly, what a flat!” said the young fellow, who, a few minutes since, had + asked Fil-de-Soie about the beans on the hulks. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it means that he is to be scragged to-day or to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Scragged?” asked Jacques Collin, whose air of innocence and ignorance + filled his three pals with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “In their slang,” said the governor, “that means that he will suffer the + penalty of death. If the clerk is reading the appeal, the executioner will + no doubt have orders for the execution. The unhappy man has persistently + refused the offices of the chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Monsieur le Directeaur, this is a soul to save!” cried Jacques + Collin, and the sacrilegious wretch clasped his hands with the expression + of a despairing lover, which to the watchful governor seemed nothing less + than divine fervor. “Ah, monsieur,” <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> went on, “let me + prove to you what I am, and how much I can do, by allowing me to incite + that hardened heart to repentance. God has given me a power of speech + which produces great changes. I crush men’s hearts; I open them.—What + are you afraid of? Send me with an escort of gendarmes, of turnkeys—whom + you will.” + </p> + <p> + “I will inquire whether the prison chaplain will allow you to take his + place,” said Monsieur Gault. + </p> + <p> + And the governor withdrew, struck by the expression, perfectly + indifferent, though inquisitive, with which the convicts and the prisoners + on remand stared at this priest, whose unctuous tones lent a charm to his + half-French, half-Spanish lingo. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come in here, Monsieur l’Abbe?” asked the youth who had + questioned Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by a mistake!” replied Jacques Collin, eyeing the young gentleman + from head to foot. “I was found in the house of a courtesan who had died, + and was immediately robbed. It was proved that she had killed herself, and + the thieves—probably the servants—have not yet been caught.” + </p> + <p> + “And it was for that theft that your young man hanged himself?” + </p> + <p> + “The poor boy, no doubt, could not endure the thought of being blighted by + his unjust imprisonment,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, raising his eyes to + heaven. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said the young man; “they were coming to set him free just when he + had killed himself. What bad luck!” + </p> + <p> + “Only innocent souls can be thus worked on by their imagination,” said + Jacques Collin. “For, observe, he was the loser by the theft.” + </p> + <p> + “How much money was it?” asked Fil-de-Soie, the deep and cunning. + </p> + <p> + “Seven hundred and fifty thousand francs,” said Jacques Collin blandly. + </p> + <p> + The three convicts looked at each other and withdrew from the group that + had gathered round the sham priest. + </p> + <p> + “He screwed the moll’s place himself!” said Fil-de-Soie in a whisper to le + Biffon, “and they want to put us in a blue funk for our cartwheels” + (thunes de balles, five-franc pieces). + </p> + <p> + “He will always be the boss of the swells,” replied la Pouraille. “Our + pieces are safe enough.” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille, wishing to find some man he could trust, had an interest in + considering Jacques Collin an honest man. And in prison, of all places, a + man believes what he hopes. + </p> + <p> + “I lay you anything, he will come round the big Boss and save his chum!” + said Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + “If he does that,” said le Biffon, “though I don’t believe he is really + God, he must certainly have smoked a pipe with old Scratch, as they say.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t you hear him say, ‘Old Scratch has cut me’?” said Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried la Pouraille, “if only he would save my nut, what a time I + would have with my whack of the shiners and the yellow boys I have + stowed.” + </p> + <p> + “Do what he bids you!” said Fil-de Soie. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so?” retorted la Pouraille, looking at his pal. + </p> + <p> + “What a flat you are! You will be booked for the Abbaye!” said le Biffon. + “You have no other door to budge, if you want to keep on your pins, to + yam, wet your whistle, and fake to the end; you must take his orders.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right,” said la Pouraille. “There is not one of us that will + blow the gaff, or if he does, I will take him where I am going——” + </p> + <p> + “And he’ll do it too,” cried Fil-de-Soie. + </p> + <p> + The least sympathetic reader, who has no pity for this strange race, may + conceive of the state of mind of Jacques Collin, finding himself between + the dead body of the idol whom he had been bewailing during five hours + that night, and the imminent end of his former comrade—the dead body + of Theodore, the young Corsican. Only to see the boy would demand + extraordinary cleverness; to save him would need a miracle; but he was + thinking of it. + </p> + <p> + For the better comprehension of what Jacques Collin proposed to attempt, + it must be remarked that murderers and thieves, all the men who people the + galleys, are not so formidable as is generally supposed. With a few rare + exceptions these creatures are all cowards, in consequence no doubt, of + the constant alarms which weigh on their spirit. The faculties being + perpetually on the stretch in thieving, and the success of a stroke of + business depending on the exertion of every vital force, with a readiness + of wit to match their dexterity of hand, and an alertness which exhausts + the nervous system; these violent exertions of will once over, they become + stupid, just as a singer or a dancer drops quite exhausted after a + fatiguing pas seul, or one of those tremendous duets which modern + composers inflict on the public. + </p> + <p> + Malefactors are, in fact, so entirely bereft of common sense, or so much + oppressed by fear, that they become absolutely childish. Credulous to the + last degree, they are caught by the bird-lime of the simplest snare. When + they have done a successful <i>job</i>, they are in such a state of + prostration that they immediately rush into the debaucheries they crave + for; they get drunk on wine and spirits, and throw themselves madly into + the arms of their women to recover composure by dint of exhausting their + strength, and to forget their crime by forgetting their reason. + </p> + <p> + Then they are at the mercy of the police. When once they are in custody + they lose their head, and long for hope so blindly that they believe + anything; indeed, there is nothing too absurd for them to accept it. An + instance will suffice to show how far the simplicity of a criminal who has + been <i>nabbed</i> will carry him. Bibi-Lupin, not long before, had + extracted a confession from a murderer of nineteen by making him believe + that no one under age was ever executed. When this lad was transferred to + the Conciergerie to be sentenced after the rejection of his appeal, this + terrible man came to see him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you are not yet twenty?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am only nineteen and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” replied Bibi-Lupin, “you may be quite sure of one thing—you + will never see twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you will be scragged within three days,” replied the police + agent. + </p> + <p> + The murderer, who had believed, even after sentence was passed, that a + minor would never be executed, collapsed like an omelette soufflee. + </p> + <p> + Such men, cruel only from the necessity for suppressive evidence, for they + murder only to get rid of witnesses (and this is one of the arguments + adduced by those who desire the abrogation of capital punishment),—these + giants of dexterity and skill, whose sleight of hand, whose rapid sight, + whose every sense is as alert as that of a savage, are heroes of evil only + on the stage of their exploits. Not only do their difficulties begin as + soon as the crime is committed, for they are as much bewildered by the + need for concealing the stolen goods as they were depressed by necessity—but + they are as weak as a woman in childbed. The vehemence of their schemes is + terrific; in success they become like children. In a word, their nature is + that of the wild beast—easy to kill when it is full fed. In prison + these strange beings are men in dissimulation and in secretiveness, which + never yields till the last moment, when they are crushed and broken by the + tedium of imprisonment. + </p> + <p> + It may hence be understood how it was that the three convicts, instead of + betraying their chief, were eager to serve him; and as they suspected he + was now the owner of the stolen seven hundred and fifty thousand francs, + they admired him for his calm resignation, under bolt and bar of the + Conciergerie, believing him capable of protecting them all. + </p> + <p> + When Monsieur Gault left the sham priest, he returned through the parlor + to his office, and went in search of Bibi-Lupin, who for twenty minutes, + since Jacques Collin had gone downstairs, had been on the watch with his + eye at a peephole in a window looking out on the prison-yard. + </p> + <p> + “Not one of them recognized him,” said Monsieur Gault, “and Napolitas, who + is on duty, did not hear a word. The poor priest all through the night, in + his deep distress, did not say a word which could imply that his gown + covers Jacques Collin.” + </p> + <p> + “That shows that he is used to prison life,” said the police agent. + </p> + <p> + Napolitas, Bibi-Lupin’s secretary, being unknown to the criminals then in + the Conciergerie, was playing the part of the young gentlemen imprisoned + for forgery. + </p> + <p> + “Well, but he wishes to be allowed to hear the confession of the young + fellow who is sentenced to death,” said the governor. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure! That is our last chance,” cried Bibi-Lupin. “I had forgotten + that. Theodore Calvi, the young Corsican, was the man chained to Jacques + Collin; they say that on the hulks Jacques Collin made him famous pads——” + </p> + <p> + The convicts on the galleys contrive a kind of pad to slip between their + skin and the fetters to deaden the pressure of the iron ring on their + ankles and instep; these pads, made of tow and rags, are known as + patarasses. + </p> + <p> + “Who is warder over the man?” asked Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + “Coeur la Virole.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I will go and make up as a gendarme, and be on the watch; I + shall hear what they say. I will be even with them.” + </p> + <p> + “But if it should be Jacques Collin are you not afraid of his recognizing + you and throttling you?” said the governor to Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + “As a gendarme I shall have my sword,” replied the other; “and, besides, + if he is Jacques Collin, he will never do anything that will risk his + neck; and if he is a priest, I shall be safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have no time to lose,” said Monsieur Gault; “it is half-past + eight. Father Sauteloup has just read the reply to his appeal, and + Monsieur Sanson is waiting in the order room.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is to-day’s job, the ‘widow’s huzzars’” (les hussards de la + veuve, another horrible name for the functionaries of the guillotine) “are + ordered out,” replied Bibi-Lupin. “Still, I cannot wonder that the + prosecutor-general should hesitate; the boy has always declared that he is + innocent, and there is, in my opinion, no conclusive evidence against + him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a thorough Corsican,” said Monsieur Gault; “he has not said a word, + and has held firm all through.” + </p> + <p> + The last words of the governor of the prison summed up the dismal tale of + a man condemned to die. A man cut off from among the living by law belongs + to the Bench. The Bench is paramount; it is answerable to nobody, it obeys + its own conscience. The prison belongs to the Bench, which controls it + absolutely. Poetry has taken possession of this social theme, “the man + condemned to death”—a subject truly apt to strike the imagination! + And poetry has been sublime on it. Prose has no resource but fact; still, + the fact is appalling enough to hold its own against verse. The existence + of a condemned man who has not confessed his crime, or betrayed his + accomplices, is one of fearful torment. This is no case of iron boots, of + water poured into the stomach, or of limbs racked by hideous machinery; it + is hidden and, so to speak, negative torture. The condemned wretch is + given over to himself with a companion whom he cannot but trust. + </p> + <p> + The amiability of modern philanthropy fancies it has understood the + dreadful torment of isolation, but this is a mistake. Since the abolition + of torture, the Bench, in a natural anxiety to reassure the too sensitive + consciences of the jury, had guessed what a terrible auxiliary isolation + would prove to justice in seconding remorse. + </p> + <p> + Solitude is void; and nature has as great a horror of a moral void as she + has of a physical vacuum. Solitude is habitable only to a man of genius + who can people it with ideas, the children of the spiritual world; or to + one who contemplates the works of the Creator, to whom it is bright with + the light of heaven, alive with the breath and voice of God. Excepting for + these two beings—so near to Paradise—solitude is to the mind + what torture is to the body. Between solitude and the torture-chamber + there is all the difference that there is between a nervous malady and a + surgical disease. It is suffering multiplied by infinitude. The body + borders on the infinite through its nerves, as the spirit does through + thought. And, in fact, in the annals of the Paris law courts the criminals + who do not confess can be easily counted. + </p> + <p> + This terrible situation, which in some cases assumes appalling importance—in + politics, for instance, when a dynasty or a state is involved—will + find a place in the HUMAN COMEDY. But here a description of the stone box + in which after the Restoration, the law shut up a man condemned to death + in Paris, may serve to give an idea of the terrors of a felon’s last day + on earth. + </p> + <p> + Before the Revolution of July there was in the Conciergerie, and indeed + there still is, a condemned cell. This room, backing on the governor’s + office, is divided from it by a thick wall in strong masonry, and the + other side of it is formed by a wall seven or eight feet thick, which + supports one end of the immense <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i>. It is entered + through the first door in the long dark passage in which the eye loses + itself when looking from the middle of the vaulted gateway. This + ill-omened room is lighted by a funnel, barred by a formidable grating, + and hardly perceptible on going into the Conciergerie yard, for it has + been pierced in the narrow space between the office window close to the + railing of the gateway, and the place where the office clerk sits—a + den like a cupboard contrived by the architect at the end of the entrance + court. + </p> + <p> + This position accounts for the fact that the room thus enclosed between + four immensely thick walls should have been devoted, when the Conciergerie + was reconstituted, to this terrible and funereal service. Escape is + impossible. The passage, leading to the cells for solitary confinement and + to the women’s quarters, faces the stove where gendarmes and warders are + always collected together. The air-hole, the only outlet to the open air, + is nine feet above the floor, and looks out on the first court, which is + guarded by sentries at the outer gate. No human power can make any + impression on the walls. Besides, a man sentenced to death is at once + secured in a straitwaistcoat, a garment which precludes all use of the + hands; he is chained by one foot to his camp bed, and he has a fellow + prisoner to watch and attend on him. The room is paved with thick flags, + and the light is so dim that it is hard to see anything. + </p> + <p> + It is impossible not to feel chilled to the marrow on going in, even now, + though for sixteen years the cell has never been used, in consequence of + the changes effected in Paris in the treatment of criminals under + sentence. Imagine the guilty man there with his remorse for company, in + silence and darkness, two elements of horror, and you will wonder how he + ever failed to go mad. What a nature must that be whose temper can resist + such treatment, with the added misery of enforced idleness and inaction. + </p> + <p> + And yet Theodore Calvi, a Corsican, now twenty-seven years of age, + muffled, as it were, in a shroud of absolute reserve, had for two months + held out against the effects of this dungeon and the insidious chatter of + the prisoner placed to entrap him. + </p> + <p> + These were the strange circumstances under which the Corsican had been + condemned to death. Though the case is a very curious one, our account of + it must be brief. It is impossible to introduce a long digression at the + climax of a narrative already so much prolonged, since its only interest + is in so far as it concerns Jacques Collin, the vertebral column, so to + speak, which, by its sinister persistency, connects <i>Le Pere Goriot</i> + with <i>Illusions perdues</i>, and <i>Illusions perdues</i> with this + Study. And, indeed, the reader’s imagination will be able to work out the + obscure case which at this moment was causing great uneasiness to the jury + of the sessions, before whom Theodore Calvi had been tried. For a whole + week, since the criminal’s appeal had been rejected by the Supreme Court, + Monsieur de Granville had been worrying himself over the case, and + postponing from day to day the order for carrying out the sentence, so + anxious was he to reassure the jury by announcing that on the threshold of + death the accused had confessed the crime. + </p> + <p> + A poor widow of Nanterre, whose dwelling stood apart from the township, + which is situated in the midst of the infertile plain lying between + Mount-Valerian, Saint-Germain, the hills of Sartrouville, and Argenteuil, + had been murdered and robbed a few days after coming into her share of an + unexpected inheritance. This windfall amounted to three thousand francs, a + dozen silver spoons and forks, a gold watch and chain and some linen. + Instead of depositing the three thousand francs in Paris, as she was + advised by the notary of the wine-merchant who had left it her, the old + woman insisted on keeping it by her. In the first place, she had never + seen so much money of her own, and then she distrusted everybody in every + kind of affairs, as most common and country folk do. After long discussion + with a wine-merchant of Nanterre, a relation of her own and of the + wine-merchant who had left her the money, the widow decided on buying an + annuity, on selling her house at Nanterre, and living in the town of + Saint-Germain. + </p> + <p> + The house she was living in, with a good-sized garden enclosed by a slight + wooden fence, was the poor sort of dwelling usually built by small + landowners in the neighborhood of Paris. It had been hastily constructed, + with no architectural design, of cement and rubble, the materials commonly + used near Paris, where, as at Nanterre, they are extremely abundant, the + ground being everywhere broken by quarries open to the sky. This is the + ordinary hut of the civilized savage. The house consisted of a ground + floor and one floor above, with garrets in the roof. + </p> + <p> + The quarryman, her deceased husband, and the builder of this dwelling, had + put strong iron bars to all the windows; the front door was remarkably + thick. The man knew that he was alone there in the open country—and + what a country! His customers were the principal master-masons in Paris, + so the more important materials for his house, which stood within five + hundred yards of his quarry, had been brought out in his own carts + returning empty. He could choose such as suited him where houses were + pulled down, and got them very cheap. Thus the window frames, the + iron-work, the doors, shutters, and wooden fittings were all derived from + sanctioned pilfering, presents from his customers, and good ones, + carefully chosen. Of two window-frames, he could take the better. + </p> + <p> + The house, entered from a large stable-yard, was screened from the road by + a wall; the gate was of strong iron-railing. Watch-dogs were kept in the + stables, and a little dog indoors at night. There was a garden of more + than two acres behind. + </p> + <p> + His widow, without children, lived here with only a woman servant. The + sale of the quarry had paid off the owner’s debts; he had been dead about + two years. This isolated house was the widow’s sole possession, and she + kept fowls and cows, selling the eggs and milk at Nanterre. Having no + stableboy or carter or quarryman—her husband had made them do every + kind of work—she no longer kept up the garden; she only gathered the + few greens and roots that the stony ground allowed to grow self-sown. + </p> + <p> + The price of the house, with the money she had inherited, would amount to + seven or eight thousand francs, and she could fancy herself living very + happily at Saint-Germain on seven or eight hundred francs a year, which + she thought she could buy with her eight thousand francs. She had had many + discussions over this with the notary at Saint-Germain, for she refused to + hand her money over for an annuity to the wine-merchant at Nanterre, who + was anxious to have it. + </p> + <p> + Under these circumstances, then, after a certain day the widow Pigeau and + her servant were seen no more. The front gate, the house door, the + shutters, all were closed. At the end of three days, the police, being + informed, made inquisition. Monsieur Popinot, the examining judge, and the + public prosecutor arrived from Paris, and this was what they reported:— + </p> + <p> + Neither the outer gate nor the front door showed any marks of violence. + The key was in the lock of the door, inside. Not a single bar had been + wretched; the locks, shutters, and bolts were all untampered with. The + walls showed no traces that could betray the passage of the criminals. The + chimney-posts, of red clay, afforded no opportunity for ingress or escape, + and the roofing was sound and unbroken, showing no damage by violence. + </p> + <p> + On entering the first-floor rooms, the magistrates, the gendarmes, and + Bibi-Lupin found the widow Pigeau strangled in her bed and the woman + strangled in hers, each by means of the bandana she wore as a nightcap. + The three thousand francs were gone, with the silver-plate and the + trinkets. The two bodies were decomposing, as were those of the little dog + and of a large yard-dog. + </p> + <p> + The wooden palings of the garden were examined; none were broken. The + garden paths showed no trace of footsteps. The magistrate thought it + probable that the robber had walked on the grass to leave no foot-prints + if he had come that way; but how could he have got into the house? The + back door to the garden had an outer guard of three iron bars, uninjured; + and there, too, the key was in the lock inside, as in the front door. + </p> + <p> + All these impossibilities having been duly noted by Monsieur Popinot, by + Bibi-Lupin, who stayed there a day to examine every detail, by the public + prosecutor himself, and by the sergeant of the gendarmerie at Nanterre, + this murder became an agitating mystery, in which the Law and the Police + were nonplussed. + </p> + <p> + This drama, published in the <i>Gazette des Tribunaux</i>, took place in + the winter of 1828-29. God alone knows what excitement this puzzling crime + occasioned in Paris! But Paris has a new drama to watch every morning, and + forgets everything. The police, on the contrary, forgets nothing. + </p> + <p> + Three months after this fruitless inquiry, a girl of the town, whose + extravagance had invited the attention of Bibi-Lupin’s agents, who watched + her as being the ally of several thieves, tried to persuade a woman she + knew to pledge twelve silver spoons and forks and a gold watch and chain. + The friend refused. This came to Bibi-Lupin’s ears, and he remembered the + plate and the watch and chain stolen at Nanterre. The commissioners of the + Mont-de-Piete, and all the receivers of stolen goods, were warned, while + Manon la Blonde was subjected to unremitting scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + It was very soon discovered that Manon la Blonde was madly in love with a + young man who was never to be seen, and was supposed to be deaf to all the + fair Manon’s proofs of devotion. Mystery on mystery. However, this youth, + under the diligent attentions of police spies, was soon seen and + identified as an escaped convict, the famous hero of the Corsican + vendetta, the handsome Theodore Calvi, known as Madeleine. + </p> + <p> + A man was turned on to entrap Calvi, one of those double-dealing buyers of + stolen goods who serve the thieves and the police both at once; he + promised to purchase the silver and the watch and chain. At the moment + when the dealer of the Cour Saint-Guillaume was counting out the cash to + Theodore, dressed as a woman, at half-past six in the evening, the police + came in and seized Theodore and the property. + </p> + <p> + The inquiry was at once begun. On such thin evidence it was impossible to + pass a sentence of death. Calvi never swerved, he never contradicted + himself. He said that a country woman had sold him these objects at + Argenteuil; that after buying them, the excitement over the murder + committed at Nanterre had shown him the danger of keeping this plate and + watch and chain in his possession, since, in fact, they were proved by the + inventory made after the death of the wine merchant, the widow Pigeau’s + uncle, to be those that were stolen from her. Compelled at last by poverty + to sell them, he said he wished to dispose of them by the intervention of + a person to whom no suspicion could attach. + </p> + <p> + And nothing else could be extracted from the convict, who, by his + taciturnity and firmness, contrived to insinuate that the wine-merchant at + Nanterre had committed the crime, and that the woman of whom he, Theodore, + had bought them was the wine-merchant’s wife. The unhappy man and his wife + were both taken into custody; but, after a week’s imprisonment, it was + amply proved that neither the husband nor the wife had been out of their + house at the time. Also, Calvi failed to recognize in the wife the woman + who, as he declared, had sold him the things. + </p> + <p> + As it was shown that Calvi’s mistress, implicated in the case, had spent + about a thousand francs since the date of the crime and the day when Calvi + tried to pledge the plate and trinkets, the evidence seemed strong enough + to commit Calvi and the girl for trial. This murder being the eighteenth + which Theodore had committed, he was condemned to death for he seemed + certainly to be guilty of this skilfully contrived crime. Though he did + not recognize the wine-merchant’s wife, both she and her husband + recognized him. The inquiry had proved, by the evidence of several + witnesses, that Theodore had been living at Nanterre for about a month; he + had worked at a mason’s, his face whitened with plaster, and his clothes + very shabby. At Nanterre the lad was supposed to be about eighteen years + old, for the whole month he must have been nursing that brat (nourri ce + poupon, i.e. hatching the crime). + </p> + <p> + The lawyers thought he must have had accomplices. The chimney-pots were + measured and compared with the size of Manon la Blonde’s body to see if + she could have got in that way; but a child of six could not have passed + up or down those red-clay pipes, which, in modern buildings, take the + place of the vast chimneys of old-fashioned houses. But for this singular + and annoying difficulty, Theodore would have been executed within a week. + The prison chaplain, it has been seen, could make nothing of him. + </p> + <p> + All this business, and the name of Calvi, must have escaped the notice of + Jacques Collin, who, at the time, was absorbed in his single-handed + struggle with Contenson, Corentin, and Peyrade. It had indeed been a point + with <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> to forget as far as possible his chums and all + that had to do with the law courts; he dreaded a meeting which should + bring him face to face with a pal who might demand an account of his boss + which Collin could not possibly render. + </p> + <p> + The governor of the prison went forthwith to the public prosecutor’s + court, where he found the Attorney-General in conversation with Monsieur + de Granville, who had spent the whole night at the Hotel de Serizy, was, + in consequence of this important case, obliged to give a few hours to his + duties, though overwhelmed with fatigue and grief; for the physicians + could not yet promise that the Countess would recover her sanity. + </p> + <p> + After speaking a few words to the governor, Monsieur de Granville took the + warrant from the attorney and placed it in Gault’s hands. + </p> + <p> + “Let the matter proceed,” said he, “unless some extraordinary + circumstances should arise. Of this you must judge. I trust to your + judgment. The scaffold need not be erected till half-past ten, so you + still have an hour. On such an occasion hours are centuries, and many + things may happen in a century. Do not allow him to think he is reprieved; + prepare the man for execution if necessary; and if nothing comes of that, + give Sanson the warrant at half-past nine. Let him wait!” + </p> + <p> + As the governor of the prison left the public prosecutor’s room, under the + archway of the passage into the hall he met Monsieur Camusot, who was + going there. He exchanged a few hurried words with the examining judge; + and after telling him what had been done at the Conciergerie with regard + to Jacques Collin, he went on to witness the meeting of <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> + and Madeleine; and he did not allow the so-called priest to see the + condemned criminal till Bibi-Lupin, admirably disguised as a gendarme, had + taken the place of the prisoner left in charge of the young Corsican. + </p> + <p> + No words can describe the amazement of the three convicts when a warder + came to fetch Jacques Collin and led him to the condemned cell! With one + consent they rushed up to the chair on which Jacques Collin was sitting. + </p> + <p> + “To-day, isn’t it, monsieur?” asked Fil-de-Soie of the warder. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Jack Ketch is waiting,” said the man with perfect indifference. + </p> + <p> + Charlot is the name by which the executioner is known to the populace and + the prison world in Paris. The nickname dates from the Revolution of 1789. + </p> + <p> + The words produced a great sensation. The prisoners looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “It is all over with him,” the warder went on; “the warrant has been + delivered to Monsieur Gault, and the sentence has just been read to him.” + </p> + <p> + “And so the fair Madeleine has received the last sacraments?” said la + Pouraille, and he swallowed a deep mouthful of air. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little Theodore!” cried le Biffon; “he is a pretty chap too. What a + pity to drop your nut” (eternuer dans le son) “so young.” + </p> + <p> + The warder went towards the gate, thinking that Jacques Collin was at his + heels. But the Spaniard walked very slowly, and when he was getting near + to Julien he tottered and signed to la Pouraille to give him his arm. + </p> + <p> + “He is a murderer,” said Napolitas to the priest, pointing to la + Pouraille, and offering his own arm. + </p> + <p> + “No, to me he is an unhappy wretch!” replied Jacques Collin, with the + presence of mind and the unction of the Archbishop of Cambrai. And he drew + away from Napolitas, of whom he had been very suspicious from the first. + Then he said to his pals in an undertone: + </p> + <p> + “He is on the bottom step of the Abbaye de Monte-a-Regret, but I am the + Prior! I will show you how well I know how to come round the beaks. I mean + to snatch this boy’s nut from their jaws.” + </p> + <p> + “For the sake of his breeches!” said Fil-de-Soie with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to win his soul to heaven!” replied Jacques Collin fervently, + seeing some other prisoners about him. And he joined the warder at the + gate. + </p> + <p> + “He got in to save Madeleine,” said Fil-de-Soie. “We guessed rightly. What + a boss he is!” + </p> + <p> + “But how can he? Jack Ketch’s men are waiting. He will not even see the + kid,” objected le Biffon. + </p> + <p> + “The devil is on his side!” cried la Pouraille. “He claim our blunt! + Never! He is too fond of his old chums! We are too useful to him! They + wanted to make us blow the gaff, but we are not such flats! If he saves + his Madeleine, I will tell him all my secrets.” + </p> + <p> + The effect of this speech was to increase the devotion of the three + convicts to their boss; for at this moment he was all their hope. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, in spite of Madeleine’s peril, did not forget to play his + part. Though he knew the Conciergerie as well as he knew the hulks in the + three ports, he blundered so naturally that the warder had to tell him, + “This way, that way,” till they reached the office. There, at a glance, + Jacques Collin recognized a tall, stout man leaning on the stove, with a + long, red face not without distinction: it was Sanson. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is the chaplain?” said he, going towards him with simple + cordiality. + </p> + <p> + The mistake was so shocking that it froze the bystanders. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur,” said Sanson; “I have other functions.” + </p> + <p> + Sanson, the father of the last executioner of that name—for he has + recently been dismissed—was the son of the man who beheaded Louis + XVI. After four centuries of hereditary office, this descendant of so many + executioners had tried to repudiate the traditional burden. The Sansons + were for two hundred years executioners at Rouen before being promoted to + the first rank in the kingdom, and had carried out the decrees of justice + from father to son since the thirteenth century. Few families can boast of + an office or of nobility handed down in a direct line during six + centuries. + </p> + <p> + This young man had been captain in a cavalry regiment, and was looking + forward to a brilliant military career, when his father insisted on his + help in decapitating the king. Then he made his son his deputy when, in + 1793, two guillotines were in constant work—one at the Barriere du + Trone, and the other in the Place de Greve. This terrible functionary, now + a man of about sixty, was remarkable for his dignified air, his gentle and + deliberate manners, and his entire contempt for Bibi-Lupin and his + acolytes who fed the machine. The only detail which betrayed the blood of + the mediaeval executioner was the formidable breadth and thickness of his + hands. Well informed too, caring greatly for his position as a citizen and + an elector, and an enthusiastic florist, this tall, brawny man with his + low voice, his calm reserve, his few words, and a high bald forehead, was + like an English nobleman rather than an executioner. And a Spanish priest + would certainly have fallen into the mistake which Jacques Collin had + intentionally made. + </p> + <p> + “He is no convict!” said the head warder to the governor. + </p> + <p> + “I begin to think so too,” replied Monsieur Gault, with a nod to that + official. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin was led to the cellar-like room where Theodore Calvi, in a + straitwaistcoat, was sitting on the edge of the wretched camp bed. <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, + under a transient gleam of light from the passage, at once recognized + Bibi-Lupin in the gendarme who stood leaning on his sword. + </p> + <p> + “Io sono Gaba-Morto. Parla nostro Italiano,” said Jacques Collin very + rapidly. “Vengo ti salvar.” + </p> + <p> + “I am <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. Talk our Italian. I have come to save you.” + </p> + <p> + All the two chums wanted to say had, of course, to be incomprehensible to + the pretended gendarme; and as Bibi-Lupin was left in charge of the + prisoner, he could not leave his post. The man’s fury was quite + indescribable. + </p> + <p> + Theodore Calvi, a young man with a pale olive complexion, light hair, and + hollow, dull, blue eyes, well built, hiding prodigious strength under the + lymphatic appearance that is not uncommon in Southerners, would have had a + charming face but for the strongly-arched eyebrows and low forehead that + gave him a sinister expression, scarlet lips of savage cruelty, and a + twitching of the muscles peculiar to Corsicans, denoting that excessive + irritability which makes them so prompt to kill in any sudden squabble. + </p> + <p> + Theodore, startled at the sound of that voice, raised his head, and at + first thought himself the victim of a delusion; but as the experience of + two months had accustomed him to the darkness of this stone box, he looked + at the sham priest, and sighed deeply. He did not recognize Jacques + Collin, whose face, scarred by the application of sulphuric acid, was not + that of his old boss. + </p> + <p> + “It is really your Jacques; I am your confessor, and have come to get you + off. Do not be such a ninny as to know me; and speak as if you were making + a confession.” He spoke with the utmost rapidity. “This young fellow is + very much depressed; he is afraid to die, he will confess everything,” + said Jacques Collin, addressing the gendarme. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin dared not say a word for fear of being recognized. + </p> + <p> + “Say something to show me that you are he; you have nothing but his + voice,” said Theodore. + </p> + <p> + “You see, poor boy, he assures me that he is innocent,” said Jacques + Collin to Bibi-Lupin, who dared not speak for fear of being recognized. + </p> + <p> + “Sempre mi,” said Jacques, returning close to Theodore, and speaking the + word in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Sempre ti,” replied Theodore, giving the countersign. “Yes, you are the + boss——” + </p> + <p> + “Did you do the trick?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me the whole story, that I may see what can be done to save you; + make haste, Jack Ketch is waiting.” + </p> + <p> + The Corsican at once knelt down and pretended to be about to confess. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin did not know what to do, for the conversation was so rapid that + it hardly took as much time as it does to read it. Theodore hastily told + all the details of the crime, of which Jacques Collin knew nothing. + </p> + <p> + “The jury gave their verdict without proof,” he said finally. + </p> + <p> + “Child! you want to argue when they are waiting to cut off your hair——” + </p> + <p> + “But I might have been sent to spout the wedge.—And that is the way + they judge you!—and in Paris too!” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you do the job?” asked <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! there you are.—Since I saw you I made acquaintance with a girl, + a Corsican, I met when I came to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Men who are such fools as to love a woman,” cried Jacques Collin, “always + come to grief that way. They are tigers on the loose, tigers who blab and + look at themselves in the glass.—You were a gaby.” + </p> + <p> + “But——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what good did she do you—that curse of a moll?” + </p> + <p> + “That duck of a girl—no taller than a bundle of firewood, as + slippery as an eel, and as nimble as a monkey—got in at the top of + the oven, and opened the front door. The dogs were well crammed with + balls, and as dead as herrings. I settled the two women. Then when I got + the swag, Ginetta locked the door and got out again by the oven.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a clever dodge deserves life,” said Jacques Collin, admiring the + execution of the crime as a sculptor admires the modeling of a figure. + </p> + <p> + “And I was fool enough to waste all that cleverness for a thousand + crowns!” + </p> + <p> + “No, for a woman,” replied Jacques Collin. “I tell you, they deprive us of + all our wits,” and Jacques Collin eyed Theodore with a flashing glance of + contempt. + </p> + <p> + “But you were not there!” said the Corsican; “I was all alone——” + </p> + <p> + “And do you love the slut?” asked Jacques Collin, feeling that the + reproach was a just one. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I want to live, but it is for you now rather than for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Be quite easy, I am not called <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> for nothing. I + undertake the case.” + </p> + <p> + “What! life?” cried the lad, lifting his swaddled hands towards the damp + vault of the cell. + </p> + <p> + “My little Madeleine, prepare to be lagged for life (penal servitude),” + replied Jacques Collin. “You can expect no less; they won’t crown you with + roses like a fatted ox. When they first set us down for Rochefort, it was + because they wanted to be rid of us! But if I can get you ticketed for + Toulon, you can get out and come back to Pantin (Paris), where I will find + you a tidy way of living.” + </p> + <p> + A sigh such as had rarely been heard under that inexorable roof struck the + stones, which sent back the sound that has no fellow in music, to the ear + of the astounded Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + “It is the effect of the absolution I promised him in return for his + revelations,” said Jacques Collin to the gendarme. “These Corsicans, + monsieur, are full of faith! But he is as innocent as the Immaculate Babe, + and I mean to try to save him.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Monsieur l’Abbe!” said Theodore in French. + </p> + <p> + <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, more Carlos Herrera, more the canon than ever, left + the condemned cell, rushed back to the hall, and appeared before Monsieur + Gault in affected horror. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir, the young man is innocent; he has told me who the guilty + person is! He was ready to die for a false point of honor—he is a + Corsican! Go and beg the public prosecutor to grant me five minutes’ + interview. Monsieur de Granville cannot refuse to listen at once to a + Spanish priest who is suffering so cruelly from the blunders of the French + police.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” said Monsieur Gault, to the extreme astonishment of all the + witnesses of this extraordinary scene. + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile,” said Jacques, “send me back to the prison-yard where I + may finish the conversion of a criminal whose heart I have touched already—they + have hearts, these people!” + </p> + <p> + This speech produced a sensation in all who heard it. The gendarmes, the + registry clerk, Sanson, the warders, the executioner’s assistant—all + awaiting orders to go and get the scaffold ready—to rig up the + machine, in prison slang—all these people, usually so indifferent, + were agitated by very natural curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Just then the rattle of a carriage with high-stepping horses was heard; it + stopped very suggestively at the gate of the Conciergerie on the quay. The + door was opened, and the step let down in such haste, that every one + supposed that some great personage had arrived. Presently a lady waving a + sheet of blue paper came forward to the outer gate of the prison, followed + by a footman and a chasseur. Dressed very handsomely, and all in black, + with a veil over her bonnet, she was wiping her eyes with a floridly + embroidered handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin at once recognized Asie, or, to give the woman her true + name, Jacqueline Collin, his aunt. This horrible old woman—worthy of + her nephew—whose thoughts were all centered in the prisoner, and who + was defending him with intelligence and mother-wit that were a match for + the powers of the law, had a permit made out the evening before in the + name of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse’s waiting-maid by the request of + Monsieur de Serizy, allowing her to see Lucien de Rubempre, and the Abbe + Carlos Herrera so soon as he should be brought out of the secret cells. On + this the Colonel, who was the Governor-in-Chief of all the prisons had + written a few words, and the mere color of the paper revealed powerful + influences; for these permits, like theatre-tickets, differ in shape and + appearance. + </p> + <p> + So the turnkey hastened to open the gate, especially when he saw the + chasseur with his plumes and an uniform of green and gold as dazzling as a + Russian General’s, proclaiming a lady of aristocratic rank and almost + royal birth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear Abbe!” exclaimed this fine lady, shedding a torrent of tears + at the sight of the priest, “how could any one ever think of putting such + a saintly man in here, even by mistake?” + </p> + <p> + The Governor took the permit and read, “Introduced by His Excellency the + Comte de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Madame de San-Esteban, Madame la Marquise,” cried Carlos Herrera, + “what admirable devotion!” + </p> + <p> + “But, madame, such interviews are against the rules,” said the good old + Governor. And he intercepted the advance of this bale of black + watered-silk and lace. + </p> + <p> + “But at such a distance!” said Jacques Collin, “and in your presence——” + and he looked round at the group. + </p> + <p> + His aunt, whose dress might well dazzle the clerk, the Governor, the + warders, and the gendarmes, stank of musk. She had on, besides a thousand + crowns of lace, a black India cashmere shawl, worth six thousand francs. + And her chasseur was marching up and down outside with the insolence of a + lackey who knows that he is essential to an exacting princess. He spoke + never a word to the footman, who stood by the gate on the quay, which is + always open by day. + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish? What can I do?” said Madame de San-Esteban in the lingo + agreed upon by this aunt and nephew. + </p> + <p> + This dialect consisted in adding terminations in ar or in or, or in al or + in i to every word, whether French or slang, so as to disguise it by + lengthening it. It was a diplomatic cipher adapted to speech. + </p> + <p> + “Put all the letters in some safe place; take out those that are most + likely to compromise the ladies; come back, dressed very poorly, to the <i>Salle + des Pas-Perdus</i>, and wait for my orders.” + </p> + <p> + Asie, otherwise Jacqueline, knelt as if to receive his blessing, and the + sham priest blessed his aunt with evengelical unction. + </p> + <p> + “Addio, Marchesa,” said he aloud. “And,” he added in their private + language, “find Europe and Paccard with the seven hundred and fifty + thousand francs they bagged. We must have them.” + </p> + <p> + “Paccard is out there,” said the pious Marquise, pointing to the chasseur, + her eyes full of tears. + </p> + <p> + This intuitive comprehension brought not merely a smile to the man’s lips, + but a gesture of surprise; no one could astonish him but his aunt. The + sham Marquise turned to the bystanders with the air of a woman accustomed + to give herself airs. + </p> + <p> + “He is in despair at being unable to attend his son’s funeral,” said she + in broken French, “for this monstrous miscarriage of justice has betrayed + the saintly man’s secret.—I am going to the funeral mass.—Here, + monsieur,” she added to the Governor, handing him a purse of gold, “this + is to give your poor prisoners some comforts.” + </p> + <p> + “What slap-up style!” her nephew whispered in approval. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin then followed the warder, who led him back to the yard. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin, quite desperate, had at last caught the eye of a real + gendarme, to whom, since Jacques Collin had gone, he had been addressing + significant “Ahems,” and who took his place on guard in the condemned + cell. But <i>Trompe-la-Mort’s</i> sworn foe was released too late to see + the great lady, who drove off in her dashing turn-out, and whose voice, + though disguised, fell on his ear with a vicious twang. + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred shiners for the boarders,” said the head warder, showing + Bibi-Lupin the purse, which Monsieur Gault had handed over to his clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s see, Monsieur Jacomety,” said Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + The police agent took the purse, poured out the money into his hand, and + examined it curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is gold, sure enough!” said he, “and a coat-of-arms on the purse! + The scoundrel! How clever he is! What an all-round villain! He does us all + brown——and all the time! He ought to be shot down like a dog!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what’s the matter?” asked the clerk, taking back the money. + </p> + <p> + “The matter! Why, the hussy stole it!” cried Bibi-Lupin, stamping with + rage on the flags of the gateway. + </p> + <p> + The words produced a great sensation among the spectators, who were + standing at a little distance from Monsieur Sanson. He, too, was still + standing, his back against the large stove in the middle of the vaulted + hall, awaiting the order to crop the felon’s hair and erect the scaffold + on the Place de Greve. + </p> + <p> + On re-entering the yard, Jacques Collin went towards his chums at a pace + suited to a frequenter of the galleys. + </p> + <p> + “What have you on your mind?” said he to la Pouraille. + </p> + <p> + “My game is up,” said the man, whom Jacques Collin led into a corner. + “What I want now is a pal I can trust.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille, after telling the tale of all his crimes, but in thieves’ + slang, gave an account of the murder and robbery of the two Crottats. + </p> + <p> + “You have my respect,” said Jacques Collin. “The job was well done; but + you seem to me to have blundered afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, having done the trick, you ought to have had a Russian passport, + have made up as a Russian prince, bought a fine coach with a coat-of-arms + on it, have boldly deposited your money in a bank, have got a letter of + credit on Hamburg, and then have set out posting to Hamburg with a valet, + a ladies’ maid, and your mistress disguised as a Russian princess. At + Hamburg you should have sailed for Mexico. A chap of spirit, with two + hundred and eighty thousand francs in gold, ought to be able to do what he + pleases and go where he pleases, flathead!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, you have such notions because you are the boss. Your nut is + always square on your shoulders—but I——” + </p> + <p> + “In short, a word of good advice in your position is like broth to a dead + man,” said Jacques Collin, with a serpentlike gaze at his old pal. + </p> + <p> + “True enough!” said la Pouraille, looking dubious. “But give me the broth, + all the same. If it does not suit my stomach, I can warm my feet in it——” + </p> + <p> + “Here you are nabbed by the Justice, with five robberies and three + murders, the latest of them those of two rich and respectable folks.... + Now, juries do not like to see respectable folks killed. You will be put + through the machine, and there is not a chance for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard all that,” said la Pouraille lamentably. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt Jacqueline, with whom I have just exchanged a few words in the + office, and who is, as you know, a mother to the pals, told me that the + authorities mean to be quit of you; they are so much afraid of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am rich now,” said La Pouraille, with a simplicity which showed how + convinced a thief is of his natural right to steal. “What are they afraid + of?” + </p> + <p> + “We have no time for philosophizing,” said Jacques Collin. “To come back + to you——” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want with me?” said la Pouraille, interrupting his boss. + </p> + <p> + “You shall see. A dead dog is still worth something.” + </p> + <p> + “To other people,” said la Pouraille. + </p> + <p> + “I take you into my game!” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is something,” said the murderer. “What next?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not ask you where your money is, but what you mean to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille looked into the convict’s impenetrable eye, and Jacques + coldly went on: “Have you a trip you are sweet upon, or a child, or a pal + to be helped? I shall be outside within an hour, and I can do much for any + one you want to be good-natured to.” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille still hesitated; he was delaying with indecision. Jacques + Collin produced a clinching argument. + </p> + <p> + “Your whack of our money would be thirty thousand francs. Do you leave it + to the pals? Do you bequeath it to anybody? Your share is safe; I can give + it this evening to any one you leave it to.” + </p> + <p> + The murderer gave a little start of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “I have him!” said Jacques Collin to himself. “But we have no time to + play. Consider,” he went on in la Pouraille’s ear, “we have not ten + minutes to spare, old chap; the public prosecutor is to send for me, and I + am to have a talk with him. I have him safe, and can ring the old boss’ + neck. I am certain I shall save Madeleine.” + </p> + <p> + “If you save Madeleine, my good boss, you can just as easily——” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t waste your spittle,” said Jacques Collin shortly. “Make your will.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—I want to leave the money to la Gonore,” replied la + Pouraille piteously. + </p> + <p> + “What! Are you living with Moses’ widow—the Jew who led the + swindling gang in the South?” asked Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + For <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, like a great general, knew the person of every + one of his army. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the woman,” said la Pouraille, much flattered. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty woman,” said Jacques Collin, who knew exactly how to manage his + dreadful tools. “The moll is a beauty; she is well informed, and stands by + her mates, and a first-rate hand. Yes, la Gonore has made a new man of + you! What a flat you must be to risk your nut when you have a trip like + her at home! You noodle; you should have set up some respectable little + shop and lived quietly.—And what does she do?” + </p> + <p> + “She is settled in the Rue Sainte-Barbe, managing a house——” + </p> + <p> + “And she is to be your legatee? Ah, my dear boy, this is what such sluts + bring us to when we are such fools as to love them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but don’t you give her anything till I am done for.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a sacred trust,” said Jacques Collin very seriously. + </p> + <p> + “And nothing to the pals?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing! They blowed the gaff for me,” answered la Pouraille + vindictively. + </p> + <p> + “Who did? Shall I serve ‘em out?” asked Jacques Collin eagerly, trying to + rouse the last sentiment that survives in these souls till the last hour. + “Who knows, old pal, but I might at the same time do them a bad turn and + serve you with the public prosecutor?” + </p> + <p> + The murderer looked at his boss with amazed satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “At this moment,” the boss replied to this expressive look, “I am playing + the game only for Theodore. When this farce is played out, old boy, I + might do wonders for a chum—for you are a chum of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “If I see that you really can put off the engagement for that poor little + Theodore, I will do anything you choose—there!” + </p> + <p> + “But the trick is done. I am sure to save his head. If you want to get out + of the scrape, you see, la Pouraille, you must be ready to do a good turn—we + can do nothing single-handed——” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true,” said the felon. + </p> + <p> + His confidence was so strong, and his faith in the boss so fanatical, that + he no longer hesitated. La Pouraille revealed the names of his + accomplices, a secret hitherto well kept. This was all Jacques needed to + know. + </p> + <p> + “That is the whole story. Ruffard was the third in the job with me and + Godet——” + </p> + <p> + “Arrache-Laine?” cried Jacques Collin, giving Ruffard his nickname among + the gang. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the man.—And the blackguards peached because I knew where + they had hidden their whack, and they did not know where mine was.” + </p> + <p> + “You are making it all easy, my cherub!” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied the master, “you see how wise it is to trust me entirely. + Your revenge is now part of the hand I am playing.—I do not ask you + to tell me where the dibs are, you can tell me at the last moment; but + tell me all about Ruffard and Godet.” + </p> + <p> + “You are, and you always will be, our boss; I have no secrets from you,” + replied la Pouraille. “My money is in the cellar at la Gonore’s.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are not afraid of her telling?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, get along! She knows nothing about my little game!” replied la + Pouraille. “I make her drunk, though she is of the sort that would never + blab even with her head under the knife.—But such a lot of gold——!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that turns the milk of the purest conscience,” replied Jacques + Collin. + </p> + <p> + “So I could do the job with no peepers to spy me. All the chickens were + gone to roost. The shiners are three feet underground behind some + wine-bottles. And I spread some stones and mortar over them.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Jacques Collin. “And the others?” + </p> + <p> + “Ruffard’s pieces are with la Gonore in the poor woman’s bedroom, and he + has her tight by that, for she might be nabbed as accessory after the + fact, and end her days in Saint-Lazare.” + </p> + <p> + “The villain! The reelers teach a thief what’s what,” said Jacques. + </p> + <p> + “Godet left his pieces at his sister’s, a washerwoman; honest girl, she + may be caught for five years in La Force without dreaming of it. The pal + raised the tiles of the floor, put them back again, and guyed.” + </p> + <p> + “Now do you know what I want you to do?” said Jacques Collin, with a + magnetizing gaze at la Pouraille. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to take Madeleine’s job on your shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille started queerly; but he at once recovered himself and stood + at attention under the boss’ eye. + </p> + <p> + “So you shy at that? You dare to spoil my game? Come, now! Four murders or + three. Does it not come to the same thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “By the God of good-fellowship, there is no blood in your veins! And I was + thinking of saving you!” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Idiot, if we promise to give the money back to the family, you will only + be lagged for life. I would not give a piece for your nut if we keep the + blunt, but at this moment you are worth seven hundred thousand francs, you + flat.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for you, boss!” cried la Pouraille in great glee. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” said Jacques Collin, “besides casting all the murders on + Ruffard—Bibi-Lupin will be finely cold. I have him this time.” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille was speechless at this suggestion; his eyes grew round, and + he stood like an image. + </p> + <p> + He had been three months in custody, and was committed for trial, and his + chums at La Force, to whom he had never mentioned his accomplices, had + given him such small comfort, that he was entirely hopeless after his + examination, and this simple expedient had been quite overlooked by these + prison-ridden minds. This semblance of a hope almost stupefied his brain. + </p> + <p> + “Have Ruffard and Godet had their spree yet? Have they forked out any of + the yellow boys?” asked Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “They dare not,” replied la Pouraille. “The wretches are waiting till I am + turned off. That is what my moll sent me word by la Biffe when she came to + see le Biffon.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; we will have their whack of money in twenty-four hours,” said + Jacques Collin. “Then the blackguards cannot pay up, as you will; you will + come out as white as snow, and they will be red with all that blood! By my + kind offices you will seem a good sort of fellow led away by them. I shall + have money enough of yours to prove alibis on the other counts, and when + you are back on the hulks—for you are bound to go there—you + must see about escaping. It is a dog’s life, still it is life!” + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille’s eyes glittered with suppressed delirium. + </p> + <p> + “With seven hundred thousand francs you can get a good many drinks,” said + Jacques Collin, making his pal quite drunk with hope. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, boss!” + </p> + <p> + “I can bamboozle the Minister of Justice.—Ah, ha! Ruffard will shell + out to do for a reeler. Bibi-Lupin is fairly gulled!” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, it is a bargain,” said la Pouraille with savage glee. “You + order, and I obey.” + </p> + <p> + And he hugged Jacques Collin in his arms, while tears of joy stood in his + eyes, so hopeful did he feel of saving his head. + </p> + <p> + “That is not all,” said Jacques Collin; “the public prosecutor does not + swallow everything, you know, especially when a new count is entered + against you. The next thing is to bring a moll into the case by blowing + the gaff.” + </p> + <p> + “But how, and what for?” + </p> + <p> + “Do as I bid you; you will see.” And <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> briefly told + the secret of the Nanterre murders, showing him how necessary it was to + find a woman who would pretend to be Ginetta. Then he and la Pouraille, + now in good spirits, went across to le Biffon. + </p> + <p> + “I know how sweet you are on la Biffe,” said Jacques Collin to this man. + </p> + <p> + The expression in le Biffon’s eyes was a horrible poem. + </p> + <p> + “What will she do while you are on the hulks?” + </p> + <p> + A tear sparkled in le Biffon’s fierce eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose I were to get her lodgings in the Lorcefe des Largues” (the + women’s La Force, i. e. les Madelonnettes or Saint-Lazare) “for a stretch, + allowing that time for you to be sentenced and sent there, to arrive and + to escape?” + </p> + <p> + “Even you cannot work such a miracle. She took no part in the job,” + replied la Biffe’s partner. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my good Biffon,” said la Pouraille, “our boss is more powerful than + God Almighty.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your password for her?” asked Jacques Collin, with the assurance + of a master to whom nothing can be refused. + </p> + <p> + “Sorgue a Pantin (night in Paris). If you say that she knows you have come + from me, and if you want her to do as you bid her, show her a five-franc + piece and say Tondif.” + </p> + <p> + “She will be involved in the sentence on la Pouraille, and let off with a + year in quod for snitching,” said Jacques Collin, looking at la Pouraille. + </p> + <p> + La Pouraille understood his boss’ scheme, and by a single look promised to + persuade le Biffon to promote it by inducing la Biffe to take upon herself + this complicity in the crime la Pouraille was prepared to confess. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, my children. You will presently hear that I have saved my boy + from Jack Ketch,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. “Yes, Jack Ketch and his + hairdresser were waiting in the office to get Madeleine ready.—There,” + he added, “they have come to fetch me to go to the public prosecutor.” + </p> + <p> + And, in fact, a warder came out of the gate and beckoned to this + extraordinary man, who, in face of the young Corsican’s danger, had + recovered his own against his own society. + </p> + <p> + It is worthy of note that at the moment when Lucien’s body was taken away + from him, Jacques Collin had, with a crowning effort, made up his mind to + attempt a last incarnation, not as a human being, but as a <i>thing</i>. + He had at last taken the fateful step that Napoleon took on board the boat + which conveyed him to the Bellerophon. And a strange concurrence of events + aided this genius of evil and corruption in his undertaking. + </p> + <p> + But though the unlooked-for conclusion of this life of crime may perhaps + be deprived of some of the marvelous effect which, in our day, can be + given to a narrative only by incredible improbabilities, it is necessary, + before we accompany Jacques Collin to the public prosecutor’s room, that + we should follow Madame Camusot in her visits during the time we have + spent in the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + One of the obligations which the historian of manners must unfailingly + observe is that of never marring the truth for the sake of dramatic + arrangement, especially when the truth is so kind as to be in itself + romantic. Social nature, particularly in Paris, allows of such freaks of + chance, such complications of whimsical entanglements, that it constantly + outdoes the most inventive imagination. The audacity of facts, by sheer + improbability or indecorum, rises to heights of “situation” forbidden to + art, unless they are softened, cleansed, and purified by the writer. + </p> + <p> + Madame Camusot did her utmost to dress herself for the morning almost in + good taste—a difficult task for the wife of a judge who for six + years has lived in a provincial town. Her object was to give no hold for + criticism to the Marquise d’Espard or the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, in a + call so early as between eight and nine in the morning. Amelie Cecile + Camusot, nee Thirion, it must be said, only half succeeded; and in a + matter of dress is this not a twofold blunder? + </p> + <p> + Few people can imagine how useful the women of Paris are to ambitious men + of every class; they are equally necessary in the world of fashion and the + world of thieves, where, as we have seen, they fill a most important part. + For instance, suppose that a man, not to find himself left in the lurch, + must absolutely get speech within a given time with the high functionary + who was of such immense importance under the Restoration, and who is to + this day called the Keeper of the Seals—a man, let us say, in the + most favorable position, a judge, that is to say, a man familiar with the + way of things. He is compelled to seek out the presiding judge of a + circuit, or some private or official secretary, and prove to him his need + of an immediate interview. But is a Keeper of the Seals ever visible “that + very minute”? In the middle of the day, if he is not at the Chamber, he is + at the Privy Council, or signing papers, or hearing a case. In the early + morning he is out, no one knows where. In the evening he has public and + private engagements. If every magistrate could claim a moment’s interview + under any pretext that might occur to him, the Supreme Judge would be + besieged. + </p> + <p> + The purpose of a private and immediate interview is therefore submitted to + the judgment of one of those mediatory potentates who are but an obstacle + to be removed, a door that can be unlocked, so long as it is not held by a + rival. A woman at once goes to another woman; she can get straight into + her bedroom if she can arouse the curiosity of mistress or maid, + especially if the mistress is under the stress of a strong interest or + pressing necessity. + </p> + <p> + Call this female potentate Madame la Marquise d’Espard, with whom a + Minister has to come to terms; this woman writes a little scented note, + which her man-servant carries to the Minister’s man-servant. The note + greets the Minister on his waking, and he reads it at once. Though the + Minister has business to attend to, the man is enchanted to have a reason + for calling on one of the Queens of Paris, one of the Powers of the + Faubourg Saint-Germain, one of the favorites of the Dauphiness, of MADAME, + or of the King. Casimir Perier, the only real statesman of the Revolution + of July, would leave anything to call on a retired Gentleman of the + bed-chamber to King Charles X. + </p> + <p> + This theory accounts for the magical effect of the words: + </p> + <p> + “Madame,—Madame Camusot, on very important business, which she says + you know of,” spoken in Madame d’Espard’s ear by her maid, who thought she + was awake. + </p> + <p> + And the Marquise desired that Amelie should be shown in at once. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate’s wife was attentively heard when she began with these + words: + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Marquise, we have ruined ourselves by trying to avenge you——” + </p> + <p> + “How is that, my dear?” replied the Marquise, looking at Madame Camusot in + the dim light that fell through the half-open door. “You are vastly sweet + this morning in that little bonnet. Where do you get that shape?” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, madame.—Well, you know that Camusot’s way of + examining Lucien de Rubempre drove the young man to despair, and he hanged + himself in prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what will become of Madame de Serizy?” cried the Marquise, affecting + ignorance, that she might hear the whole story once more. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! they say she is quite mad,” said Amelie. “If you could persuade the + Lord Keeper to send for my husband this minute, by special messenger, to + meet him at the Palais, the Minister would hear some strange mysteries, + and report them, no doubt, to the King.... Then Camusot’s enemies would be + reduced to silence.” + </p> + <p> + “But who are Camusot’s enemies?” asked Madame d’Espard. + </p> + <p> + “The public prosecutor, and now Monsieur de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, my dear,” replied Madame d’Espard, who owed to Monsieur de + Granville and the Comte de Serizy her defeat in the disgraceful + proceedings by which she had tried to have her husband treated as a + lunatic, “I will protect you; I never forget either my foes or my + friends.” + </p> + <p> + She rang; the maid drew open the curtains, and daylight flooded the room; + she asked for her desk, and the maid brought it in. The Marquise hastily + scrawled a few lines. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Godard to go on horseback, and carry this note to the Chancellor’s + office.—There is no reply,” said she to the maid. + </p> + <p> + The woman went out of the room quickly, but, in spite of the order, + remained at the door for some minutes. + </p> + <p> + “There are great mysteries going forward then?” asked Madame d’Espard. + “Tell me all about it, dear child. Has Clotilde de Grandlieu put a finger + in the pie?” + </p> + <p> + “You will know everything from the Lord Keeper, for my husband has told me + nothing. He only told me he was in danger. It would be better for us that + Madame de Serizy should die than that she should remain mad.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman!” said the Marquise. “But was she not mad already?” + </p> + <p> + Women of the world, by a hundred ways of pronouncing the same phrase, + illustrate to attentive hearers the infinite variety of musical modes. The + soul goes out into the voice as it does into the eyes; it vibrates in + light and in air—the elements acted on by the eyes and the voice. By + the tone she gave to the two words, “Poor woman!” the Marquise betrayed + the joy of satisfied hatred, the pleasure of triumph. Oh! what woes did + she not wish to befall Lucien’s protectress. Revenge, which nothing can + assuage, which can survive the person hated, fills us with dark terrors. + And Madame Camusot, though harsh herself, vindictive, and quarrelsome, was + overwhelmed. She could find nothing to say, and was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Diane told me that Leontine went to the prison,” Madame d’Espard went on. + “The dear Duchess is in despair at such a scandal, for she is so foolish + as to be very fond of Madame de Serizy; however, it is comprehensible: + they both adored that little fool Lucien at about the same time, and + nothing so effectually binds or severs two women as worshiping at the same + altar. And our dear friend spent two hours yesterday in Leontine’s room. + The poor Countess, it seems, says dreadful things! I heard that it was + disgusting! A woman of rank ought not to give way to such attacks.—Bah! + A purely physical passion.—The Duchess came to see me as pale as + death; she really was very brave. There are monstrous things connected + with this business.” + </p> + <p> + “My husband will tell the Keeper of the Seals all he knows for his own + justification, for they wanted to save Lucien, and he, Madame la Marquise, + did his duty. An examining judge always has to question people in private + at the time fixed by law! He had to ask the poor little wretch something, + if only for form’s sake, and the young fellow did not understand, and + confessed things——” + </p> + <p> + “He was an impertinent fool!” said Madame d’Espard in a hard tone. + </p> + <p> + The judge’s wife kept silence on hearing this sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Though we failed in the matter of the Commission in Lunacy, it was not + Camusot’s fault, I shall never forget that,” said the Marquise after a + pause. “It was Lucien, Monsieur de Serizy, Monsieur de Bauvan, and + Monsieur de Granville who overthrew us. With time God will be on my side; + all those people will come to grief.—Be quite easy, I will send the + Chevalier d’Espard to the Keeper of the Seals that he may desire your + husbands’s presence immediately, if that is of any use.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! madame——” + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” said the Marquise. “I promise you the ribbon of the Legion of + Honor at once—to-morrow. It will be a conspicuous testimonial of + satisfaction with your conduct in this affair. Yes, it implies further + blame on Lucien; it will prove him guilty. Men do not commonly hang + themselves for the pleasure of it.—Now, good-bye, my pretty dear——” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later Madame Camusot was in the bedroom of the beautiful Diane + de Maufrigneuse, who had not gone to bed till one, and at nine o’clock had + not yet slept. + </p> + <p> + However insensible duchesses may be, even these women, whose hearts are of + stone, cannot see a friend a victim to madness without being painfully + impressed by it. + </p> + <p> + And besides, the connection between Diane and Lucien, though at an end now + eighteen months since, had left such memories with the Duchess that the + poor boy’s disastrous end had been to her also a fearful blow. All night + Diane had seen visions of the beautiful youth, so charming, so poetical, + who had been so delightful a lover—painted as Leontine depicted him, + with the vividness of wild delirium. She had letters from Lucien that she + had kept, intoxicating letters worthy to compare with Mirabeau’s to + Sophie, but more literary, more elaborate, for Lucien’s letters had been + dictated by the most powerful of passions—Vanity. Having the most + bewitching of duchesses for his mistress, and seeing her commit any folly + for him—secret follies, of course—had turned Lucien’s head + with happiness. The lover’s pride had inspired the poet. And the Duchess + had treasured these touching letters, as some old men keep indecent + prints, for the sake of their extravagant praise of all that was least + duchess-like in her nature. + </p> + <p> + “And he died in a squalid prison!” cried she to herself, putting the + letters away in a panic when she heard her maid knocking gently at her + door. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Camusot,” said the woman, “on business of the greatest importance + to you, Madame la Duchesse.” + </p> + <p> + Diane sprang to her feet in terror. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried she, looking at Amelie, who had assumed a duly condoling air, + “I guess it all—my letters! It is about my letters. Oh, my letters, + my letters!” + </p> + <p> + She sank on to a couch. She remembered now how, in the extravagance of her + passion, she had answered Lucien in the same vein, had lauded the man’s + poetry as he has sung the charms of the woman, and in what a strain! + </p> + <p> + “Alas, yes, madame, I have come to save what is dearer to you than life—your + honor. Compose yourself and get dressed, we must go to the Duchesse de + Grandlieu; happily for you, you are not the only person compromised.” + </p> + <p> + “But at the Palais, yesterday, Leontine burned, I am told, all the letters + found at poor Lucien’s.” + </p> + <p> + “But, madame, behind Lucien there was Jacques Collin!” cried the + magistrate’s wife. “You always forget that horrible companionship which + beyond question led to that charming and lamented young man’s end. That + Machiavelli of the galleys never loses his head! Monsieur Camusot is + convinced that the wretch has in some safe hiding-place all the most + compromising letters written by you ladies to his——” + </p> + <p> + “His friend,” the Duchess hastily put in. “You are right, my child. We + must hold council at the Grandlieus’. We are all concerned in this matter, + and Serizy happily will lend us his aid.” + </p> + <p> + Extreme peril—as we have observed in the scenes in the Conciergerie—has + a hold over the soul not less terrible than that of powerful reagents over + the body. It is a mental Voltaic battery. The day, perhaps, is not far off + when the process shall be discovered by which feeling is chemically + converted into a fluid not unlike the electric fluid. + </p> + <p> + The phenomena were the same in the convict and the Duchess. This crushed, + half-dying woman, who had not slept, who was so particular over her + dressing, had recovered the strength of a lioness at bay, and the presence + of mind of a general under fire. Diane chose her gown and got through her + dressing with the alacrity of a grisette who is her own waiting-woman. It + was so astounding, that the lady’s-maid stood for a moment stock-still, so + greatly was she surprised to see her mistress in her shift, not ill + pleased perhaps to let the judge’s wife discern through the thin cloud of + lawn a form as white and as perfect as that of Canova’s Venus. It was like + a gem in a fold of tissue paper. Diane suddenly remembered where a pair of + stays had been put that fastened in front, sparing a woman in a hurry the + ill-spent time and fatigue of being laced. She had arranged the lace + trimming of her shift and the fulness of the bosom by the time the maid + had fetched her petticoat, and crowned the work by putting on her gown. + While Amelie, at a sign from the maid, hooked the bodice behind, the woman + brought out a pair of thread stockings, velvet boots, a shawl, and a + bonnet. Amelie and the maid each drew on a stocking. + </p> + <p> + “You are the loveliest creature I ever saw!” said Amelie, insidiously + kissing Diane’s elegant and polished knee with an eager impulse. + </p> + <p> + “Madame has not her match!” cried the maid. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Josette, hold your tongue,” replied the Duchess.—“Have + you a carriage?” she went on, to Madame Camusot. “Then come along, my + dear, we can talk on the road.” + </p> + <p> + And the Duchess ran down the great stairs of the Hotel de Cadignan, + putting on her gloves as she went—a thing she had never been known + to do. + </p> + <p> + “To the Hotel de Grandlieu, and drive fast,” said she to one of her men, + signing to him to get up behind. + </p> + <p> + The footman hesitated—it was a hackney coach. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Madame la Duchesse, you never told me that the young man had letters + of yours. Otherwise Camusot would have proceeded differently...” + </p> + <p> + “Leontine’s state so occupied my thoughts that I forgot myself entirely. + The poor woman was almost crazy the day before yesterday; imagine the + effect on her of this tragical termination. If you could only know, child, + what a morning we went through yesterday! It is enough to make one + forswear love!—Yesterday Leontine and I were dragged across Paris by + a horrible old woman, an old-clothes buyer, a domineering creature, to + that stinking and blood-stained sty they call the Palace of Justice, and I + said to her as I took her there: ‘Is not this enough to make us fall on + our knees and cry out like Madame de Nucingen, when she went through one + of those awful Mediterranean storms on her way to Naples, “Dear God, save + me this time, and never again——!”’ + </p> + <p> + “These two days will certainly have shortened my life.—What fools we + are ever to write!—But love prompts us; we receive pages that fire + the heart through the eyes, and everything is in a blaze! Prudence deserts + us—we reply——” + </p> + <p> + “But why reply when you can act?” said Madame Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “It is grand to lose oneself utterly!” cried the Duchess with pride. “It + is the luxury of the soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful women are excusable,” said Madame Camusot modestly. “They have + more opportunities of falling than we have.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess smiled. + </p> + <p> + “We are always too generous,” said Diane de Maufrigneuse. “I shall do just + like that odious Madame d’Espard.” + </p> + <p> + “And what does she do?” asked the judge’s wife, very curious. + </p> + <p> + “She has written a thousand love-notes——” + </p> + <p> + “So many!” exclaimed Amelie, interrupting the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, and not a word that could compromise her is to be found in + any one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “You would be incapable of maintaining such coldness, such caution,” said + Madame Camusot. “You are a woman; you are one of those angels who cannot + stand out against the devil——” + </p> + <p> + “I have made a vow to write no more letters. I never in my life wrote to + anybody but that unhappy Lucien.—I will keep his letters to my dying + day! My dear child, they are fire, and sometimes we want——” + </p> + <p> + “But if they were found!” said Amelie, with a little shocked expression. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I should say they were part of a romance I was writing; for I have + copied them all, my dear, and burned the originals.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, madame, as a reward allow me to read them.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, child,” said the Duchess. “And then you will see that he did not + write such letters as those to Leontine.” + </p> + <p> + This speech was woman all the world over, of every age and every land. + </p> + <p> + Madame Camusot, like the frog in la Fontaine’s fable, was ready to burst + her skin with the joy of going to the Grandlieus’ in the society of the + beautiful Diane de Maufrigneuse. This morning she would forge one of the + links that are so needful to ambition. She could already hear herself + addressed as Madame la Presidente. She felt the ineffable gladness of + triumphing over stupendous obstacles, of which the greatest was her + husband’s ineptitude, as yet unrevealed, but to her well known. To win + success for a second-rate man! that is to a woman—as to a king—the + delight which tempts great actors when they act a bad play a hundred times + over. It is the very drunkenness of egoism. It is in a way the Saturnalia + of power. + </p> + <p> + Power can prove itself to itself only by the strange misapplication which + leads it to crown some absurd person with the laurels of success while + insulting genius—the only strong-hold which power cannot touch. The + knighting of Caligula’s horse, an imperial farce, has been, and always + will be, a favorite performance. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes Diane and Amelie had exchanged the elegant disorder of + the fair Diane’s bedroom for the severe but dignified and splendid + austerity of the Duchesse de Grandlieu’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + She, a Portuguese, and very pious, always rose at eight to attend mass at + the little church of Sainte-Valere, a chapelry to Saint-Thomas d’Aquin, + standing at that time on the esplanade of the Invalides. This chapel, now + destroyed, was rebuilt in the Rue de Bourgogne, pending the building of a + Gothic church to be dedicated to Sainte-Clotilde. + </p> + <p> + On hearing the first words spoken in her ear by Diane de Maufrigneuse, + this saintly lady went to find Monsieur de Grandlieu, and brought him back + at once. The Duke threw a flashing look at Madame Camusot, one of those + rapid glances with which a man of the world can guess at a whole + existence, or often read a soul. Amelie’s dress greatly helped the Duke to + decipher the story of a middle-class life, from Alencon to Mantes, and + from Mantes to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Oh! if only the lawyer’s wife could have understood this gift in dukes, + she could never have endured that politely ironical look; she saw the + politeness only. Ignorance shares the privileges of fine breeding. + </p> + <p> + “This is Madame Camusot, a daughter of Thirion’s—one of the Cabinet + ushers,” said the Duchess to her husband. + </p> + <p> + The Duke bowed with extreme politeness to the wife of a legal official, + and his face became a little less grave. + </p> + <p> + The Duke had rung for his valet, who now came in. + </p> + <p> + “Go to the Rue Saint-Honore: take a coach. Ring at a side door, No. 10. + Tell the man who opens the door that I beg his master will come here, and + if the gentleman is at home, bring him back with you.—Mention my + name, that will remove all difficulties. + </p> + <p> + “And do not be gone more than a quarter of an hour in all.” + </p> + <p> + Another footman, the Duchess’ servant, came in as soon as the other was + gone. + </p> + <p> + “Go from me to the Duc de Chaulieu, and send up this card.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke gave him a card folded down in a particular way. When the two + friends wanted to meet at once, on any urgent or confidential business + which would not allow of note-writing, they used this means of + communication. + </p> + <p> + Thus we see that similar customs prevail in every rank of society, and + differ only in manner, civility, and small details. The world of fashion, + too, has its argot, its slang; but that slang is called style. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure, madame, of the existence of the letters you say were + written by Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu to this young man?” said the + Duc de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + And he cast a look at Madame Camusot as a sailor casts a sounding line. + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen them, but there is reason to fear it,” replied Madame + Camusot, quaking. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter can have written nothing we would not own to!” said the + Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Duchess!” thought Diane, with a glance at the Duke that terrified + him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, my dear little Diane?” said the Duke in a whisper, as + he led her away into a recess. + </p> + <p> + “Clotilde is so crazy about Lucien, my dear friend, that she had made an + assignation with him before leaving. If it had not been for little + Lenoncourt, she would perhaps have gone off with him into the forest of + Fontainebleau. I know that Lucien used to write letters to her which were + enough to turn the brain of a saint.—We are three daughters of Eve + in the coils of the serpent of letter-writing.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke and Diane came back to the Duchess and Madame Camusot, who were + talking in undertones. Amelie, following the advice of the Duchesse de + Maufrigneuse, affected piety to win the proud lady’s favor. + </p> + <p> + “We are at the mercy of a dreadful escaped convict!” said the Duke, with a + peculiar shrug. “This is what comes of opening one’s house to people one + is not absolutely sure of. Before admitting an acquaintance, one ought to + know all about his fortune, his relations, all his previous history——” + </p> + <p> + This speech is the moral of my story—from the aristocratic point of + view. + </p> + <p> + “That is past and over,” said the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. “Now we must + think of saving that poor Madame de Serizy, Clotilde, and me——” + </p> + <p> + “We can but wait for Henri; I have sent to him. But everything really + depends on the man Gentil is gone to fetch. God grant that man may be in + Paris!—Madame,” he added to Madame Camusot, “thank you so much for + having thought of us——” + </p> + <p> + This was Madame Camusot’s dismissal. The daughter of the court usher had + wit enough to understand the Duke; she rose. But the Duchess de + Maufrigneuse, with the enchanting grace which had won her so much + friendship and discretion, took Amelie by the hand as if to show her, in a + way, to the Duke and Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “On my own account,” said she, “to say nothing of her having been up + before daybreak to save us all, I may ask for more than a remembrance for + my little Madame Camusot. In the first place, she has already done me such + a service as I cannot forget; and then she is wholly devoted to our side, + she and her husband. I have promised that her Camusot shall have + advancement, and I beg you above everything to help him on, for my sake.” + </p> + <p> + “You need no such recommendation,” said the Duke to Madame Camusot. “The + Grandlieus always remember a service done them. The King’s adherents will + ere long have a chance of distinguishing themselves; they will be called + upon to prove their devotion; your husband will be placed in the front——” + </p> + <p> + Madame Camusot withdrew, proud, happy, puffed up to suffocation. She + reached home triumphant; she admired herself, she made light of the public + prosecutor’s hostility. She said to herself: + </p> + <p> + “Supposing we were to send Monsieur de Granville flying——” + </p> + <p> + It was high time for Madame Camusot to vanish. The Duc de Chaulieu, one of + the King’s prime favorites, met the bourgeoise on the outer steps. + </p> + <p> + “Henri,” said the Duc de Grandlieu when he heard his friend announced, + “make haste, I beg of you, to get to the Chateau, try to see the King—the + business of this;” and he led the Duke into the window-recess, where he + had been talking to the airy and charming Diane. + </p> + <p> + Now and then the Duc de Chaulieu glanced in the direction of the flighty + Duchess, who, while talking to the pious Duchess and submitting to be + lectured, answered the Duc de Chaulieu’s expressive looks. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” said the Duc de Grandlieu to her at last, the <i>aside</i> + being ended, “do be good! Come, now,” and he took Diane’s hands, “observe + the proprieties of life, do not compromise yourself any more, write no + letters. Letters, my dear, have caused as much private woe as public + mischief. What might be excusable in a girl like Clotilde, in love for the + first time, had no excuse in——” + </p> + <p> + “An old soldier who has been under fire,” said Diane with a pout. + </p> + <p> + This grimace and the Duchess’ jest brought a smile to the face of the two + much-troubled Dukes, and of the pious Duchess herself. + </p> + <p> + “But for four years I have never written a billet-doux.—Are we + saved?” asked Diane, who hid her curiosity under this childishness. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” said the Duc de Chaulieu. “You have no notion how difficult it + is to do an arbitrary thing. In a constitutional king it is what + infidelity is in a wife: it is adultery.” + </p> + <p> + “The fascinating sin,” said the Duc de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “Forbidden fruit!” said Diane, smiling. “Oh! how I wish I were the + Government, for I have none of that fruit left—I have eaten it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear, my dear!” said the elder Duchess, “you really go too far.” + </p> + <p> + The two Dukes, hearing a coach stop at the door with the clatter of horses + checked in full gallop, bowed to the ladies and left them, going into the + Duc de Grandlieu’s study, whither came the gentleman from the Rue + Honore-Chevalier—no less a man than the chief of the King’s private + police, the obscure but puissant Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said the Duc de Grandlieu; “go first, Monsieur de Saint-Denis.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin, surprised that the Duke should have remembered him, went forward + after bowing low to the two noblemen. + </p> + <p> + “Always about the same individual, or about his concerns, my dear sir,” + said the Duc de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “But he is dead,” said Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “He has left a partner,” said the Duc de Chaulieu, “a very tough + customer.” + </p> + <p> + “The convict Jacques Collin,” replied Corentin. + </p> + <p> + “Will you speak, Ferdinand?” said the Duke de Chaulieu to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “That wretch is an object of fear,” said the Duc de Grandlieu, “for he has + possessed himself, so as to be able to levy blackmail, of the letters + written by Madame de Serizy and Madame de Maufrigneuse to Lucien Chardon, + that man’s tool. It would seem that it was a matter of system in the young + man to extract passionate letters in return for his own, for I am told + that Mademoiselle de Grandlieu had written some—at least, so we fear—and + we cannot find out from her—she is gone abroad.” + </p> + <p> + “That little young man,” replied Corentin, “was incapable of so much + foresight. That was a precaution due to the Abbe Carlos Herrera.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin rested his elbow on the arm of the chair on which he was sitting, + and his head on his hand, meditating. + </p> + <p> + “Money!—The man has more than we have,” said he. “Esther Gobseck + served him as a bait to extract nearly two million francs from that well + of gold called Nucingen.—Gentlemen, get me full legal powers, and I + will rid you of the fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “And—the letters?” asked the Duc de Grandlieu. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, gentlemen,” said Corentin, standing up, his weasel-face + betraying his excitement. + </p> + <p> + He thrust his hands into the pockets of his black doeskin trousers, shaped + over the shoes. This great actor in the historical drama of the day had + only stopped to put on a waistcoat and frock-coat, and had not changed his + morning trousers, so well he knew how grateful men can be for immediate + action in certain cases. He walked up and down the room quite at his ease, + haranguing loudly, as if he had been alone. + </p> + <p> + “He is a convict. He could be sent off to Bicetre without trial, and put + in solitary confinement, without a soul to speak to, and left there to + die.—But he may have given instructions to his adherents, foreseeing + this possibility.” + </p> + <p> + “But he was put into the secret cells,” said the Duc de Grandlieu, “the + moment he was taken into custody at that woman’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there such a thing as a secret cell for such a fellow as he is?” said + Corentin. “He is a match for—for me!” + </p> + <p> + “What is to be done?” said the Dukes to each other by a glance. + </p> + <p> + “We can send the scoundrel back to the hulks at once—to Rochefort; + he will be dead in six months! Oh! without committing any crime,” he + added, in reply to a gesture on the part of the Duc de Grandlieu. “What do + you expect? A convict cannot hold out more than six months of a hot summer + if he is made to work really hard among the marshes of the Charente. But + this is of no use if our man has taken precautions with regard to the + letters. If the villain has been suspicious of his foes, and that is + probable, we must find out what steps he has taken. Then, if the present + holder of the letters is poor, he is open to bribery. So, no, we must make + Jacques Collin speak. What a duel! He will beat me. The better plan would + be to purchase those letters by exchange for another document—a + letter of reprieve—and to place the man in my gang. Jacques Collin + is the only man alive who is clever enough to come after me, poor + Contenson and dear old Peyrade both being dead! Jacques Collin killed + those two unrivaled spies on purpose, as it were, to make a place for + himself. So, you see, gentlemen, you must give me a free hand. Jacques + Collin is in the Conciergerie. I will go to see Monsieur de Granville in + his Court. Send some one you can trust to meet me there, for I must have a + letter to show to Monsieur de Granville, who knows nothing of me. I will + hand the letter to the President of the Council, a very impressive + sponsor. You have half an hour before you, for I need half an hour to + dress, that is to say, to make myself presentable to the eyes of the + public prosecutor.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the Duc de Chaulieu, “I know your wonderful skill. I only + ask you to say Yes or No. Will you be bound to succeed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if I have full powers, and your word that I shall never be + questioned about the matter.—My plan is laid.” + </p> + <p> + This sinister reply made the two fine gentlemen shiver. “Go on, then, + monsieur,” said the Duc de Chaulieu. “You can set down the charges of the + case among those you are in the habit of undertaking.” + </p> + <p> + Corentin bowed and went away. + </p> + <p> + Henri de Lenoncourt, for whom Ferdinand de Grandlieu had a carriage + brought out, went off forthwith to the King, whom he was privileged to see + at all times in right of his office. + </p> + <p> + Thus all the various interests that had got entangled from the highest to + the lowest ranks of society were to meet presently in Monsieur de + Granville’s room at the Palais, all brought together by necessity embodied + in three men—Justice in Monsieur de Granville, and the family in + Corentin, face to face with Jacques Collin, the terrible foe who + represented social crime in its fiercest energy. + </p> + <p> + What a duel is that between justice and arbitrary wills on one side and + the hulks and cunning on the other! The hulks—symbolical of that + daring which throws off calculation and reflection, which avails itself of + any means, which has none of the hyprocrisy of high-handed justice, but is + the hideous outcome of the starving stomach—the swift and + bloodthirsty pretext of hunger. Is it not attack as against + self-protection, theft as against property? The terrible quarrel between + the social state and the natural man, fought out on the narrowest possible + ground! In short, it is a terrible and vivid image of those compromises, + hostile to social interests, which the representatives of authority, when + they lack power, submit to with the fiercest rebels. + </p> + <p> + When Monsieur Camusot was announced, the public prosecutor signed that he + should be admitted. Monsieur de Granville had foreseen this visit, and + wished to come to an understanding with the examining judge as to how to + wind up this business of Lucien’s death. The end could no longer be that + on which he had decided the day before in agreement with Camusot, before + the suicide of the hapless poet. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Monsieur Camusot,” said Monsieur de Granville, dropping into + his armchair. The public prosecutor, alone with the inferior judge, made + no secret of his depressed state. Camusot looked at Monsieur de Granville + and observed his almost livid pallor, and such utter fatigue, such + complete prostration, as betrayed greater suffering perhaps than that of + the condemned man to whom the clerk had announced the rejection of his + appeal. And yet that announcement, in the forms of justice, is a much as + to say, “Prepare to die; your last hour has come.” + </p> + <p> + “I will return later, Monsieur le Comte,” said Camusot. “Though business + is pressing——” + </p> + <p> + “No, stay,” replied the public prosecutor with dignity. “A magistrate, + monsieur, must accept his anxieties and know how to hide them. I was in + fault if you saw any traces of agitation in me——” + </p> + <p> + Camusot bowed apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “God grant you may never know these crucial perplexities of our life. A + man might sink under less! I have just spent the night with one of my most + intimate friends.—I have but two friends, the Comte Octave de Bauvan + and the Comte de Serizy.—We sat together, Monsieur de Serizy, the + Count, and I, from six in the evening till six this morning, taking it in + turns to go from the drawing-room to Madame de Serizy’s bedside, fearing + each time that we might find her dead or irremediably insane. Desplein, + Bianchon, and Sinard never left the room, and she has two nurses. The + Count worships his wife. Imagine the night I have spent, between a woman + crazy with love and a man crazy with despair. And a statesman’s despair is + not like that of an idiot. Serizy, as calm as if he were sitting in his + place in council, clutched his chair to force himself to show us an + unmoved countenance, while sweat stood over the brows bent by so much hard + thought.—Worn out by want of sleep, I dozed from five till half-past + seven, and I had to be here by half-past eight to warrant an execution. + Take my word for it, Monsieur Camusot, when a judge has been toiling all + night in such gulfs of sorrow, feeling the heavy hand of God on all human + concerns, and heaviest on noble souls, it is hard to sit down here, in + front of a desk, and say in cold blood, ‘Cut off a head at four o’clock! + Destroy one of God’s creatures full of life, health, and strength!’—And + yet this is my duty! Sunk in grief myself, I must order the scaffold—— + </p> + <p> + “The condemned wretch cannot know that his judge suffers anguish equal to + his own. At this moment he and I, linked by a sheet of paper—I, + society avenging itself; he, the crime to be avenged—embody the same + duty seen from two sides; we are two lives joined for the moment by the + sword of the law. + </p> + <p> + “Who pities the judge’s deep sorrow? Who can soothe it? Our glory is to + bury it in the depth of our heart. The priest with his life given to God, + the soldier with a thousand deaths for his country’s sake, seem to me far + happier than the magistrate with his doubts and fears and appalling + responsibility. + </p> + <p> + “You know who the condemned man is?” Monsieur de Granville went on. “A + young man of seven-and-twenty—as handsome as he who killed himself + yesterday, and as fair; condemned against all our anticipations, for the + only proof against him was his concealment of the stolen goods. Though + sentenced, the lad will confess nothing! For seventy days he has held out + against every test, constantly declaring that he is innocent. For two + months I have felt two heads on my shoulders! I would give a year of my + life if he would confess, for juries need encouragement; and imagine what + a blow it would be to justice if some day it should be discovered that the + crime for which he is punished was committed by another. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris everything is so terribly important; the most trivial incidents + in the law courts have political consequences. + </p> + <p> + “The jury, an institution regarded by the legislators of the Revolution as + a source of strength, is, in fact, an instrument of social ruin, for it + fails in action; it does not sufficiently protect society. The jury + trifles with its functions. The class of jurymen is divided into two + parties, one averse to capital punishment; the result is a total upheaval + of true equality in administration of the law. Parricide, a most horrible + crime, is in some departments treated with leniency, while in others a + common murder, so to speak, is punished with death. [There are in penal + servitude twenty-three parricides who have been allowed the benefit of <i>extenuating + circumstances</i>.] And what would happen if here in Paris, in our home + district, an innocent man should be executed!” + </p> + <p> + “He is an escaped convict,” said Monsieur Camusot, diffidently. + </p> + <p> + “The Opposition and the Press would make him a paschal lamb!” cried + Monsieur de Granville; “and the Opposition would enjoy white-washing him, + for he is a fanatical Corsican, full of his native notions, and his + murders were a <i>Vendetta</i>. In that island you may kill your enemy, + and think yourself, and be thought, a very good man. + </p> + <p> + “A thorough-paced magistrate, I tell you, is an unhappy man. They ought to + live apart from all society, like the pontiffs of old. The world should + never see them but at fixed hours, leaving their cells, grave, and old, + and venerable, passing sentence like the high priests of antiquity, who + combined in their person the functions of judicial and sacerdotal + authority. We should be accessible only in our high seat.—As it is, + we are to be seen every day, amused or unhappy, like other men. We are to + be found in drawing-rooms and at home, as ordinary citizens, moved by our + passions; and we seem, perhaps, more grotesque than terrible.” + </p> + <p> + This bitter cry, broken by pauses and interjections, and emphasized by + gestures which gave it an eloquence impossible to reduce to writing, made + Camusot’s blood run chill. + </p> + <p> + “And I, monsieur,” said he, “began yesterday my apprenticeship to the + sufferings of our calling.—I could have died of that young fellow’s + death. He misunderstood my wish to be lenient, and the poor wretch + committed himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you ought never to have examined him!” cried Monsieur de Granville; + “it is so easy to oblige by doing nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “And the law, monsieur?” replied Camusot. “He had been in custody two + days.” + </p> + <p> + “The mischief is done,” said the public prosecutor. “I have done my best + to remedy what is indeed irremediable. My carriage and servants are + following the poor weak poet to the grave. Serizy has sent his too; nay, + more, he accepts the duty imposed on him by the unfortunate boy, and will + act as his executor. By promising this to his wife he won from her a gleam + of returning sanity. And Count Octave is attending the funeral in person.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Monsieur le Comte,” said Camusot, “let us complete our work. + We have a very dangerous man on our hands. He is Jacques Collin—and + you know it as well as I do. The ruffian will be recognized——” + </p> + <p> + “Then we are lost!” cried Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “He is at this moment shut up with your condemned murderer, who, on the + hulks, was to him what Lucien has been in Paris—a favorite protege. + Bibi-Lupin, disguised as a gendarme, is watching the interview.” + </p> + <p> + “What business has the superior police to interfere?” said the public + prosecutor. “He has no business to act without my orders!” + </p> + <p> + “All the Conciergerie must know that we have caught Jacques Collin.—Well, + I have come on purpose to tell you that this daring felon has in his + possession the most compromising letters of Lucien’s correspondence with + Madame de Serizy, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, and Mademoiselle Clotilde + de Grandlieu.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure of that?” asked Monsieur de Granville, his face full of + pained surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You shall hear, Monsieur le Comte, what reason I have to fear such a + misfortune. When I untied the papers found in the young man’s rooms, + Jacques Collin gave a keen look at the parcel, and smiled with + satisfaction in a way that no examining judge could misunderstand. So deep + a villain as Jacques Collin takes good care not to let such a weapon slip + through his fingers. What is to be said if these documents should be + placed in the hands of counsel chosen by that rascal from among the foes + of the government and the aristocracy!—My wife, to whom the Duchesse + de Maufrigneuse has shown so much kindness, is gone to warn her, and by + this time they must be with the Grandlieus holding council.” + </p> + <p> + “But we cannot possibly try the man!” cried the public prosecutor, rising + and striding up and down the room. “He must have put the papers in some + safe place——” + </p> + <p> + “I know where,” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + These words finally effaced every prejudice the public prosecutor had felt + against him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then——” said Monsieur de Granville, sitting down again. + </p> + <p> + “On my way here this morning I reflected deeply on this miserable + business. Jacques Collin has an aunt—an aunt by nature, not putative—a + woman concerning whom the superior police have communicated a report to + the Prefecture. He is this woman’s pupil and idol; she is his father’s + sister, her name is Jacqueline Collin. This wretched woman carries on a + trade as a wardrobe purchaser, and by the connection this business has + secured her she gets hold of many family secrets. If Jacques Collin has + intrusted those papers, which would be his salvation, to any one’s + keeping, it is to that of this creature. Have her arrested.” + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor gave Camusot a keen look, as much as to say, “This + man is not such a fool as I thought him; he is still young, and does not + yet know how to handle the reins of justice.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Camusot went on, “in order to succeed, we must give up all the + plans we laid yesterday, and I came to take your advice—your orders——” + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor took up his paper-knife and tapped it against the + edge of the table with one of the tricky movements familiar to thoughtful + men when they give themselves up to meditation. + </p> + <p> + “Three noble families involved!” he exclaimed. “We must not make the + smallest blunder!—You are right: as a first step let us act on + Fouche’s principle, ‘Arrest!’—and Jacques Collin must at once be + sent back to the secret cells.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to proclaim him a convict and to ruin Lucien’s memory!” + </p> + <p> + “What a desperate business!” said Monsieur de Granville. “There is danger + on every side.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant the governor of the Conciergerie came in, not without + knocking; and the private room of a public prosecutor is so well guarded, + that only those concerned about the courts may even knock at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte,” said Monsieur Gault, “the prisoner calling himself + Carlos Herrera wishes to speak with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he had communication with anybody?” asked Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “With all the prisoners, for he has been out in the yard since about + half-past seven. And he has seen the condemned man, who would seem to have + talked to him.” + </p> + <p> + A speech of Camusot’s, which recurred to his mind like a flash of light, + showed Monsieur de Granville all the advantage that might be taken of a + confession of intimacy between Jacques Collin and Theodore Calvi to obtain + the letters. The public prosecutor, glad to have an excuse for postponing + the execution, beckoned Monsieur Gault to his side. + </p> + <p> + “I intend,” said he, “to put off the execution till to-morrow; but let no + one in the prison suspect it. Absolute silence! Let the executioner seem + to be superintending the preparations. + </p> + <p> + “Send the Spanish priest here under a strong guard; the Spanish Embassy + claims his person! Gendarmes can bring up the self-styled Carlos by your + back stairs so that he may see no one. Instruct the men each to hold him + by one arm, and never let him go till they reach this door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure, Monsieur Gault, that this dangerous foreigner has spoken to + no one but the prisoners!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! just as he came out of the condemned cell a lady came to see him——” + </p> + <p> + The two magistrates exchanged looks, and such looks! + </p> + <p> + “What lady was that!” asked Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “One of his penitents—a Marquise,” replied Gault. + </p> + <p> + “Worse and worse!” said Monsieur de Granville, looking at Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “She gave all the gendarmes and warders a sick headache,” said Monsieur + Gault, much puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can be a matter of indifference in your business,” said the + public prosecutor. “The Conciergerie has not such tremendous walls for + nothing. How did this lady get in?” + </p> + <p> + “With a regular permit, monsieur,” replied the governor. “The lady, + beautifully dressed, in a fine carriage with a footman and a chasseur, + came to see her confessor before going to the funeral of the poor young + man whose body you had had removed.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring me the order for admission,” said Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “It was given on the recommendation of the Comte de Serizy.” + </p> + <p> + “What was the woman like?” asked the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “She seemed to be a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see her face?” + </p> + <p> + “She wore a black veil.” + </p> + <p> + “What did they say to each other?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—a pious person, with a prayer-book in her hand—what + could she say? She asked the Abbe’s blessing and went on her knees.” + </p> + <p> + “Did they talk together a long time?” + </p> + <p> + “Not five minutes; but we none of us understood what they said; they spoke + Spanish no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us everything, monsieur,” the public prosecutor insisted. “I repeat, + the very smallest detail is to us of the first importance. Let this be a + caution to you.” + </p> + <p> + “She was crying, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Really weeping?” + </p> + <p> + “That we could not see, she hid her face in her handkerchief. She left + three hundred francs in gold for the prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + “That was not she!” said Camusot. + </p> + <p> + “Bibi-Lupin at once said, ‘She is a thief!’” said Monsieur Gault. + </p> + <p> + “He knows the tribe,” said Monsieur de Granville.—“Get out your + warrant,” he added, turning to Camusot, “and have seals placed on + everything in her house—at once! But how can she have got hold of + Monsieur de Serizy’s recommendation?—Bring me the order—and + go, Monsieur Gault; send me that Abbe immediately. So long as we have him + safe, the danger cannot be greater. And in the course of two hours’ talk + you get a long way into a man’s mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Especially such a public prosecutor as you are,” said Camusot + insidiously. + </p> + <p> + “There will be two of us,” replied Monsieur de Granville politely. + </p> + <p> + And he became discursive once more. + </p> + <p> + “There ought to be created for every prison parlor, a post of + superintendent, to be given with a good salary to the cleverest and most + energetic police officers,” said he, after a long pause. “Bibi-Lupin ought + to end his days in such a place. Then we should have an eye and ear on the + watch in a department that needs closer supervision than it gets.—Monsieur + Gault could tell us nothing positive.” + </p> + <p> + “He has so much to do,” said Camusot. “Still, between these secret cells + and us there lies a gap which ought not to exist. On the way from the + Conciergerie to the judges’ rooms there are passages, courtyards, and + stairs. The attention of the agents cannot be unflagging, whereas the + prisoner is always alive to his own affairs. + </p> + <p> + “I was told that a lady had already placed herself in the way of Jacques + Collin when he was brought up from the cells to be examined. That woman + got into the guardroom at the top of the narrow stairs from the mousetrap; + the ushers told me, and I blamed the gendarmes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the Palais needs entire reconstruction,” said Monsieur de Granville. + “But it is an outlay of twenty to thirty million francs! Just try asking + the Chambers for thirty millions for the more decent accommodation of + Justice.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of many footsteps and a clatter of arms fell on their ear. It + would be Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor assumed a mask of gravity that hid the man. Camusot + imitated his chief. + </p> + <p> + The office-boy opened the door, and Jacques Collin came in, quite calm and + unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “You wished to speak to me,” said Monsieur de Granville. “I am ready to + listen.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte, I am Jacques Collin. I surrender!” + </p> + <p> + Camusot started; the public prosecutor was immovable. + </p> + <p> + “As you may suppose, I have my reasons for doing this,” said Jacques + Collin, with an ironical glance at the two magistrates. “I must + inconvenience you greatly; for if I had remained a Spanish priest, you + would simply have packed me off with an escort of gendarmes as far as the + frontier by Bayonne, and there Spanish bayonets would have relieved you of + me.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyers sat silent and imperturbable. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte,” the convict went on, “the reasons which have led me + to this step are yet more pressing than this, but devilish personal to + myself. I can tell them to no one but you.—If you are afraid——” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid of whom? Of what?” said the Comte de Granville. + </p> + <p> + In attitude and expression, in the turn of his head, his demeanor and his + look, this distinguished judge was at this moment a living embodiment of + the law which ought to supply us with the noblest examples of civic + courage. In this brief instant he was on a level with the magistrates of + the old French Parlement in the time of the civil wars, when the + presidents found themselves face to face with death, and stood, made of + marble, like the statues that commemorate them. + </p> + <p> + “Afraid to be alone with an escaped convict!” + </p> + <p> + “Leave us, Monsieur Camusot,” said the public prosecutor at once. + </p> + <p> + “I was about to suggest that you should bind me hand and foot,” Jacques + Collin coolly added, with an ominous glare at the two gentlemen. He + paused, and then said with great gravity: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte, you had my esteem, but you now command my admiration.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think you are formidable?” said the magistrate, with a look of + supreme contempt. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Think</i> myself formidable?” retorted the convict. “Why think about + it? I am, and I know it.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin took a chair and sat down, with all the ease of a man who + feels himself a match for his adversary in an interview where they would + treat on equal terms. + </p> + <p> + At this instant Monsieur Camusot, who was on the point of closing the door + behind him, turned back, came up to Monsieur de Granville, and handed him + two folded papers. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” said he to Monsieur de Granville, pointing to one of them. + </p> + <p> + “Call back Monsieur Gault!” cried the Comte de Granville, as he read the + name of Madame de Maufrigneuse’s maid—a woman he knew. + </p> + <p> + The governor of the prison came in. + </p> + <p> + “Describe the woman who came to see the prisoner,” said the public + prosecutor in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Short, thick-set, fat, and square,” replied Monsieur Gault. + </p> + <p> + “The woman to whom this permit was given is tall and thin,” said Monsieur + de Granville. “How old was she?” + </p> + <p> + “About sixty.” + </p> + <p> + “This concerns me, gentlemen?” said Jacques Collin. “Come, do not puzzle + your heads. That person is my aunt, a very plausible aunt, a woman, and an + old woman. I can save you a great deal of trouble. You will never find my + aunt unless I choose. If we beat about the bush, we shall never get + forwarder.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur l’Abbe has lost his Spanish accent,” observed Monsieur Gault; + “he does not speak broken French.” + </p> + <p> + “Because things are in a desperate mess, my dear Monsieur Gault,” replied + Jacques Collin with a bitter smile, as he addressed the Governor by name. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Gault went quickly up to his chief, and said in a whisper, + “Beware of that man, Monsieur le Comte; he is mad with rage.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville gazed slowly at Jacques Collin, and saw that he was + controlling himself; but he saw, too, that what the governor said was + true. This treacherous demeanor covered the cold but terrible nervous + irritation of a savage. In Jacques Collin’s eyes were the lurid fires of a + volcanic eruption, his fists were clenched. He was a tiger gathering + himself up to spring. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us,” said the Count gravely to the prison governor and the judge. + </p> + <p> + “You did wisely to send away Lucien’s murderer!” said Jacques Collin, + without caring whether Camusot heard him or no; “I could not contain + myself, I should have strangled him.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville felt a chill; never had he seen a man’s eyes so full + of blood, or cheeks so colorless, or muscles so set. + </p> + <p> + “And what good would that murder have done you?” he quietly asked. + </p> + <p> + “You avenge society, or fancy you avenge it, every day, monsieur, and you + ask me to give a reason for revenge? Have you never felt vengeance + throbbing in surges in your veins? Don’t you know that it was that idiot + of a judge who killed him?—For you were fond of my Lucien, and he + loved you! I know you by heart, sir. The dear boy would tell me everything + at night when he came in; I used to put him to bed as a nurse tucks up a + child, and I made him tell me everything. He confided everything to me, + even his least sensations! + </p> + <p> + “The best of mothers never loved an only son so tenderly as I loved that + angel! If only you knew! All that is good sprang up in his heart as + flowers grow in the fields. He was weak; it was his only fault, weak as + the string of a lyre, which is so strong when it is taut. These are the + most beautiful natures; their weakness is simply tenderness, admiration, + the power of expanding in the sunshine of art, of love, of the beauty God + has made for man in a thousand shapes!—In short, Lucien was a woman + spoiled. Oh! what could I not say to that brute beast who had just gone + out of the room! + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, monsieur, in my degree, as a prisoner before his judge, I did + what God A’mighty would have done for His Son if, hoping to save Him, He + had gone with Him before Pilate!” + </p> + <p> + A flood of tears fell from the convict’s light tawny eyes, which just now + had glared like those of a wolf starved by six months’ snow in the plains + of the Ukraine. He went on: + </p> + <p> + “That dolt would listen to nothing, and he killed the boy!—I tell + you, sir, I bathed the child’s corpse in my tears, crying out to the Power + I do not know, and which is above us all! I, who do not believe in God!—(For + if I were not a materialist, I should not be myself.) + </p> + <p> + “I have told everything when I say that. You don’t know—no man knows + what suffering is. I alone know it. The fire of anguish so dried up my + tears, that all last night I could not weep. Now I can, because I feel + that you can understand me. I saw you, sitting there just now, an Image of + Justice. Oh! monsieur, may God—for I am beginning to believe in Him—preserve + you from ever being as bereft as I am! That cursed judge has robbed me of + my soul, Monsieur le Comte! At this moment they are burying my life, my + beauty, my virtue, my conscience, all my powers! Imagine a dog from which + a chemist had extracted the blood.—That’s me! I am that dog—— + </p> + <p> + “And that is why I have come to tell you that I am Jacques Collin, and to + give myself up. I made up my mind to it this morning when they came and + carried away the body I was kissing like a madman—like a mother—as + the Virgin must have kissed Jesus in the tomb. + </p> + <p> + “I meant then to give myself up to justice without driving any bargain; + but now I must make one, and you shall know why.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you speaking to the judge or to Monsieur de Granville?” asked the + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + The two men, Crime and Law, looked at each other. The magistrate had been + strongly moved by the convict; he felt a sort of divine pity for the + unhappy wretch; he understood what his life and feelings were. And + besides, the magistrate—for a magistrate is always a magistrate—knowing + nothing of Jacques Collin’s career since his escape from prison, fancied + that he could impress the criminal who, after all, had only been sentenced + for forgery. He would try the effect of generosity on this nature, a + compound, like bronze, of various elements, of good and evil. + </p> + <p> + Again, Monsieur de Granville, who had reached the age of fifty-three + without ever having been loved, admired a tender soul, as all men do who + have not been loved. This despair, the lot of many men to whom women can + only give esteem and friendship, was perhaps the unknown bond on which a + strong intimacy was based that united the Comtes de Bauvan, de Granville, + and de Serizy; for a common misfortune brings souls into unison quite as + much as a common joy. + </p> + <p> + “You have the future before you,” said the public prosecutor, with an + inquisitorial glance at the dejected villain. + </p> + <p> + The man only expressed by a shrug the utmost indifference to his fate. + </p> + <p> + “Lucien made a will by which he leaves you three hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor, poor chap! poor boy!” cried Jacques Collin. “Always too honest! I + was all wickedness, while he was goodness—noble, beautiful, sublime! + Such lovely souls cannot be spoiled. He had taken nothing from me but my + money, sir.” + </p> + <p> + This utter and complete surrender of his individuality, which the + magistrate vainly strove to rally, so thoroughly proved his dreadful + words, that Monsieur de Granville was won over to the criminal. The public + prosecutor remained! + </p> + <p> + “If you really care for nothing,” said Monsieur de Granville, “what did + you want to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, is it not something that I have given myself up? You were getting + warm, but you had not got me; besides, you would not have known what to do + with me——” + </p> + <p> + “What an antagonist!” said the magistrate to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte, you are about to cut off the head of an innocent man, + and I have discovered the culprit,” said Jacques Collin, wiping away his + tears. “I have come here not for their sakes, but for yours. I have come + to spare you remorse, for I love all who took an interest in Lucien, just + as I will give my hatred full play against all who helped to cut off his + life—men or women! + </p> + <p> + “What can a convict more or less matter to me?” he went on, after a short + pause. “A convict is no more in my eyes than an emmet is in yours. I am + like the Italian brigands—fine men they are! If a traveler is worth + ever so little more than the charge of their musket, they shoot him dead. + </p> + <p> + “I thought only of you.—I got the young man to make a clean breast + of it; he was bound to trust me, we had been chained together. Theodore is + very good stuff; he thought he was doing his mistress a good turn by + undertaking to sell or pawn stolen goods; but he is no more guilty of the + Nanterre job than you are. He is a Corsican; it is their way to revenge + themselves and kill each other like flies. In Italy and Spain a man’s life + is not respected, and the reason is plain. There we are believed to have a + soul in our own image, which survives us and lives for ever. Tell that to + your analyst! It is only among atheistical or philosophical nations that + those who mar human life are made to pay so dearly; and with reason from + their point of view—a belief only in matter and in the present. + </p> + <p> + “If Calvi had told you who the woman was from whom he obtained the stolen + goods, you would not have found the real murderer; he is already in your + hands; but his accomplice, whom poor Theodore will not betray because she + is a woman——Well, every calling has its point of honor; + convicts and thieves have theirs! + </p> + <p> + “Now, I know the murderer of those two women and the inventors of that + bold, strange plot; I have been told every detail. Postpone Calvi’s + execution, and you shall know all; but you must give me your word that he + shall be sent safe back to the hulks and his punishment commuted. A man so + miserable as I am does not take the trouble to lie—you know that. + What I have told you is the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “To you, Jacques Collin, though it is degrading Justice, which ought never + to condescend to such a compromise, I believe I may relax the rigidity of + my office and refer the case to my superiors.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you grant me this life?” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I implore you to give me your word; it will be enough.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Granville drew himself up with offended pride. + </p> + <p> + “I hold in my hand the honor of three families, and you only the lives of + three convicts in yours,” said Jacques Collin. “I have the stronger hand.” + </p> + <p> + “But you may be sent back to the dark cells: then, what will you do?” said + the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! we are to play the game out then!” said Jacques Collin. “I was + speaking as man to man—I was talking to Monsieur de Granville. But + if the public prosecutor is my adversary, I take up the cards and hold + them close.—And if only you had given me your word, I was ready to + give you back the letters that Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu——” + </p> + <p> + This was said with a tone, an audacity, and a look which showed Monsieur + de Granville, that against such an adversary the least blunder was + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + “And is that all you ask?” said the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “I will speak for myself now,” said Jacques. “The honor of the Grandlieu + family is to pay for the commutation of Theodore’s sentence. It is giving + much to get very little. For what is a convict in penal servitude for + life? If he escapes, you can so easily settle the score. It is drawing a + bill on the guillotine! Only, as he was consigned to Rochefort with no + amiable intentions, you must promise me that he shall be quartered at + Toulon, and well treated there. + </p> + <p> + “Now, for myself, I want something more. I have the packets of letters + from Madame de Serizy and Madame de Maufrigneuse.—And what letters!—I + tell you, Monsieur le Comte, prostitutes, when they write letters, assume + a style of sentiment; well, sir, fine ladies, who are accustomed to style + and sentiment all day long, write as prostitutes behave. Philosophers may + know the reasons for this contrariness. I do not care to seek them. Woman + is an inferior animal; she is ruled by her instincts. To my mind a woman + has no beauty who is not like a man. + </p> + <p> + “So your smart duchesses, who are men in brains only, write masterpieces. + Oh! they are splendid from beginning to end, like Piron’s famous ode!——” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see them?” said Jacques Collin, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate felt ashamed. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot give them to you to read. But, there; no nonsense; this is + business and all above board, I suppose?—You must give me back the + letters, and allow no one to play the spy or to follow or to watch the + person who will bring them to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That will take time,” said Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “No. It is half-past nine,” replied Jacques Collin, looking at the clock; + “well, in four minutes you will have a letter from each of these ladies, + and after reading them you will countermand the guillotine. If matters + were not as they are, you would not see me taking things so easy.—The + ladies indeed have had warning.”—Monsieur de Granville was startled.—“They + must be making a stir by now; they are going to bring the Keeper of the + Seals into the fray—they may even appeal to the King, who knows?—Come, + now, will you give me your word that you will forget all that has passed, + and neither follow, nor send any one to follow, that person for a whole + hour?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; you are not the man to deceive an escaped convict. You are a + chip of the block of which Turennes and Condes are made, and would keep + your word to a thief.—In the <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i> there is at + this moment a beggar woman in rags, an old woman, in the very middle of + the hall. She is probably gossiping with one of the public writers, about + some lawsuit over a party-wall perhaps; send your office messenger to + fetch her, saying these words, ‘Dabor ti Mandana’ (the Boss wants you). + She will come. + </p> + <p> + “But do not be unnecessarily cruel. Either you accept my terms or you do + not choose to be mixed up in a business with a convict.—I am only a + forger, you will remember!—Well, do not leave Calvi to go through + the terrors of preparation for the scaffold.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already countermanded the execution,” said Monsieur de Granville + to Jacques Collin. “I would not have Justice beneath you in dignity.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin looked at the public prosecutor with a sort of amazement, + and saw him ring his bell. + </p> + <p> + “Will you promise not to escape? Give me your word, and I shall be + satisfied. Go and fetch the woman.” + </p> + <p> + The office-boy came in. + </p> + <p> + “Felix, send away the gendarmes,” said Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin was conquered. + </p> + <p> + In this duel with the magistrate he had tried to be the superior, the + stronger, the more magnanimous, and the magistrate had crushed him. At the + same time, the convict felt himself the superior, inasmuch as he had + tricked the Law; he had convinced it that the guilty man was innocent, and + had fought for a man’s head and won it; but this advantage must be + unconfessed, secret and hidden, while the magistrate towered above him + majestically in the eye of day. + </p> + <p> + As Jacques Collin left Monsieur de Granville’s room, the Comte des + Lupeaulx, Secretary-in-Chief of the President of the Council, and a + deputy, made his appearance, and with him a feeble-looking, little old + man. This individual, wrapped in a puce-colored overcoat, as though it + were still winter, with powdered hair, and a cold, pale face, had a gouty + gait, unsteady on feet that were shod with loose calfskin boots; leaning + on a gold-headed cane, he carried his hat in his hand, and wore a row of + seven orders in his button-hole. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, my dear des Lupeaulx?” asked the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “I come from the Prince,” replied the Count, in a low voice. “You have + carte blanche if you can only get the letters—Madame de Serizy’s, + Madame de Maufrigneuse’s and Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu’s. You may + come to some arrangement with this gentleman——” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” asked Monsieur de Granville, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “There are no secrets between you and me, my dear sir,” said des Lupeaulx. + “This is the famous Corentin. His Majesty desires that you will yourself + tell him all the details of this affair and the conditions of success.” + </p> + <p> + “Do me the kindness,” replied the public prosecutor, “of going to tell the + Prince that the matter is settled, that I have not needed this gentleman’s + assistance,” and he turned to Corentin. “I will wait on His Majesty for + his commands with regard to the last steps in the matter, which will lie + with the Keeper of the Seals, as two reprieves will need signing.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been wise to take the initiative,” said des Lupeaulx, shaking + hands with the Comte de Granville. “On the very eve of a great undertaking + the King is most anxious that the peers and the great families should not + be shown up, blown upon. It ceases to be a low criminal case; it becomes + an affair of State.” + </p> + <p> + “But tell the Prince that by the time you came it was all settled.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you, my dear fellow, will be Keeper of the Seals as soon as the + present Keeper is made Chancellor——” + </p> + <p> + “I have no ambition,” replied the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + Des Lupeaulx laughed, and went away. + </p> + <p> + “Beg of the Prince to request the King to grant me ten minutes’ audience + at about half-past two,” added Monsieur de Granville, as he accompanied + the Comte des Lupeaulx to the door. + </p> + <p> + “So you are not ambitious!” said des Lupeaulx, with a keen look at + Monsieur de Granville. “Come, you have two children, you would like at + least to be made peer of France.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have the letters, Monsieur le Procureur General, my intervention + is unnecessary,” said Corentin, finding himself alone with Monsieur de + Granville, who looked at him with very natural curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Such a man as you can never be superfluous in so delicate a case,” + replied the magistrate, seeing that Corentin had heard or guessed + everything. + </p> + <p> + Corentin bowed with a patronizing air. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the man in question, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur le Comte, it is Jacques Collin, the head of the ‘Ten + Thousand Francs Association,’ the banker for three penal settlements, a + convict who, for the last five years, has succeeded in concealing himself + under the robe of the Abbe Carlos Herrera. How he ever came to be + intrusted with a mission to the late King from the King of Spain is a + question which we have all puzzled ourselves with trying to answer. I am + now expecting information from Madrid, whither I have sent notes and a + man. That convict holds the secrets of two kings.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a man of mettle and temper. We have only two courses open to us,” + said the public prosecutor. “We must secure his fidelity, or get him out + of the way.” + </p> + <p> + “The same idea has struck us both, and that is a great honor for me,” said + Corentin. “I am obliged to have so many ideas, and for so many people, + that out of them all I ought occasionally to meet a clever man.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke so drily, and in so icy a tone, that Monsieur de Granville made + no reply, and proceeded to attend to some pressing matters. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Jacqueline Collin’s amazement on seeing Jacques Collin in the + <i>Salle des Pas-Perdus</i> is beyond imagining. She stood square on her + feet, her hands on her hips, for she was dressed as a costermonger. + Accustomed as she was to her nephew’s conjuring tricks, this beat + everything. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you are going to stare at me as if I were a natural history + show,” said Jacques Collin, taking his aunt by the arm and leading her out + of the hall, “we shall be taken for a pair of curious specimens; they may + take us into custody, and then we should lose time.” + </p> + <p> + And he went down the stairs of the Galerie Marchande leading to the Rue de + la Barillerie. “Where is Paccard?” + </p> + <p> + “He is waiting for me at la Rousse’s, walking up and down the flower + market.” + </p> + <p> + “And Prudence?” + </p> + <p> + “Also at her house, as my god-daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go there.” + </p> + <p> + “Look round and see if we are watched.” + </p> + <p> + La Rousse, a hardware dealer living on the Quai aux Fleurs, was the widow + of a famous murderer, one of the “Ten Thousand.” In 1819, Jacques Collin + had faithfully handed over twenty thousand francs and odd to this woman + from her lover, after he had been executed. <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> was the + only person who knew of his pal’s connection with the girl, at that time a + milliner. + </p> + <p> + “I am your young man’s boss,” the boarder at Madame Vauquer’s had told + her, having sent for her to meet him at the Jardin des Plantes. “He may + have mentioned me to you, my dear.—Any one who plays me false dies + within a year; on the other hand, those who are true to me have nothing to + fear from me. I am staunch through thick and thin, and would die without + saying a word that would compromise anybody I wish well to. Stick to me as + a soul sticks to the Devil, and you will find the benefit of it. I + promised your poor Auguste that you should be happy; he wanted to make you + a rich woman, and he got scragged for your sake. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry; listen to me. No one in the world knows that you were mistress + to a convict, to the murderer they choked off last Saturday; and I shall + never tell. You are two-and-twenty, and pretty, and you have twenty-six + thousand francs of your own; forget Auguste and get married; be an honest + woman if you can. In return for peace and quiet, I only ask you to serve + me now and then, me, and any one I may send you, but without stopping to + think. I will never ask you to do anything that can get you into trouble, + you or your children, or your husband, if you get one, or your family. + </p> + <p> + “In my line of life I often want a safe place to talk in or to hide in. Or + I may want a trusty woman to carry a letter or do an errand. You will be + one of my letter-boxes, one of my porters’ lodges, one of my messengers, + neither more nor less. + </p> + <p> + “You are too red-haired; Auguste and I used to call you la Rousse; you can + keep that name. My aunt, an old-clothes dealer at the Temple, who will + come and see you, is the only person in the world you are to obey; tell + her everything that happens to you; she will find you a husband, and be + very useful to you.” + </p> + <p> + And thus the bargain was struck, a diabolical compact like that which had + for so long bound Prudence Servien to Jacques Collin, and which the man + never failed to tighten; for, like the Devil, he had a passion for + recruiting. + </p> + <p> + In about 1821 Jacques Collin found la Rousse a husband in the person of + the chief shopman under a rich wholesale tin merchant. This head-clerk, + having purchased his master’s house of business, was now a prosperous man, + the father of two children, and one of the district Maire’s deputies. La + Rousse, now Madame Prelard, had never had the smallest ground for + complaint, either of Jacques Collin or of his aunt; still, each time she + was required to help them, Madame Prelard quaked in every limb. So, as she + saw the terrible couple come into her shop, she turned as pale as death. + </p> + <p> + “We want to speak to you on business, madame,” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “My husband is in there,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Very well; we have no immediate need of you. I never put people out of + their way for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Send for a hackney coach, my dear,” said Jacqueline Collin, “and tell my + god-daughter to come down. I hope to place her as maid to a very great + lady, and the steward of the house will take us there.” + </p> + <p> + A shop-boy fetched the coach, and a few minutes later Europe, or, to be + rid of the name under which she had served Esther, Prudence Servien, + Paccard, Jacques Collin, and his aunt, were, to la Rousse’s great joy, + packed into a coach, ordered by <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> to drive to the + Barriere d’Ivry. + </p> + <p> + Prudence and Paccard, quaking in presence of the boss, felt like guilty + souls in the presence of God. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs?” asked the boss, + looking at them with the clear, penetrating gaze which so effectually + curdled the blood of these tools of his, these ames damnees, when they + were caught tripping, that they felt as though their scalp were set with + as many pins as hairs. + </p> + <p> + “The seven hundred and <i>thirty</i> thousand francs,” said Jacqueline + Collin to her nephew, “are quite safe; I gave them to la Romette this + morning in a sealed packet.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had not handed them over to Jacqueline,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, + “you would have gone straight there,” and he pointed to the Place de + Greve, which they were just passing. + </p> + <p> + Prudence Servien, in her country fashion, made the sign of the Cross, as + if she had seen a thunderbolt fall. + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you,” said the boss, “on condition of your committing no more + mistakes of this kind, and of your being henceforth to me what these two + fingers are of my right hand,” and he pointed to the first and middle + fingers, “for this good woman is the thumb,” and he slapped his aunt on + the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he went on. “You, Paccard, have nothing more to fear; you + may follow your nose about Pantin (Paris) as you please. I give you leave + to marry Prudence Servien.” + </p> + <p> + Paccard took Jacques Collin’s hand and kissed it respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “And what must I do?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; and you will have dividends and women, to say nothing of your + wife—for you have a touch of the Regency about you, old boy!—That + comes of being such a fine man!” + </p> + <p> + Paccard colored under his sultan’s ironical praises. + </p> + <p> + “You, Prudence,” Jacques went on, “will want a career, a position, a + future; you must remain in my service. Listen to me. There is a very good + house in the Rue Sainte-Barbe belonging to that Madame de Saint-Esteve, + whose name my aunt occasionally borrows. It is a very good business, with + plenty of custom, bringing in fifteen to twenty thousand francs a year. + Saint-Esteve puts a woman in to keep the shop——” + </p> + <p> + “La Gonore,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Poor la Pouraille’s moll,” said Paccard. “That is where I bolted to with + Europe the day that poor Madame van Bogseck died, our mis’ess.” + </p> + <p> + “Who jabbers when I am speaking?” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + Perfect silence fell in the coach. Paccard and Prudence did not dare look + at each other. + </p> + <p> + “The shop is kept by la Gonore,” Jacques Collin went on. “If that is where + you went to hide with Prudence, I see, Paccard, that you have wit enough + to dodge the reelers (mislead the police), but not enough to puzzle the + old lady,” and he stroked his aunt’s chin. “Now I see how she managed to + find you.—It all fits beautifully. You may go back to la Gonore.—To + go on: Jacqueline will arrange with Madame Nourrisson to purchase her + business in the Rue Sainte-Barbe; and if you manage well, child, you may + make a fortune out of it,” he said to Prudence. “An Abbess at your age! It + is worthy of a Daughter of France,” he added in a hard tone. + </p> + <p> + Prudence flung her arms round <i>Trompe-la-Mort’s</i> neck and hugged him; + but the boss flung her off with a sharp blow, showing his extraordinary + strength, and but for Paccard, the girl’s head would have struck and + broken the coach window. + </p> + <p> + “Paws off! I don’t like such ways,” said the boss stiffly. “It is + disrespectful to me.” + </p> + <p> + “He is right, child,” said Paccard. “Why, you see, it is as though the + boss had made you a present of a hundred thousand francs. The shop is + worth that. It is on the Boulevard, opposite the Gymnase. The people come + out of the theatre——” + </p> + <p> + “I will do more,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>; “I will buy the house.” + </p> + <p> + “And in six years we shall be millionaires,” cried Paccard. + </p> + <p> + Tired of being interrupted, <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> gave Paccard’s shin a + kick hard enough to break it; but the man’s tendons were of india-rubber, + and his bones of wrought iron. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boss, mum it is,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am cramming you with lies?” said Jacques Collin, + perceiving that Paccard had had a few drops too much. “Well, listen. In + the cellar of that house there are two hundred and fifty thousand francs + in gold——” + </p> + <p> + Again silence reigned in the coach. + </p> + <p> + “The coin is in a very hard bed of masonry. It must be got out, and you + have only three nights to do it in. Jacqueline will help you.—A + hundred thousand francs will buy up the business, fifty thousand will pay + for the house; leave the remainder.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” said Paccard. + </p> + <p> + “In the cellar?” asked Prudence. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” cried Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but to get the business transferred, we must have the consent of the + police authorities,” Paccard objected. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have it,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>. “Don’t meddle in what does + not concern you.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline looked at her nephew, and was struck by the alteration in his + face, visible through the stern mask under which the strong man generally + hid his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “You, child,” said he to Prudence Servien, “will receive from my aunt the + seven hundred and fifty thousand francs——” + </p> + <p> + “Seven hundred and thirty,” said Paccard. + </p> + <p> + “Very good, seven hundred and thirty then,” said Jacques Collin. “You must + return this evening under some pretext to Madame Lucien’s house. Get out + on the roof through the skylight; get down the chimney into your miss’ess’ + room, and hide the packet she had made of the money in the mattress——” + </p> + <p> + “And why not by the door?” asked Prudence Servien. + </p> + <p> + “Idiot! there are seals on everything,” replied Jacques Collin. “In a few + days the inventory will be taken, and you will be innocent of the theft.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for the boss!” cried Paccard. “That is really kind!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, coachman!” cried Jacques Collin’s powerful voice. + </p> + <p> + The coach was close to the stand by the Jardin des Plantes. + </p> + <p> + “Be off, young ‘uns,” said Jacques Collin, “and do nothing silly! Be on + the Pont des Arts this afternoon at five, and my aunt will let you know if + there are any orders to the contrary.—We must be prepared for + everything,” he whispered to his aunt. “To-morrow,” he went on, + “Jacqueline will tell you how to dig up the gold without any risk. It is a + ticklish job——” + </p> + <p> + Paccard and Prudence jumped out on to the King’s highway, as happy as + reprieved thieves. + </p> + <p> + “What a good fellow the boss is!” said Paccard. + </p> + <p> + “He would be the king of men if he were not so rough on women.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! He is a sweet creature,” said Paccard. “Did you see how he + kicked me? Well, we deserved to be sent to old Nick; for, after all, we + got him into this scrape.” + </p> + <p> + “If only he does not drag us into some dirty job, and get us packed off to + the hulks yet,” said the wily Prudence. + </p> + <p> + “Not he! If he had that in his head, he would tell us; you don’t know him.—He + has provided handsomely for you. Here we are, citizens at large! Oh, when + that man takes a fancy to you, he has not his match for good-nature.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, my jewel,” said Jacques Collin to his aunt, “you must take la Gonore + in hand; she must be humbugged. Five days hence she will be taken into + custody, and a hundred and fifty thousand francs will be found in her + rooms, the remains of a share from the robbery and murder of the old + Crottat couple, the notary’s father and mother.” + </p> + <p> + “She will get five years in the Madelonnettes,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “That’s about it,” said the nephew. “This will be a reason for old + Nourrisson to get rid of her house; she cannot manage it herself, and a + manager to suit is not to be found every day. You can arrange all that. We + shall have a sharp eye there.—But all these three things are + secondary to the business I have undertaken with regard to our letters. So + unrip your gown and give me the samples of the goods. Where are the three + packets?” + </p> + <p> + “At la Rousse’s, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Coachman,” cried Jacques Collin, “go back to the Palais de Justice, and + look sharp—— + </p> + <p> + “I promised to be quick, and I have been gone half an hour; that is too + much.—Stay at la Rousse’s, and give the sealed parcels to the office + clerk, who will come and ask for Madame <i>de</i> Saint-Esteve; the <i>de</i> + will be the password. He will say to you, ‘Madame, I have come from the + public prosecutor for the things you know of.’ Stand waiting outside the + door, staring about at what is going on in the Flower-Market, so as not to + arouse Prelard’s suspicions. As soon as you have given up the letters, you + can start Paccard and Prudence.” + </p> + <p> + “I see what you are at,” said Jacqueline; “you mean to step into + Bibi-Lupin’s shoes. That boy’s death has turned your brain.” + </p> + <p> + “And there is Theodore, who was just going to have his hair cropped to be + scragged at four this afternoon!” cried Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a notion! We shall end our days as honest folks in a fine + property and a delightful climate—in Touraine.” + </p> + <p> + “What was to become of me? Lucien has taken my soul with him, and all my + joy in life. I have thirty years before me to be sick of life in, and I + have no heart left. Instead of being the boss of the hulks, I shall be a + Figaro of the law, and avenge Lucien. I can never be sure of demolishing + Corentin excepting in the skin of a police agent. And so long as I have a + man to devour, I shall still feel alive.—The profession a man + follows in the eyes of the world is a mere sham; the reality is in the + idea!” he added, striking his forehead.—“How much have we left in + the cash-box?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said his aunt, dismayed by the man’s tone and manner. “I gave + you all I had for the boy. La Romette has not more than twenty thousand + francs left in the business. I took everything from Madame Nourrisson; she + had about sixty thousand francs of her own. Oh! we are lying in sheets + that have been washed this twelve months past. That boy had all the pals’ + blunt, our savings, and all old Nourrisson’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Making——?” + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred and sixty thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “We have a hundred and fifty thousand which Paccard and Prudence will pay + us. I will tell you where to find two hundred thousand more. The remainder + will come to me out of Esther’s money. We must repay old Nourrisson. With + Theodore, Paccard, Prudence, Nourrisson, and you, I shall soon have the + holy alliance I require.—Listen, now we are nearly there——” + </p> + <p> + “Here are the three letters,” said Jacqueline, who had finished unsewing + the lining of her gown. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right,” said Jacques Collin, taking the three precious documents—autograph + letters on vellum paper, and still strongly scented. “Theodore did the + Nanterre job.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it was he.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk. Time is precious. He wanted to give the proceeds to a little + Corsican sparrow named Ginetta. You must set old Nourrisson to find her; I + will give you the necessary information in a letter which Gault will give + you. Come for it to the gate of the Conciergerie in two hours’ time. You + must place the girl with a washerwoman, Godet’s sister; she must seem at + home there. Godet and Ruffard were concerned with la Pouraille in robbing + and murdering the Crottats. + </p> + <p> + “The four hundred and fifty thousand francs are all safe, one-third in la + Gonore’s cellar—la Pouraille’s share; the second third in la + Gonore’s bedroom, which is Ruffard’s; and the rest is hidden in Godet’s + sister’s house. We will begin by taking a hundred and fifty thousand + francs out of la Pouraille’s whack, a hundred thousand of Godet’s, and a + hundred thousand of Ruffard’s. As soon as Godet and Ruffard are nabbed, + they will be supposed to have got rid of what is missing from their + shares. And I will make Godet believe that I have saved a hundred thousand + francs for him, and that la Gonore has done the same for la Pouraille and + Ruffard. + </p> + <p> + “Prudence and Paccard will do the job at la Gonore’s; you and Ginetta—who + seems to be a smart hussy—must manage the job at Godet’s sister’s + place. + </p> + <p> + “And so, as the first act in the farce, I can enable the public prosecutor + to lay his hands on four hundred thousand francs stolen from the Crottats, + and on the guilty parties. Then I shall seem to have shown up the Nanterre + murderer. We shall get back our shiners, and are behind the scenes with + the police. We were the game, now we are the hunters—that is all. + </p> + <p> + “Give the driver three francs.” + </p> + <p> + The coach was at the Palais. Jacqueline, speechless with astonishment, + paid. <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> went up the steps to the public prosecutor’s + room. + </p> + <p> + A complete change of life is so violent a crisis, that Jacques Collin, in + spite of his resolution, mounted the steps but slowly, going up from the + Rue de la Barillerie to the Galerie Marchande, where, under the gloomy + peristyle of the courthouse, is the entrance to the Court itself. + </p> + <p> + Some civil case was going on which had brought a little crowd together at + the foot of the double stairs leading to the Assize Court, so that the + convict, lost in thought, stood for some minutes, checked by the throng. + </p> + <p> + To the left of this double flight is one of the mainstays of the building, + like an enormous pillar, and in this tower is a little door. This door + opens on a spiral staircase down to the Conciergerie, to which the public + prosecutor, the governor of the prison, the presiding judges, King’s + council, and the chief of the Safety department have access by this back + way. + </p> + <p> + It was up a side staircase from this, now walled up, that Marie + Antoinette, the Queen of France, was led before the Revolutionary tribunal + which sat, as we all know, in the great hall where appeals are now heard + before the Supreme Court. The heart sinks within us at the sight of these + dreadful steps, when we think that Marie Therese’s daughter, whose suite, + and head-dress, and hoops filled the great staircase at Versailles, once + passed that way! Perhaps it was in expiation of her mother’s crime—the + atrocious division of Poland. The sovereigns who commit such crimes + evidently never think of the retribution to be exacted by Providence. + </p> + <p> + When Jacques Collin went up the vaulted stairs to the public prosecutor’s + room, Bibi-Lupin was just coming out of the little door in the wall. + </p> + <p> + The chief of the “Safety” had come from the Conciergerie, and was also + going up to Monsieur de Granville. It was easy to imagine Bibi-Lupin’s + surprise when he recognized, in front of him, the gown of Carlos Herrera, + which he had so thoroughly studied that morning; he ran on to pass him. + Jacques Collin turned round, and the enemies were face to face. Each stood + still, and the self-same look flashed in both pairs of eyes, so different + in themselves, as in a duel two pistols go off at the same instant. + </p> + <p> + “This time I have got you, rascal!” said the chief of the Safety + Department. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha!” replied Jacques Collin ironically. + </p> + <p> + It flashed through his mind that Monsieur de Granville had sent some one + to watch him, and, strange to say, it pained him to think the magistrate + less magnanimous than he had supposed. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin bravely flew at Jacques Collin’s throat; but he, keeping his + eye on the foe, gave him a straight blow, and sent him sprawling on his + back three yards off; then <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> went calmly up to + Bibi-Lupin, and held out a hand to help him rise, exactly like an English + boxer who, sure of his superiority, is ready for more. Bibi-Lupin knew + better than to call out; but he sprang to his feet, ran to the entrance to + the passage, and signed to a gendarme to stand on guard. Then, swift as + lightning, he came back to the foe, who quietly looked on. Jacques Collin + had decided what to do. + </p> + <p> + “Either the public prosecutor has broken his word, or he had not taken + Bibi-Lupin into his confidence, and in that case I must get the matter + explained,” thought he.—“Do you mean to arrest me?” he asked his + enemy. “Say so without more ado. Don’t I know that in the heart of this + place you are stronger than I am? I could kill you with a well-placed + kick, but I could not tackle the gendarmes and the soldiers. Now, make no + noise. Where to you want to take me?” + </p> + <p> + “To Monsieur Camusot.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along to Monsieur Camusot,” replied Jacques Collin. “Why should we + not go to the public prosecutor’s court? It is nearer,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin, who knew that he was out of favor with the upper ranks of + judicial authorities, and suspected of having made a fortune at the + expense of criminals and their victims, was not unwilling to show himself + in Court with so notable a capture. + </p> + <p> + “All right, we will go there,” said he. “But as you surrender, allow me to + fit you with bracelets. I am afraid of your claws.” + </p> + <p> + And he took the handcuffs out of his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin held out his hands, and Bibi-Lupin snapped on the manacles. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, since you are feeling so good,” said he, “tell me how you got + out of the Conciergerie?” + </p> + <p> + “By the way you came; down the turret stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Then have you taught the gendarmes some new trick?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Monsieur de Granville let me out on parole.” + </p> + <p> + “You are gammoning me?” + </p> + <p> + “You will see. Perhaps it will be your turn to wear the bracelets.” + </p> + <p> + Just then Corentin was saying to Monsieur de Granville: + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, it is just an hour since our man set out; are you not + afraid that he may have fooled you? He is on the road to Spain perhaps by + this time, and we shall not find him there, for Spain is a whimsical kind + of country.” + </p> + <p> + “Either I know nothing of men, or he will come back; he is bound by every + interest; he has more to look for at my hands than he has to give.” + </p> + <p> + Bibi-Lupin walked in. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte,” said he, “I have good news for you. Jacques Collin, + who had escaped, has been recaptured.” + </p> + <p> + “And this,” said Jacques Collin, addressing Monsieur de Granville, “is the + way you keep your word!—Ask your double-faced agent where he took + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” said the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “Close to the Court, in the vaulted passage,” said Bibi-Lupin. + </p> + <p> + “Take your irons off the man,” said Monsieur de Granville sternly. “And + remember that you are to leave him free till further orders.—Go!—You + have a way of moving and acting as if you alone were law and police in + one.” + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor turned his back on Bibi-Lupin, who became deadly + pale, especially at a look from Jacques Collin, in which he read disaster. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been out of this room. I expected you back, and you cannot + doubt that I have kept my word, as you kept yours,” said Monsieur de + Granville to the convict. + </p> + <p> + “For a moment I did doubt you, sir, and in my place perhaps you would have + thought as I did, but on reflection I saw that I was unjust. I bring you + more than you can give me; you had no interest in betraying me.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate flashed a look at Corentin. This glance, which could not + escape <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, who was watching Monsieur de Granville, + directed his attention to the strange little old man sitting in an + armchair in a corner. Warned at once by the swift and anxious instinct + that scents the presence of an enemy, Collin examined this figure; he saw + at a glance that the eyes were not so old as the costume would suggest, + and he detected a disguise. In one second Jacques Collin was revenged on + Corentin for the rapid insight with which Corentin had unmasked him at + Peyrade’s. + </p> + <p> + “We are not alone!” said Jacques Collin to Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the magistrate drily. + </p> + <p> + “And this gentleman is one of my oldest acquaintances, I believe,” replied + the convict. + </p> + <p> + He went forward, recognizing Corentin, the real and confessed originator + of Lucien’s overthrow. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin, whose face was of a brick-red hue, for a scarcely + perceptible moment turned white, almost ashy; all his blood rushed to his + heart, so furious and maddening was his longing to spring on this + dangerous reptile and crush it; but he controlled the brutal impulse, + suppressing it with the force that made him so formidable. He put on a + polite manner and the tone of obsequious civility which he had practised + since assuming the garb of a priest of a superior Order, and he bowed to + the little old man. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Corentin,” said he, “do I owe the pleasure of this meeting to + chance, or am I so happy as to be the cause of your visit here?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville’s astonishment was at its height, and he could not + help staring at the two men who had thus come face to face. Jacques + Collin’s behavior and the tone in which he spoke denoted a crisis, and he + was curious to know the meaning of it. On being thus suddenly and + miraculously recognized, Corentin drew himself up like a snake when you + tread on its tail. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is I, my dear Abbe Carlos Herrera.” + </p> + <p> + “And are you here,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, “to interfere between + monsieur the public prosecutor and me? Am I so happy as to be the object + of one of those negotiations in which your talents shine so brightly?—Here, + Monsieur le Comte,” the convict went on, “not to waste time so precious as + yours is, read these—they are samples of my wares.” + </p> + <p> + And he held out to Monsieur de Granville three letters, which he took out + of his breast-pocket. + </p> + <p> + “And while you are studying them, I will, with your permission, have a + little talk with this gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “You do me great honor,” said Corentin, who could not help giving a little + shiver. + </p> + <p> + “You achieved a perfect success in our business,” said Jacques Collin. “I + was beaten,” he added lightly, in the tone of a gambler who has lost his + money, “but you left some men on the field—your victory cost you + dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Corentin, taking up the jest, “you lost your queen, and I lost + my two castles.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Contenson was a mere pawn,” said Jacques Collin scornfully; “you may + easily replace him. You really are—allow me to praise you to your + face—you are, on my word of honor, a magnificent man.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I bow to your superiority,” replied Corentin, assuming the air of + a professional joker, as if he said, “If you mean humbug, by all means + humbug! I have everything at my command, while you are single-handed, so + to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh!” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “And you were very near winning the day!” said Corentin, noticing the + exclamation. “You are quite the most extraordinary man I ever met in my + life, and I have seen many very extraordinary men, for those I have to + work with me are all remarkable for daring and bold scheming. + </p> + <p> + “I was, for my sins, very intimate with the late Duc d’Otranto; I have + worked for Louis XVIII. when he was on the throne; and, when he was + exiled, for the Emperor and for the Directory. You have the tenacity of + Louvel, the best political instrument I ever met with; but you are as + supple as the prince of diplomates. And what auxiliaries you have! I would + give many a head to the guillotine if I could have in my service the cook + who lived with poor little Esther.—And where do you find such + beautiful creatures as the woman who took the Jewess’ place for Monsieur + de Nucingen? I don’t know where to get them when I want them.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, monsieur, you overpower me,” said Jacques Collin. “Such praise + from you will turn my head——” + </p> + <p> + “It is deserved. Why, you took in Peyrade; he believed you to be a police + officer—he!—I tell you what, if you had not that fool of a boy + to take care of, you would have thrashed us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! monsieur, but you are forgetting Contenson disguised as a mulatto, + and Peyrade as an Englishman. Actors have the stage to help them, but to + be so perfect by daylight, and at all hours, no one but you and your men——” + </p> + <p> + “Come, now,” said Corentin, “we are fully convinced of our worth and + merits. And here we stand each of us quite alone; I have lost my old + friend, you your young companion. I, for the moment, am in the stronger + position, why should we not do like the men in <i>l’Auberge des Adrets</i>? + I offer you my hand, and say, ‘Let us embrace, and let bygones be + bygones.’ Here, in the presence of Monsieur le Comte, I propose to give + you full and plenary absolution, and you shall be one of my men, the chief + next to me, and perhaps my successor.” + </p> + <p> + “You really offer me a situation?” said Jacques Collin. “A nice situation + indeed!—out of the fire into the frying-pan!” + </p> + <p> + “You will be in a sphere where your talents will be highly appreciated and + well paid for, and you will act at your ease. The Government police are + not free from perils. I, as you see me, have already been imprisoned + twice, but I am none the worse for that. And we travel, we are what we + choose to appear. We pull the wires of political dramas, and are treated + with politeness by very great people.—Come, my dear Jacques Collin, + do you say yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you orders to act in this matter?” said the convict. + </p> + <p> + “I have a free hand,” replied Corentin, delighted at his own happy idea. + </p> + <p> + “You are trifling with me; you are very shrewd, and you must allow that a + man may be suspicious of you.—You have sold more than one man by + tying him up in a sack after making him go into it of his own accord. I + know all your great victories—the Montauran case, the Simeuse + business—the battles of Marengo of espionage.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Corentin, “you have some esteem for the public prosecutor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jacques Collin, bowing respectfully, “I admire his noble + character, his firmness, his dignity. I would give my life to make him + happy. Indeed, to begin with, I will put an end to the dangerous condition + in which Madame de Serizy now is.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville turned to him with a look of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Then ask him,” Corentin went on, “if I have not full power to snatch you + from the degrading position in which you stand, and to attach you to me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite true,” said Monsieur de Granville, watching the convict. + </p> + <p> + “Really and truly! I may have absolution for the past and a promise of + succeeding to you if I give sufficient evidence of my intelligence?” + </p> + <p> + “Between two such men as we are there can be no misunderstanding,” said + Corentin, with a lordly air that might have taken anybody in. + </p> + <p> + “And the price of the bargain is, I suppose, the surrender of those three + packets of letters?” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “I did not think it would be necessary to say so to you——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Monsieur Corentin,” said <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i>, with irony worthy + of that which made the fame of Talma in the part of Nicomede, “I beg to + decline. I am indebted to you for the knowledge of what I am worth, and of + the importance you attach to seeing me deprived of my weapons—I will + never forget it. + </p> + <p> + “At all times and for ever I shall be at your service, but instead of + saying with Robert Macaire, ‘Let us embrace!’ I embrace you.” + </p> + <p> + He seized Corentin round the middle so suddenly that the other could not + avoid the hug; he clutched him to his heart like a doll, kissed him on + both cheeks, carried him like a feather with one hand, while with the + other he opened the door, and then set him down outside, quite battered by + this rough treatment. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, my dear fellow,” said Jacques Collin in a low voice, and in + Corentin’s ear: “the length of three corpses parts you from me; we have + measured swords, they are of the same temper and the same length. Let us + treat each other with due respect; but I mean to be your equal, not your + subordinate. Armed as you would be, it strikes me you would be too + dangerous a general for your lieutenant. We will place a grave between us. + Woe to you if you come over on to my territory! + </p> + <p> + “You call yourself the State, as footmen call themselves by their master’s + names. For my part, I will call myself Justice. We shall often meet; let + us treat each other with dignity and propriety—all the more because + we shall always remain—atrocious blackguards,” he added in a + whisper. “I set you the example by embracing you——” + </p> + <p> + Corentin stood nonplussed for the first time in his life, and allowed his + terrible antagonist to wring his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If so,” said he, “I think it will be to our interest on both sides to + remain chums.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall be stronger each on our own side, but at the same time more + dangerous,” added Jacques Collin in an undertone. “And you will allow me + to call on you to-morrow to ask for some pledge of our agreement.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Corentin amiably, “you are taking the case out of my + hands to place it in those of the public prosecutor. You will help him to + promotion; but I cannot but own to you that you are acting wisely.—Bibi-Lupin + is too well known; he has served his turn; if you get his place, you will + have the only situation that suits you. I am delighted to see you in it—on + my honor——” + </p> + <p> + “Till our next meeting, very soon,” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + On turning round, <i>Trompe-la-Mort</i> saw the public prosecutor sitting + at his table, his head resting on his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that you can save the Comtesse de Serizy from going mad?” + asked Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “In five minutes,” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “And you can give me all those ladies’ letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you read the three?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the magistrate vehemently, “and I blush for the women who + wrote them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we are now alone; admit no one, and let us come to terms,” said + Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Justice must first take its course. Monsieur Camusot has + instructions to seize your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never find her,” said Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “Search is to be made at the Temple, in the shop of a demoiselle Paccard + who superintends her shop.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will be found there but rags, costumes, diamonds, uniforms——However, + it will be as well to check Monsieur Camusot’s zeal.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville rang, and sent an office messenger to desire + Monsieur Camusot to come and speak with him. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he to Jacques Collin, “an end to all this! I want to know your + recipe for curing the Countess.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte,” said the convict very gravely, “I was, as you know, + sentenced to five years’ penal servitude for forgery. But I love my + liberty.—This passion, like every other, had defeated its own end, + for lovers who insist on adoring each other too fondly end by quarreling. + By dint of escaping and being recaptured alternately, I have served seven + years on the hulks. So you have nothing to remit but the added terms I + earned in quod—I beg pardon, in prison. I have, in fact, served my + time, and till some ugly job can be proved against me,—which I defy + Justice to do, or even Corentin—I ought to be reinstated in my + rights as a French citizen. + </p> + <p> + “What is life if I am banned from Paris and subject to the eye of the + police? Where can I go, what can I do? You know my capabilities. You have + seen Corentin, that storehouse of treachery and wile, turn ghastly pale + before me, and doing justice to my powers.—That man has bereft me of + everything; for it was he, and he alone, who overthrew the edifice of + Lucien’s fortunes, by what means and in whose interest I know not.—Corentin + and Camusot did it all——” + </p> + <p> + “No recriminations,” said Monsieur de Granville; “give me the facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, these are the facts. Last night, as I held in my hand the icy + hand of that dead youth, I vowed to myself that I would give up the mad + contest I have kept up for twenty years past against society at large. + </p> + <p> + “You will not believe me capable of religious sentimentality after what I + have said of my religious opinions. Still, in these twenty years I have + seen a great deal of the seamy side of the world. I have known its + back-stairs, and I have discerned, in the march of events, a Power which + you call Providence and I call Chance, and which my companions call Luck. + Every evil deed, however quickly it may hide its traces, is overtaken by + some retribution. In this struggle for existence, when the game is going + well—when you have quint and quartorze in your hand and the lead—the + candle tumbles over and the cards are burned, or the player has a fit of + apoplexy!—That is Lucien’s story. That boy, that angel, had not + committed the shadow of a crime; he let himself be led, he let things go! + He was to marry Mademoiselle de Grandlieu, to be made marquis; he had a + fine fortune;—well, a prostitute poisons herself, she hides the + price of a certificate of stock, and the whole structure so laboriously + built up crumbles in an instant. + </p> + <p> + “And who is the first man to deal a blow? A man loaded with secret infamy, + a monster who, in the world of finance, has committed such crimes that + every coin of his vast fortune has been dipped in the tears of a whole + family [see <i>la Maison Nucingen</i>]—by Nucingen, who has been a + legalized Jacques Collin in the world of money. However, you know as well + as I do all the bankruptcies and tricks for which that man deserves + hanging. My fetters will leave a mark on all my actions, however virtuous. + To be a shuttlecock between two racquets—one called the hulks, and + the other the police—is a life in which success means never-ending + toil, and peace and quiet seem quite impossible. + </p> + <p> + “At this moment, Monsieur de Granville, Jacques Collin is buried with + Lucien, who is being now sprinkled with holy water and carried away to + Pere-Lachaise. What I want is a place not to live in, but to die in. As + things are, you, representing Justice, have never cared to make the + released convict’s social status a concern of any interest. Though the law + may be satisfied, society is not; society is still suspicious, and does + all it can to justify its suspicions; it regards a released convict as an + impossible creature; it ought to restore him to his full rights, but, in + fact, it prohibits his living in certain circles. Society says to the poor + wretch, ‘Paris, which is the only place you can be hidden in; Paris and + its suburbs for so many miles round is the forbidden land, you shall not + live there!’ and it subjects the convict to the watchfulness of the + police. Do you think that life is possible under such conditions? To live, + the convict must work, for he does not come out of prison with a fortune. + </p> + <p> + “You arrange matters so that he is plainly ticketed, recognized, hedged + round, and then you fancy that his fellow-citizens will trust him, when + society and justice and the world around him do not. You condemn him to + starvation or crime. He cannot get work, and is inevitably dragged into + his old ways, which lead to the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + “Thus, while earnestly wishing to give up this struggle with the law, I + could find no place for myself under the sun. One course alone is open to + me, that is to become the servant of the power that crushes us; and as + soon as this idea dawned on me, the Power of which I spoke was shown in + the clearest light. Three great families are at my mercy. Do not suppose I + am thinking of blackmail—blackmail is the meanest form of murder. In + my eyes it is baser villainy than murder. The murderer needs, at any rate, + atrocious courage. And I practise what I preach; for the letters which are + my safe-conduct, which allow me to address you thus, and for the moment + place me on an equality with you—I, Crime, and you, Justice—those + letters are in your power. Your messenger may fetch them, and they will be + given up to him. + </p> + <p> + “I ask no price for them; I do not sell them. Alas! Monsieur le Comte, I + was not thinking of myself when I preserved them; I thought that Lucien + might some day be in danger! If you cannot agree to my request, my courage + is out; I hate life more than enough to make me blow out my own brains and + rid you of me!—Or, with a passport, I can go to America and live in + the wilderness. I have all the characteristics of a savage. + </p> + <p> + “These are the thoughts that came to me in the night.—Your clerk, no + doubt, carried you a message I sent by him. When I saw what precautions + you took to save Lucien’s memory from any stain, I dedicated my life to + you—a poor offering, for I no longer cared for it; it seemed to me + impossible without the star that gave it light, the happiness that + glorified it, the thought that gave it meaning, the prosperity of the + young poet who was its sun—and I determined to give you the three + packets of letters——” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville bowed his head. + </p> + <p> + “I went down into the prison-yard, and there I found the persons guilty of + the Nanterre crime, as well as my little chain companion within an inch of + the chopper as an involuntary accessory after the fact,” Jacques Collin + went on. “I discovered that Bibi-Lupin is cheating the authorities, that + one of his men murdered the Crottats. Was not this providential, as you + say?—So I perceived a remote possibility of doing good, of turning + my gifts and the dismal experience I have gained to account for the + benefit of society, of being useful instead of mischievous, and I ventured + to confide in your judgment, your generosity.” + </p> + <p> + The man’s air of candor, of artlessness, of childlike simplicity, as he + made his confession, without bitterness, or that philosophy of vice which + had hitherto made him so terrible to hear, was like an absolute + transformation. He was no longer himself. + </p> + <p> + “I have such implicit trust in you,” he went on, with the humility of a + penitent, “that I am wholly at your mercy. You see me with three roads + open to me—suicide, America, and the Rue de Jerusalem. Bibi-Lupin is + rich; he has served his turn; he is a double-faced rascal. And if you set + me to work against him, I would catch him red-handed in some trick within + a week. If you will put me in that sneak’s shoes, you will do society a + real service. I will be honest. I have every quality that is needed in the + profession. I am better educated than Bibi-Lupin; I went through my + schooling up to rhetoric; I shall not blunder as he does; I have very good + manners when I choose. My sole ambition is to become an instrument of + order and repression instead of being the incarnation of corruption. I + will enlist no more recruits to the army of vice. + </p> + <p> + “In war, monsieur, when a hostile general is captured, he is not shot, you + know; his sword is returned to him, and his prison is a large town; well, + I am the general of the hulks, and I have surrendered.—I am beaten, + not by the law, but by death. The sphere in which I crave to live and act + is the only one that is suited to me, and there I can develop the powers I + feel within me. + </p> + <p> + “Decide.” + </p> + <p> + And Jacques Collin stood in an attitude of diffident submission. + </p> + <p> + “You place the letters in my hands, then?” said the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “You have only to send for them; they will be delivered to your + messenger.” + </p> + <p> + “But how?” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin read the magistrate’s mind, and kept up the game. + </p> + <p> + “You promised me to commute the capital sentence on Calvi for twenty + years’ penal servitude. Oh, I am not reminding you of that to drive a + bargain,” he added eagerly, seeing Monsieur de Granville’s expression; + “that life should be safe for other reasons, the lad is innocent——” + </p> + <p> + “How am I to get the letters?” asked the public prosecutor. “It is my + right and my business to convince myself that you are the man you say you + are. I must have you without conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “Send a man you can trust to the Flower Market on the quay. At the door of + a tinman’s shop, under the sign of Achilles’ shield——” + </p> + <p> + “That house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jacques Collin, smiling bitterly, “my shield is there.—Your + man will see an old woman dressed, as I told you before, like a fish-woman + who has saved money—earrings in her ears, and clothes like a rich + market-woman’s. He must ask for Madame de Saint-Esteve. Do not omit the + DE. And he must say, ‘I have come from the public prosecutor to fetch you + know what.’—You will immediately receive three sealed packets.” + </p> + <p> + “All the letters are there?” said Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “There is no tricking you; you did not get your place for nothing!” said + Jacques Collin, with a smile. “I see you still think me capable of testing + you and giving you so much blank paper.—No; you do not know me,” + said he. “I trust you as a son trusts his father.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be taken back to the Conciergerie,” said the magistrate, “and + there await a decision as to your fate.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville rang, and said to the office-boy who answered: + </p> + <p> + “Beg Monsieur Garnery to come here, if he is in his room.” + </p> + <p> + Besides the forty-eight police commissioners who watch over Paris like + forty-eight petty Providences, to say nothing of the guardians of Public + Safety—and who have earned the nickname of quart d’oeil, in thieves’ + slang, a quarter of an eye, because there are four of them to each + district,—besides these, there are two commissioners attached + equally to the police and to the legal authorities, whose duty it is to + undertake delicate negotiation, and not frequently to serve as deputies to + the examining judges. The office of these two magistrates, for police + commissioners are also magistrates, is known as the Delegates’ office; for + they are, in fact, delegated on each occasion, and formally empowered to + carry out inquiries or arrests. + </p> + <p> + These functions demand men of ripe age, proved intelligence, great + rectitude, and perfect discretion; and it is one of the miracles wrought + by Heaven in favor of Paris, that some men of that stamp are always + forthcoming. Any description of the Palais de Justice would be incomplete + without due mention of these <i>preventive</i> officials, as they may be + called, the most powerful adjuncts of the law; for though it must be owned + that the force of circumstances has abrogated the ancient pomp and wealth + of justice, it has materially gained in many ways. In Paris especially its + machinery is admirably perfect. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Granville had sent his secretary, Monsieur de Chargeboeuf, to + attend Lucien’s funeral; he needed a substitute for this business, a man + he could trust, and Monsieur Garnery was one of the commissioners in the + Delegates’ office. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Jacques Collin, “I have already proved to you that I have + a sense of honor. You let me go free, and I came back.—By this time + the funeral mass for Lucien is ended; they will be carrying him to the + grave. Instead of remanding me to the Conciergerie, give me leave to + follow the boy’s body to Pere-Lachaise. I will come back and surrender + myself prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “Go,” said Monsieur de Granville, in the kindest tone. + </p> + <p> + “One word more, monsieur. The money belonging to that girl—Lucien’s + mistress—was not stolen. During the short time of liberty you + allowed me, I questioned her servants. I am sure of them as you are of + your two commissioners of the Delegates’ office. The money paid for the + certificate sold by Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck will certainly be found in + her room when the seals are removed. Her maid remarked to me that the + deceased was given to mystery-making, and very distrustful; she no doubt + hid the banknotes in her bed. Let the bedstead be carefully examined and + taken to pieces, the mattresses unsewn—the money will be found.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of the relative honesty of my rascals; they never play any + tricks on me. I hold the power of life and death; I try and condemn them + and carry out my sentence without all your formalities. You can see for + yourself the results of my authority. I will recover the money stolen from + Monsieur and Madame Crottat; I will hand you over one of Bibi-Lupin’s men, + his right hand, caught in the act; and I will tell you the secret of the + Nanterre murders. This is not a bad beginning. And if you only employ me + in the service of the law and the police, by the end of a year you will be + satisfied with all I can tell you. I will be thoroughly all that I ought + to be, and shall manage to succeed in all the business that is placed in + my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “I can promise you nothing but my goodwill. What you ask is not in my + power. The privilege of granting pardons is the King’s alone, on the + recommendation of the Keeper of the Seals; and the place you wish to hold + is in the gift of the Prefet of Police.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Garnery,” the office-boy announced. + </p> + <p> + At a nod from Monsieur de Granville the Delegate commissioner came in, + glanced at Jacques Collin as one who knows, and gulped down his + astonishment on hearing the word “Go!” spoken to Jacques Collin by + Monsieur de Granville. + </p> + <p> + “Allow me,” said Jacques Collin, “to remain here till Monsieur Garnery has + returned with the documents in which all my strength lies, that I may take + away with me some expression of your satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + This absolute humility and sincerity touched the public prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “Go,” said he; “I can depend on you.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin bowed humbly, with the submissiveness of an inferior to his + master. Ten minutes later, Monsieur de Granville was in possession of the + letters in three sealed packets that had not been opened! But the + importance of this point, and Jacques Collin’s avowal, had made him forget + the convict’s promise to cure Madame de Serizy. + </p> + <p> + When once he was outside, Jacques Collin had an indescribable sense of + satisfaction. He felt he was free, and born to a new phase of life. He + walked quickly from the Palais to the Church of Saint-Germain-des-Pres, + where mass was over. The coffin was being sprinkled with holy water, and + he arrived in time thus to bid farewell, in a Christian fashion, to the + mortal remains of the youth he had loved so well. Then he got into a + carriage and drove after the body to the cemetery. + </p> + <p> + In Paris, unless on very exceptional occasions, or when some famous man + has died a natural death, the crowd that gathers about a funeral + diminishes by degrees as the procession approaches Pere-Lachaise. People + make time to show themselves in church; but every one has his business to + attend to, and returns to it as soon as possible. Thus of ten mourning + carriages, only four were occupied. By the time they reached Pere-Lachaise + there were not more than a dozen followers, among whom was Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “That is right; it is well that you are faithful to him,” said Jacques + Collin to his old acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + Rastignac started with surprise at seeing Vautrin. + </p> + <p> + “Be calm,” said his old fellow-boarder at Madame Vauquer’s. “I am your + slave, if only because I find you here. My help is not to be despised; I + am, or shall be, more powerful than ever. You slipped your cable, and you + did it very cleverly; but you may need me yet, and I will always be at + your service. + </p> + <p> + “But what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To supply the hulks with lodgers instead of lodging there,” replied + Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + Rastignac gave a shrug of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “But if you were robbed——” + </p> + <p> + Rastignac hurried on to get away from Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know what circumstances you may find yourself in.” + </p> + <p> + They stood by the grave dug by the side of Esther’s. + </p> + <p> + “Two beings who loved each other, and who were happy!” said Jacques + Collin. “They are united.—It is some comfort to rot together. I will + be buried here.” + </p> + <p> + When Lucien’s body was lowered into the grave, Jacques Collin fell in a + dead faint. This strong man could not endure the light rattle of the + spadefuls of earth thrown by the gravediggers on the coffin as a hint for + their payment. + </p> + <p> + Just then two men of the corps of Public Safety came up; they recognized + Jacques Collin, lifted him up, and carried him to a hackney coach. + </p> + <p> + “What is up now?” asked Jacques Collin when he recovered consciousness and + had looked about him. + </p> + <p> + He saw himself between two constables, one of whom was Ruffard; and he + gave him a look which pierced the murderer’s soul to the very depths of la + Gonore’s secret. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the public prosecutor wants you,” replied Ruffard, “and we have been + hunting for you everywhere, and found you in the cemetery, where you had + nearly taken a header into that boy’s grave.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin was silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Is it Bibi-Lupin that is after me?” he asked the other man. + </p> + <p> + “No. Monsieur Garnery sent us to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “And he told you nothing?” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other, holding council in expressive pantomime. + </p> + <p> + “Come, what did he say when he gave you your orders?” + </p> + <p> + “He bid us fetch you at once,” said Ruffard, “and said we should find you + at the Church of Saint-Germain-des-Pres; or, if the funeral had left the + church, at the cemetery.” + </p> + <p> + “The public prosecutor wants me?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “That is it,” said Jacques Collin; “he wants my assistance.” + </p> + <p> + And he relapsed into silence, which greatly puzzled the two constables. + </p> + <p> + At about half-past two Jacques Collin once more went up to Monsieur de + Granville’s room, and found there a fresh arrival in the person of + Monsieur de Granville’s predecessor, the Comte Octave de Bauvan, one of + the Presidents of the Court of Appeals. + </p> + <p> + “You forgot Madame de Serizy’s dangerous condition, and that you had + promised to save her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask these rascals in what state they found me, monsieur,” said Jacques + Collin, signing to the two constables to come in. + </p> + <p> + “Unconscious, monsieur, lying on the edge of the grave of the young man + they were burying.” + </p> + <p> + “Save Madame de Serizy,” said the Comte de Bauvan, “and you shall have + what you will.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask for nothing,” said Jacques Collin. “I surrendered at discretion, + and Monsieur de Granville must have received——” + </p> + <p> + “All the letters, yes,” said the magistrate. “But you promised to save + Madame de Serizy’s reason. Can you? Was it not a vain boast?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I can,” replied Jacques Collin modestly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, come with me,” said Comte Octave. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; I will not be seen in the same carriage by your side—I + am still a convict. It is my wish to serve the Law; I will not begin by + discrediting it. Go back to the Countess; I will be there soon after you. + Tell her Lucien’s best friend is coming to see her, the Abbe Carlos + Herrera; the anticipation of my visit will make an impression on her and + favor the cure. You will forgive me for assuming once more the false part + of a Spanish priest; it is to do so much good!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall find you there at about four o’clock,” said Monsieur de + Granville, “for I have to wait on the King with the Keeper of the Seals.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin went off to find his aunt, who was waiting for him on the + Quai aux Fleurs. + </p> + <p> + “So you have given yourself up to the authorities?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a risky game.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I owed that poor Theodore his life, and he is reprieved.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I shall be what I ought to be. I shall always make our set shake + in their shoes.—But we must get to work. Go and tell Paccard to be + off as fast as he can go, and see that Europe does as I told her.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a trifle; I know how to deal with la Gonore,” said the terrible + Jacqueline. “I have not been wasting my time here among the gilliflowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Let Ginetta, the Corsican girl, be found by to-morrow,” Jacques Collin + went on, smiling at his aunt. + </p> + <p> + “I shall want some clue.” + </p> + <p> + “You can get it through Manon la Blonde,” said Jacques. + </p> + <p> + “Then we meet this evening,” replied the aunt, “you are in such a deuce of + a hurry. Is there a fat job on?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to begin with a stroke that will beat everything that Bibi-Lupin + has ever done. I have spoken a few words to the brute who killed Lucien, + and I live only for revenge! Thanks to our positions, he and I shall be + equally strong, equally protected. It will take years to strike the blow, + but the wretch shall have it straight in the heart.” + </p> + <p> + “He must have vowed a Roland for your Oliver,” said the aunt, “for he has + taken charge of Peyrade’s daughter, the girl who was sold to Madame + Nourrisson, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Our first point must be to find him a servant.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be difficult; he must be tolerably wide-awake,” observed + Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Well, hatred keeps one alive! We must work hard.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin took a cab and drove at once to the Quai Malaquais, to the + little room he lodged in, quite separate from Lucien’s apartment. The + porter, greatly astonished at seeing him, wanted to tell him all that had + happened. + </p> + <p> + “I know everything,” said the Abbe. “I have been involved in it, in spite + of my saintly reputation; but, thanks to the intervention of the Spanish + Ambassador, I have been released.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried up to his room, where, from under the cover of a breviary, he + took out a letter that Lucien had written to Madame de Serizy after that + lady had discarded him on seeing him at the opera with Esther. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, in his despair, had decided on not sending this letter, believing + himself cast off for ever; but Jacques Collin had read the little + masterpiece; and as all that Lucien wrote was to him sacred, he had + treasured the letter in his prayer-book for its poetical expression of a + passion that was chiefly vanity. When Monsieur de Granville told him of + Madame de Serizy’s condition, the keen-witted man had very wisely + concluded that this fine lady’s despair and frenzy must be the result of + the quarrel she had allowed to subsist between herself and Lucien. He knew + women as magistrates know criminals; he guessed the most secret impulses + of their hearts; and he at once understood that the Countess probably + ascribed Lucien’s death partly to her own severity, and reproached herself + bitterly. Obviously a man on whom she had shed her love would never have + thrown away his life!—To know that he had loved her still, in spite + of her cruelty, might restore her reason. + </p> + <p> + If Jacques Collin was a grand general of convicts, he was, it must be + owned, a not less skilful physician of souls. + </p> + <p> + This man’s arrival at the mansion of the Serizys was at once a disgrace + and a promise. Several persons, the Count, and the doctors were assembled + in the little drawing-room adjoining the Countess’ bedroom; but to spare + him this stain on his soul’s honor, the Comte de Bauvan dismissed + everybody, and remained alone with his friend. It was bad enough even then + for the Vice-President of the Privy Council to see this gloomy and + sinister visitor come in. + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin had changed his dress. He was in black with trousers, and a + plain frock-coat, and his gait, his look, and his manner were all that + could be wished. He bowed to the two statesmen, and asked if he might be + admitted to see the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “She awaits you with impatience,” said Monsieur de Bauvan. + </p> + <p> + “With impatience! Then she is saved,” said the dreadful magician. + </p> + <p> + And, in fact, after an interview of half an hour, Jacques Collin opened + the door and said: + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Monsieur le Comte; there is nothing further to fear.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess had the letter clasped to her heart; she was calm, and seemed + to have forgiven herself. The Count gave expression to his joy at the + sight. + </p> + <p> + “And these are the men who settle our fate and the fate of nations,” + thought Jacques Collin, shrugging his shoulders behind the two men. “A + female has but to sigh in the wrong way to turn their brain as if it were + a glove! A wink, and they lose their head! A petticoat raised a little + higher, dropped a little lower, and they rush round Paris in despair! The + whims of a woman react on the whole country. Ah, how much stronger is a + man when, like me, he keeps far away from this childish tyranny, from + honor ruined by passion, from this frank malignity, and wiles worthy of + savages! Woman, with her genius for ruthlessness, her talent for torture, + is, and always will be, the marring of man. The public prosecutor, the + minister—here they are, all hoodwinked, all moving the spheres for + some letters written by a duchess and a chit, or to save the reason of a + woman who is more crazy in her right mind than she was in her delirium.” + </p> + <p> + And he smiled haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he to himself, “and they believe in me! They act on my + information, and will leave me in power. I shall still rule the world + which has obeyed me these five-and-twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques Collin had brought into play the overpowering influence he had + exerted of yore over poor Esther; for he had, as has often been shown, the + mode of speech, the look, the action which quell madmen, and he had + depicted Lucien as having died with the Countess’ image in his heart. + </p> + <p> + No woman can resist the idea of having been the one beloved. + </p> + <p> + “You now have no rival,” had been this bitter jester’s last words. + </p> + <p> + He remained a whole hour alone and forgotten in that little room. Monsieur + de Granville arrived and found him gloomy, standing up, and lost in a + brown study, as a man may well be who makes an 18th Brumaire in his life. + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor went to the door of the Countess’ room, and remained + there a few minutes; then he turned to Jacques Collin and said: + </p> + <p> + “You have not changed your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you will take Bibi-Lupin’s place, and Calvi’s sentence will + be commuted.” + </p> + <p> + “And he is not to be sent to Rochefort?” + </p> + <p> + “Not even to Toulon; you may employ him in your service. But these + reprieves and your appointment depend on your conduct for the next six + months as subordinate to Bibi-Lupin.” + </p> + <p> + Within a week Bibi-Lupin’s new deputy had helped the Crottat family to + recover four hundred thousand francs, and had brought Ruffard and Godet to + justice. + </p> + <p> + The price of the certificates sold by Esther Gobseck was found in the + courtesan’s mattress, and Monsieur de Serizy handed over to Jacques Collin + the three hundred thousand francs left to him by Lucien de Rubempre. + </p> + <p> + The monument erected by Lucien’s orders for Esther and himself is + considered one of the finest in Pere-Lachaise, and the earth beneath it + belongs to Jacques Collin. + </p> + <p> + After exercising his functions for about fifteen years Jacques Collin + retired in 1845. + </p> + <h3> + DECEMBER 1847. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ajuda-Pinto, Marquis Miguel d’ + Father Goriot + The Secrets of a Princess + Beatrix + + Bauvan, Comte Octave de + Honorine + + Beaumesnil, Mademoiselle + The Middle Classes + A Second Home + + Beaupre, Fanny + A Start in Life + Modeste Mignon + The Muse of the Department + + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Honorine + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Second Home + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Muse of the Department + The Imaginary Mistress + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Bibi-Lupin (chief of secret police, called himself Gondureau) + Father Goriot + + Bixiou, Jean-Jacques + The Purse + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Government Clerks + Modeste Mignon + The Firm of Nucingen + The Muse of the Department + Cousin Betty + The Member for Arcis + Beatrix + A Man of Business + Gaudissart II. + The Unconscious Humorists + Cousin Pons + + Blondet, Emile + Jealousies of a Country Town + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Modeste Mignon + Another Study of Woman + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + The Firm of Nucingen + The Peasantry + + Bouvard, Doctor + Ursule Mirouet + + Braschon + Cesar Birotteau + + Bridau, Philippe + A Bachelor’s Establishment + + Cachan + Lost Illusions + + Camusot de Marville + Cousin Pons + Jealousies of a Country Town + The Commission in Lunacy + + Camusot de Marville, Madame + The Vendetta + Cesar Birotteau + Jealousies of a Country Town + Cousin Pons + + Cerizet + Lost Illusions + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + + Chardon, Madame (nee Rubempre) + Lost Illusions + + Chatelet, Sixte, Baron du + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Thirteen + + Chaulieu, Henri, Duc de + Letters of Two Brides + Modeste Mignon + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Thirteen + + Collin, Jacqueline + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Collin, Jacques + Father Goriot + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Member for Arcis + + Corentin + The Chouans + The Gondreville Mystery + The Middle Classes + + Crottat, Monsieur and Madame + Cesar Birotteau + + Dauriat + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Modeste Mignon + + Derville + Gobseck + A Start in Life + The Gondreville Mystery + Father Goriot + Colonel Chabert + + Desplein + The Atheist’s Mass + Cousin Pons + Lost Illusions + The Thirteen + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Seamy Side of History + Modeste Mignon + Honorine + + Desroches (son) + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Colonel Chabert + A Start in Life + A Woman of Thirty + The Commission in Lunacy + The Government Clerks + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Firm of Nucingen + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + + Espard, Charles-Maurice-Marie-Andoche, Comte de Negrepelisse, Marquis d’ + The Commission in Lunacy + + Espard, Chevalier d’ + The Commission in Lunacy + The Secrets of a Princess + + Espard, Jeanne-Clementine-Athenais de Blamont-Chauvry, Marquise d’ + The Commission in Lunacy + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Letters of Two Brides + Another Study of Woman + The Gondreville Mystery + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + Beatrix + + Estourny, Charles d’ + Modeste Mignon + A Man of Business + + Falleix, Jacques + The Government Clerks + The Thirteen + + Finot, Andoche + Cesar Birotteau + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + A Start in Life + Gaudissart the Great + The Firm of Nucingen + + Fouche, Joseph + The Chouans + The Gondreville Mystery + + Gaillard, Theodore + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Beatrix + The Unconscious Humorists + + Gaillard, Madame Theodore + Jealousies of a Country Town + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Beatrix + The Unconscious Humorists + + Gaudissart, Felix + Cousin Pons + Cesar Birotteau + Honorine + Gaudissart the Great + + Givry + Letters of Two Brides + The Lily of the Valley + + Gobseck, Esther Van + Gobseck + The Firm of Nucingen + A Bachelor’s Establishment + + Gobseck, Sarah Van + Gobseck + Cesar Birotteau + The Maranas + The Member for Arcis + + Godeschal, Marie + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Start in Life + Cousin Pons + + Grandlieu, Duc Ferdinand de + The Gondreville Mystery + The Thirteen + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Modeste Mignon + + Grandlieu, Duchesse Ferdinand de + Beatrix + A Daughter of Eve + + Grandlieu, Mademoiselle de + A Bachelor’s Establishment + + Grandlieu, Vicomtesse de + Colonel Chabert + Gobseck + + Grandlieu, Vicomte Juste de + Gobseck + + Grandlieu, Vicomtesse Juste de + Gobseck + A Daughter of Eve + + Granville, Vicomte de + The Gondreville Mystery + A Second Home + Farewell (Adieu) + Cesar Birotteau + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Pons + + Granville, Baron Eugene de + A Second Home + + Grindot + Cesar Birotteau + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Start in Life + Beatrix + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + + Herrera, Carlos + Lost Illusions + + Katt + The Middle Classes + + La Peyrade, Charles-Marie-Theodose de + The Middle Classes + + La Peyrade, Madame de + The Middle Classes + + Lebrun + Cousin Pons + + Lenoncourt-Givry, Duchesse de + The Lily of the Valley + Letters of Two Brides + + Louchard + Cousin Pons + + Louis XVIII., Louis-Stanislas-Xavier + The Chouans + The Seamy Side of History + The Gondreville Mystery + The Ball at Sceaux + The Lily of the Valley + Colonel Chabert + The Government Clerks + + Lousteau, Etienne + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Daughter of Eve + Beatrix + The Muse of the Department + Cousin Betty + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + The Unconscious Humorists + + Lupeaulx, Clement Chardin des + The Muse of the Department + Eugenie Grandet + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + Ursule Mirouet + + Madeleine + Cousin Pons + + Marron + Lost Illusions + + Massol + The Magic Skin + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Maufrigneuse, Duc de + The Secrets of a Princess + A Start in Life + A Bachelor’s Establishment + + Maufrigneuse, Duchesse de + The Secrets of a Princess + Modeste Mignon + Jealousies of a Country Town + The Muse of the Department + Letters of Two Brides + Another Study of Woman + The Gondreville Mystery + The Member for Arcis + + Meynardie, Madame + The Thirteen + + Mirbel, Madame de + Letters of Two Brides + The Secrets of a Princess + + Montcornet, Marechal, Comte de + Domestic Peace + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Peasantry + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty + + Nathan, Raoul + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + Letters of Two Brides + The Seamy Side of History + The Muse of the Department + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + The Unconscious Humorists + + Nathan, Madame Raoul + The Muse of the Department + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Ursule Mirouet + Eugenie Grandet + The Imaginary Mistress + A Prince of Bohemia + A Daughter of Eve + The Unconscious Humorists + + Navarreins, Duc de + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Colonel Chabert + The Muse of the Department + The Thirteen + Jealousies of a Country Town + The Peasantry + The Country Parson + The Magic Skin + The Gondreville Mystery + The Secrets of a Princess + Cousin Betty + + Nourrisson, Madame + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Nucingen, Baron Frederic de + The Firm of Nucingen + Father Goriot + Pierrette + Cesar Birotteau + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Another Study of Woman + The Secrets of a Princess + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty + The Muse of the Department + The Unconscious Humorists + + Nucingen, Baronne Delphine de + Father Goriot + The Thirteen + Eugenie Grandet + Cesar Birotteau + Melmoth Reconciled + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Commission in Lunacy + Modeste Mignon + The Firm of Nucingen + Another Study of Woman + A Daughter of Eve + The Member for Arcis + + Peyrade + The Gondreville Mystery + + Poiret, the elder + The Government Clerks + Father Goriot + A Start in Life + The Middle Classes + + Poiret, Madame (nee Christine-Michelle Michonneau) + Father Goriot + The Middle Classes + + Portenduere, Vicomte Savinien de + The Ball at Sceaux + Ursule Mirouet + Beatrix + + Rastignac, Eugene de + Father Goriot + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Ball at Sceaux + The Commission in Lunacy + A Study of Woman + Another Study of Woman + The Magic Skin + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + The Gondreville Mystery + The Firm of Nucingen + Cousin Betty + The Member for Arcis + The Unconscious Humorists + + Rhetore, Duc Alphonse de + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Letters of Two Brides + Albert Savarus + The Member for Arcis + + Rubempre, Lucien-Chardon de + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + Ursule Mirouet + + Schmucke, Wilhelm + A Daughter of Eve + Ursule Mirouet + Cousin Pons + + Sechard, David + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial At Paris + + Sechard, Madame David + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial At Paris + + Selerier + Father Goriot + + Serizy, Comte Hugret de + A Start in Life + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Honorine + Modeste Mignon + + Serizy, Comtesse de + A Start in Life + The Thirteen + Ursule Mirouet + A Woman of Thirty + Another Study of Woman + The Imaginary Mistress + + Tours-Minieres, Bernard-Polydor Bryond, Baron des + The Seamy Side of History + + Vernou, Felicien + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Betty + + Vivet, Madeleine + Cousin Pons +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENES FROM A COURTESAN’S LIFE *** + +***** This file should be named 1660-h.htm or 1660-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/1660/ + +Produced by Dagny, Bonnie Sala, John Bickers, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will 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