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Cour de la Sainte-Chapelle. There is one door under the archway.
Ask there for M. Gondureau."

Bianchon, on his way back from Cuvier's lecture, overheard the
sufficiently strikingnickname of Trompe-la-Mort, and caught the

celebrated chief detective's "Done!"
"Why didn't you close with him? It would be three hundred francs

a year," said Poiret to Mlle. Michonneau.
"Why didn't I?" she asked. "Why, it wants thinking over. Suppose

that M. Vautrin is this Trompe-la-Mort, perhaps we might do
better for ourselves with him. Still, on the other hand, if you

ask him for money, it would put him on his guard, and he is just
the man to clear out without paying, and that would be an

abominable sell."
"And suppose you did warn him," Poiret went on, "didn't that

gentleman say that he was closely watched? You would spoil
everything."

"Anyhow," thought Mlle. Michonneau, "I can't abide him. He says
nothing but disagreeable things to me."

"But you can do better than that," Poiret resumed. "As that
gentleman said (and he seemed to me to be a very good sort of

man, besides being very well got up), it is an act of obedience
to the laws to rid society of a criminal, however virtuous he may

be. Once a thief, always a thief. Suppose he were to take it into
his head to murder us all? The deuce! We should be guilty of

manslaughter, and be the first to fall victims into the bargain!"
Mlle. Michonneau's musings did not permit her to listen very

closely to the remarks that fell one by one from Poiret's lips
like water dripping from a leaky tap. When once this elderly

babbler began to talk, he would go on like clockwork unless Mlle.
Michonneau stopped him. He started on some subject or other, and

wandered on through parenthesis after parenthesis, till he came
to regions as remote as possible from his premises without coming

to any conclusions by the way.
By the time they reached the Maison Vauquer he had tacked

together a whole string of examples and quotations more or less
irrelevant to the subject in hand, which led him to give a full

account of his own deposition in the case of the Sieur Ragoulleau
versus Dame Morin, when he had been summoned as a witness for the

defence.
As they entered the dining-room, Eugene de Rastignac was talking

apart with Mlle. Taillefer; the conversation appeared to be of
such thrilling interest that the pair never noticed the two older

lodgers as they passed through the room. None of this was thrown
away on Mlle. Michonneau.

"I knew how it would end," remarked that lady, addressing Poiret.
"They have been making eyes at each other in a heartrending way

for a week past."
"Yes," he answered. "So she was found guilty."

"Who?"
"Mme. Morin."

"I am talking about Mlle. Victorine," said Mlle, Michonneau, as
she entered Poiret's room with an absent air, "and you answer,

'Mme. Morin.' Who may Mme. Morin be?"
"What can Mlle. Victorine be guilty of?" demanded Poiret.

"Guilty of falling in love with M. Eugene de Rastignac and going
further and further without knowing exactly where she is going,

poor innocent!"
That morning Mme. de Nucingen had driven Eugene to despair. In

his own mind he had completely surrendered himself to Vautrin,
and deliberately shut his eyes to the motive for the friendship

which that extraordinary man professed for him, nor would he look
to the consequences of such an alliance. Nothing short of a

miracle could extricate him now out of the gulf into which he had
walked an hour ago, when he exchanged vows in the softest

whispers with Mlle. Taillefer. To Victorine it seemed as if she
heard an angel's voice, that heaven was opening above her; the

Maison Vauquer took strange and wonderful hues, like a stage
fairy-palace. She loved and she was loved; at any rate, she

believed that she was loved; and what woman would not likewise
have believed after seeing Rastignac's face and listening to the

tones of his voice during that hour snatched under the Argus eyes
of the Maison Vauquer? He had trampled on his conscience; he knew

that he was doing wrong, and did it deliberately; he had said to
himself that a woman's happiness should atone for this venial

sin. The energy of desperation had lent new beauty to his face;
the lurid fire that burned in his heart shone from his eyes.

Luckily for him, the miracle took place. Vautrin came in in high
spirits, and at once read the hearts of these two young creatures

whom he had brought together by the combinations of his infernal
genius, but his deep voice broke in upon their bliss.

"A charming girl is my Fanchette
In her simplicity,"

he sang mockingly.
Victorine fled. Her heart was more full than it had ever been,

but it was full of joy, and not of sorrow. Poor child! A pressure
of the hand, the light touch of Rastignac's hair against her

cheek, a word whispered in her ear so closely that she felt the
student's warm breath on her, the pressure of a trembling arm

about her waist, a kiss upon her throat--such had been her
betrothal. The near neighborhood of the stout Sylvie, who might

invade that glorified room at any moment, only made these first
tokens of love more ardent, more eloquent, more entrancing than

the noblest deeds done for love's sake in the most famous
romances. This plain-song of love, to use the pretty expression

of our forefathers, seemed almost criminal to the devout young
girl who went to confession every fortnight. In that one hour she

had poured out more of the treasures of her soul than she could
give in later days of wealth and happiness, when her whole self

followed the gift.
"The thing is arranged," Vautrin said to Eugene, who remained.

"Our two dandies have fallen out. Everything was done in proper
form. It is a matter of opinion. Our pigeon has insulted my hawk.

They will meet to-morrow in the redoubt at Clignancourt. By half-
past eight in the morning Mlle. Taillefer, calmly dipping her

bread and butter in her coffee cup, will be sole heiress of her
father's fortune and affections. A funny way of putting it, isn't

it? Taillefer's youngster is an expert swordsman, and quite
cocksure about it, but he will be bled; I have just invented a

thrust for his benefit, a way of raising your sword point and
driving it at the forehead. I must show you that thrust; it is an

uncommonly handy thing to know."
Rastignac heard him in dazed bewilderment; he could not find a

word in reply. Just then Goriot came in, and Bianchon and a few
of the boarders likewise appeared.

"That is just as I intended." Vautrin said. "You know quite well
what you are about. Good, my little eaglet! You are born to

command, you are strong, you stand firm on your feet, you are
game! I respect you."

He made as though he would take Eugene's hand, but Rastignac
hastily withdrew it, sank into a chair, and turned ghastly pale;

it seemed to him that there was a sea of blood before his eyes.
"Oh! so we still have a few dubious tatters of the swaddling

clothes of virtue about us!" murmured Vautrin. "But Papa Doliban
has three millions; I know the amount of his fortune. Once have

her dowry in your hands, and your character will be as white as
the bride's white dress, even in your own eyes."

Rastignac hesitated no longer. He made up his mind that he would
go that evening to warn the Taillefers, father and son. But just

as Vautrin left him, Father Goriot came up and said in his ear,
"You look melancholy, my boy; I will cheer you up. Come with me."

The old vermicelli dealer lighted his dip at one of the lamps as
he spoke. Eugene went with him, his curiosity had been aroused.

"Let us go up to your room," the worthy soul remarked, when he
had asked Sylvie for the law student's key. "This morning," he

resumed, "you thought that SHE did not care about you, did you
not? Eh? She would have nothing to say to you, and you went away

out of humor and out of heart. Stuff and rubbish! She wanted you
to go because she was expecting ME! Now do you understand? We

were to complete the arrangements for taking some chambers for
you, a jewel of a place, you are to move into it in three days'

time. Don't split upon me. She wants it to be a surprise; but I
couldn't bear to keep the secret from you. You will be in the Rue

d'Artois, only a step or two from the Rue Saint-Lazare, and you
are to be housed like a prince! Any one might have thought we

were furnishing the house for a bride. Oh! we have done a lot of
things in the last month, and you knew nothing about it. My

attorney has appeared on the scene, and my daughter is to have
thirty-six thousand francs a year, the interest on her money, and

I shall insist on having her eight hundred thousand invested in
sound securities, landed property that won't run away."

Eugene was dumb. He folded his arms and paced up and down in his
cheerless, untidy room. Father Goriot waited till the student's

back was turned, and seized the opportunity to go to the chimney-
piece and set upon it a little red morocco case with Rastignac's

arms stamped in gold on the leather.
"My dear boy," said the kind soul, "I have been up to the eyes in

this business. You see, there was plenty of selfishness on my
part; I have an interested motive in helping you to change

lodgings. You will not refuse me if I ask you something; will
you, eh?"

"What is it?"
"There is a room on the fifth floor, up above your rooms, that is

to let along with them; that is where I am going to live, isn't
that so? I am getting old: I am too far from my girls. I shall

not be in the way, but I shall be there, that is all. You will
come and talk to me about her every evening. It will not put you

about, will it? I shall have gone to bed before you come in, but
I shall hear you come up, and I shall say to myself, 'He has just

seen my little Delphine. He has been to a dance with her, and she
is happy, thanks to him.' If I were ill, it would do my heart

good to hear you moving about below, to know when you leave the
house and when you come in. It is only a step to the Champs-

Elysees, where they go every day, so I shall be sure of seeing
them, whereas now I am sometimes too late. And then--perhaps she

may come to see you! I shall hear her, I shall see her in her
soft quilted pelisse tripping about as daintily as a kitten. In

this one month she has become my little girl again, so light-
hearted and gay. Her soul is recovering, and her happiness is

owing to you! Oh! I would do impossibilities for you. Only just
now she said to me, 'I am very happy, papa!' When they say

'father' stiffly, it sends a chill through me; but when they call
me 'papa,' it brings all the old memories back. I feel most their

father then; I even believe that they belong to me, and to no one
else."

The good man wiped his eyes, he was crying.
"It is a long while since I have heard them talk like that, a

long, long time since she took my arm as she did to-day. Yes,
indeed, it must be quite ten years since I walked side by side

with one of my girls. How pleasant it was to keep step with her,
to feel the touch of her gown, the warmth of her arm! Well, I

took Delphine everywhere this morning; I went shopping with her,
and I brought her home again. Oh! you must let me live near you.

You may want some one to do you a service some of these days, and
I shall be on the spot to do it. Oh! if only that great dolt of

an Alsatian would die, if his gout would have the sense to attack
his stomach, how happy my poor child would be! You would be my

son-in-law; you would be her husband in the eyes of the world.
Bah! she has known no happiness, that excuses everything. Our

Father in heaven is surely on the side of fathers on earth who
love their children. How fond of you she is!" he said, raising

his head after a pause. "All the time we were going about


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