“I’ll make sure of Rabourdin’s support by forgiving him now,—­I’ll get even with him later.  If he hasn’t this place for the time being I should have to give up a woman who is capable of becoming a most precious instrument in the pursuit of high political fortune.  She understands everything; shrinks from nothing, from no idea whatever! —­and besides, I can’t know before his Excellency what new scheme of administration Rabourdin has invented.  No, my dear des Lupeaulx, the thing in hand is to win all now for your Celestine.  You may make as many faces as you please, Madame la comtesse, but you will invite Madame Rabourdin to your next select party.”

Des Lupeaulx was one of those men who to satisfy a passion are quite able to put away revenge in some dark corner of their minds.  His course was taken; he was resolved to get Rabourdin appointed.

“I will prove to you, my dear fellow, that I deserve a good place in your galley,” thought he as he seated himself in his study and began to unfold a newspaper.

He knew so well what the ministerial organ would contain that he rarely took the trouble to read it, but on this occasion he did open it to look at the article on La Billardiere, recollecting with amusement the dilemma in which du Bruel had put him by bringing him the night before Bixiou’s amendments to the obituary.  He was laughing to himself as he reread the biography of the late Comte da Fontaine, dead a few months earlier, which he had hastily substituted for that of La Billardiere, when his eyes were dazzled by the name of Baudoyer.  He read with fury the article which pledged the minister, and then he rang violently for Dutocq, to send him at once to the editor.  But what was his astonishment on reading the reply of the opposition paper!  The situation was evidently serious.  He knew the game, and he saw that the man who was shuffling his cards for him was a Greek of the first order.  To dictate in this way through two opposing newspapers in one evening, and to begin the fight by forestalling the intentions of the minister was a daring game!  He recognized the pen of a liberal editor, and resolved to question him that night at the opera.  Dutocq appeared.

“Read that,” said des Lupeaulx, handing him over the two journals, and continuing to run his eye over others to see if Baudoyer had pulled any further wires.  “Go to the office and ask who has dared to thus compromise the minister.”

“It was not Monsieur Baudoyer himself,” answered Dutocq, “for he never left the ministry yesterday.  I need not go and inquire; for when I took your article to the newspaper office I met a young abbe who brought in a letter from the Grand Almoner, before which you yourself would have had to bow.”