“Here are the deeds,” said Gobseck, taking from the pocket of his greenish overcoat a number of legal papers.

“You have three years in which to pay off the whole sum,” said Gigonnet.

“But,” said des Lupeaulx, frightened at such kindness, and also by so apparently fantastic an arrangement.  “What do you want of me?”

“La Billardiere’s place for Baudoyer,” said Gigonnet, quickly.

“That’s a small matter, though it will be next to impossible for me to do it,” said des Lupeaulx.  “I have just tied my hands.”

“Bite the cords with your teeth,” said Gigonnet.

“They are sharp,” added Gobseck.

“Is that all?” asked des Lupeaulx.

“We keep the title-deeds of the property till the debts are paid,” said Gigonnet, putting one of the papers before des Lupeaulx; “and if the matter of the appointment is not satisfactorily arranged within six days our names will be substituted in place of yours.”

“You are deep,” cried the secretary.

“Exactly,” said Gobseck.

“And this is all?” exclaimed des Lupeaulx.

“All,” said Gobseck.

“You agree?” asked Gigonnet.

Des Lupeaulx nodded his head.

“Well, then, sign this power of attorney.  Within two days Baudoyer is to be nominated; within six your debts will be cleared off, and—­”

“And what?” asked des Lupeaulx.

“We guarantee—­”

“Guarantee!—­what?” said the secretary, more and more astonished.

“Your election to the Chamber,” said Gigonnet, rising on his heels.  “We have secured a majority of fifty-two farmers’ and mechanics’ votes, which will be thrown precisely as those who lend you this money dictate.”

Des Lupeaulx wrung Gigonnet’s hand.

“It is only such as we who never misunderstand each other,” he said; “this is what I call doing business.  I’ll make you a return gift.”

“Right,” said Gobseck.

“What is it?” asked Gigonnet.

“The cross of the Legion of honor for your imbecile of a nephew.”

“Good,” said Gigonnet, “I see you know him well.”

The pair took leave of des Lupeaulx, who conducted them to the staircase.

“They must be secret envoys from foreign powers,” whispered the footmen to each other.

Once in the street, the two usurers looked at each other under a street lamp and laughed.

“He will owe us nine thousand francs interest a year,” said Gigonnet; “that property doesn’t bring him in five.”

“He is under our thumb for a long time,” said Gobseck.

“He’ll build; he’ll commit extravagancies,” continued Gigonnet; “Falleix will get his land.”

“His interest is only to be made deputy; the old fox laughs at the rest,” said Gobseck.

“Hey! hey!”

“Hi! hi!”

These dry little exclamations served as a laugh to the two old men, who took their way back (always on foot) to the Cafe Themis.