“Did you think I looked well to-night?” she said to him, joyously.

At the same instant Mitral, waiting at the Cafe Themis, saw the two usurers returning, but was unable to perceive the slightest indications of the result on their impassible faces.

“What of it?” he said, when they were all seated at table.

“Same as ever,” replied Gigonnet, rubbing his hands, “victory with gold.”

“True,” said Gobseck.

Mitral took a cabriolet and went straight to the Saillards and Baudoyers, who were still playing boston at a late hour.  No one was present but the Abbe Gaudron.  Falleix, half-dead with the fatigue of his journey, had gone to bed.

“You will be appointed, nephew,” said Mitral; “and there’s a surprise in store for you.”

“What is it?” asked Saillard.

“The cross of the Legion of honor?” cried Mitral.

“God protects those who guard his altars,” said Gaudron.

Thus the Te Deum was sung with equal joy and confidence in both camps.

CHAPTER VIII

FORWARD, MOLLUSKS!

The next day, Wednesday, Monsieur Rabourdin was to transact business with the minister, for he had filled the late La Billardiere’s place since the beginning of the latter’s illness.  On such days the clerks came punctually, the servants were specially attentive, there was always a certain excitement in the offices on these signing-days,—­and why, nobody ever knew.  On this occasion the three servants were at their post, flattering themselves they should get a few fees; for a rumor of Rabourdin’s nomination had spread through the ministry the night before, thanks to Dutocq.  Uncle Antoine and Laurent had donned their full uniform, when, at a quarter to eight, des Lupeaulx’s servant came in with a letter, which he begged Antoine to give secretly to Dutocq, saying that the general-secretary had ordered him to deliver it without fail at Monsieur Dutocq’s house by seven o’clock.

“I’m sure I don’t know how it happened,” he said, “but I overslept myself.  I’ve only just waked up, and he’d play the devil’s tattoo on me if he knew the letter hadn’t gone.  I know a famous secret, Antoine; but don’t say anything about it to the clerks if I tell you; promise?  He would send me off if he knew I had said a single word; he told me so.”

“What’s inside the letter?” asked Antoine, eying it.

“Nothing; I looked this way—­see.”

He made the letter gape open, and showed Antoine that there was nothing but blank paper to be seen.

“This is going to be a great day for you, Laurent,” went on the secretary’s man.  “You are to have a new director.  Economy must be the order of the day, for they are going to unite the two divisions under one director—­you fellows will have to look out!”

“Yes, nine clerks are put on the retired list,” said Dutocq, who came in at the moment; “how did you hear that?”