Monsieur and Madame Baudoyer, senior, father and mother of the new director, were there to enjoy the glory of their son and daughter-in-law.  Uncle Gigonnet-Bidault, who had dined at the house, had a restless, fidgety look in his eye which frightened Bixiou.

“There’s a queer one,” said the latter to du Bruel, calling his attention to Gigonnet, “who would do in a vaudeville.  I wonder if he could be bought.  Such an old scarecrow is just the thing for a sign over the Two Baboons.  And what a coat!  I did think there was nobody but Poiret who could show the like after that after ten years’ public exposure to the inclemencies of Parisian weather.”

“Baudoyer is magnificent,” said du Bruel.

“Dazzling,” answered Bixiou.

“Gentlemen,” said Baudoyer, “let me present you to my own uncle, Monsieur Mitral, and to my great-uncle through my wife, Monsieur Bidault.”

Gigonnet and Mitral gave a glance at the three clerks so penetrating, so glittering with gleams of gold, that the two scoffers were sobered at once.

“Hein?” said Bixiou, when they were safely under the arcades in the place Royale; “did you examine those uncles?—­two copies of Shylock.  I’ll bet their money is lent in the market at a hundred per cent per week.  They lend on pawn; and sell most that they lay hold of, coats, gold lace, cheese, men, women, and children; they are a conglomeration of Arabs, Jews, Genoese, Genevese, Greeks, Lombards, and Parisians, suckled by a wolf and born of a Turkish woman.”

“I believe you,” said Godard.  “Uncle Mitral used to be a sheriff’s officer.”

“That settles it,” said du Bruel.

“I’m off to see the proof of my caricature,” said Bixiou; “but I should like to study the state of things in Rabourdin’s salon to-night.  You are lucky to be able to go there, du Bruel.”

“I!” said the vaudevillist, “what should I do there?  My face doesn’t lend itself to condolences.  And it is very vulgar in these days to go and see people who are down.”

CHAPTER IX

THE RESIGNATION

By midnight Madame Rabourdin’s salon was deserted; only two or three guests remained with des Lupeaulx and the master and mistress of the house.  When Schinner and Monsieur and Madame de Camps had likewise departed, des Lupeaulx rose with a mysterious air, stood with his back to the fireplace and looked alternately at the husband and wife.

“My friends,” he said, “nothing is really lost, for the minister and I are faithful to you.  Dutocq simply chose between two powers the one he thought strongest.  He has served the court and the Grand Almoner; he has betrayed me.  But that is in the order of things; a politician never complains of treachery.  Nevertheless, Baudoyer will be dismissed as incapable in a few months; no doubt his protectors will find him a place,—­in the prefecture of police, perhaps,—­for the clergy will not desert him.”