“I am ignorant, monsieur,” said Cerizet, with dignity, “of what Madame Cardinal may have given to her uncle.  I have no doubt committed a great piece of thoughtlessness in assisting this woman to obtain an inheritance to which she assured me she had legal rights; but as to attempting the life of that old pauper, I am quite incapable of such a thing; nothing of the kind ever entered my mind.”

“You wrote me this letter, I think,” said du Portail, abruptly, taking from beneath a bohemian glass bowl a paper which he offered to Cerizet.

“A letter?” replied Cerizet, with the hesitation of a man who doesn’t know whether to lie or speak the truth.

“I am quite sure of what I say,” continued du Portail.  “I have a mania for autographs, and I possess one of yours, obtained at the period when the Opposition exalted you to the glorious rank of martyr.  I have compared the two writings, and I find that you certainly wrote me, yesterday, the letter which you hold in your hand, informing me of the money embarrassments of young la Peyrade at the present moment.”

“Well,” said Cerizet, “knowing that you had given a home to Mademoiselle de la Peyrade, who is probably cousin of Theodose, I thought I recognized in you the mysterious protector from whom, on more than one occasion, my friend has received the most generous assistance.  Now, as I have a sincere affection for that poor fellow, it was in his interests that I permitted myself—­”

“You did quite right,” interrupted du Portail.  “I am delighted to have fallen in with a friend of la Peyrade.  I ought not to conceal from you that it was this particular fact which protected you last night.  But tell me, what is this about notes for twenty-five thousand francs?  Is our friend so badly off in his affairs?  Is he leading a dissipated life?”

“On the contrary,” replied Cerizet, “he’s a puritan.  Given to the deepest piety, he did not choose to take, as a barrister, any other cases but those of the poor.  He is now on the point of making a rich marriage.”

“Ah! is he going to be married? and to whom?”

“To a Demoiselle Colleville, daughter of the secretary of the mayor of the 12th arrondissement.  In herself, the girl has no fortune, but a certain Monsieur Thuillier, her godfather, member of the Council-general of the Seine, has promised her a suitable ‘dot.’”

“Who has handled this affair?”

“La Peyrade has been devoted to the Thuillier family, into which he was introduced by Monsieur Dutocq, clerk of the justice-of-peace of their arrondissement.”

“But you wrote me that these notes were signed in favor of Monsieur Dutocq.  The affair is a bit of matrimonial brokerage, in short?”

“Well, something of that kind,” replied Cerizet.  “You know, monsieur, that in Paris such transactions are very common.  Even the clergy won’t disdain to have a finger in them.”

“Is the marriage a settled thing?”