“Yes,” said la Peyrade, “perhaps I will; but, first of all, I want you to find out for me about this Comtesse de Godollo.”

“What do you care about her?  She is nothing but a supernumerary, that countess.”

“I have my reasons,” said la Peyrade; “you can certainly get some information about her in three days; I’ll come and see you then.”

“My good fellow,” said Cerizet, “you seem to me to be amusing yourself with things that don’t pay; you haven’t fallen in love with that go-between, have you?”

“Plague take him!” thought la Peyrade; “he spies everything; there’s no hiding anything from him!  No,” he said, aloud, “I am not in love; on the contrary, I am very cautious.  I must admit that this marriage with a crazy girl doesn’t attract me, and before I go a step into it I want to know where I put my feet.  These crooked proceedings are not reassuring, and as so many influences are being brought to bear, I choose to control one by another.  Therefore don’t play sly, but give me all the information you get into your pouch about Madame la Comtesse Torna de Godollo.  I warn you I know enough to test the veracity of your report; and if I see you are trying to overreach me I’ll break off short with your du Portail.”

“Trying to overreach you, monseigneur!” replied Cerizet, in the tone and manner of Frederic Lemaitre.  “Who would dare attempt it?”

As he pronounced those words in a slightly mocking tone, Dutocq appeared, accompanied by his little clerk.

“Bless me!” he exclaimed, seeing la Peyrade and Cerizet together; “here’s the trinity reconstituted! but the object of the alliance, the ‘casus foederis,’ has floated off.  What have you done to that good Brigitte, la Peyrade?  She is after your blood.”

“What about Thuillier?” asked la Peyrade.

Moliere was reversed; here was Tartuffe inquiring for Orgon.

“Thuillier began by not being very hostile to you; but it now seems that the seizure business has taken a good turn, and having less need of you he is getting drawn into his sister’s waters; and if the tendency continues, I haven’t a doubt that he’ll soon come to think you deserving of hanging.”

“Well, I’m out of it all,” said la Peyrade, “and if anybody ever catches me in such a mess again!—­Well, adieu, my friends,” he added.  “And you, Cerizet, as to what we were speaking about, activity, safety, and discretion!”

When la Peyrade reached the courtyard of the municipal building, he was accosted by Madame Lambert, who was lying in wait for him.

“Monsieur wouldn’t believe, I am sure,” she said, in a deprecating tone, “the villainous things that Monsieur Cerizet said about me; monsieur knows it was the little property I received from my uncle in England that I placed in his hands.”

“Yes, yes,” said la Peyrade, “but you must understand that with all these rumors set about by your master’s relatives the prize of virtue is desperately endangered.”