The day after that evening, when Corentin, la Peyrade, and Cerizet were to have had their consultation in reference to the attack on Thuillier’s candidacy, the latter was discussing with his sister Brigitte the letter in which Theodose declined the hand of Celeste, and his mind seemed particularly to dwell on the postscript where it was intimated that la Peyrade might not continue the editor of the “Echo de la Bievre.”  At this moment Henri, the “male domestic,” entered the room to ask if his master would receive Monsieur Cerizet.

Thuillier’s first impulse was to deny himself to that unwelcome visitor.  Then, thinking better of it, he reflected that if la Peyrade suddenly left him in the lurch, Cerizet might possibly prove a precious resource.  Consequently, he ordered Henri to show him in.  His manner, however, was extremely cold, and in some sort expectant.  As for Cerizet, he presented himself without the slightest embarrassment and with the air of a man who had calculated all the consequences of the step he was taking.

“Well, my dear monsieur,” he began, “I suppose by this time you have been posted as to the Sieur la Peyrade.”

“What may you mean by that?” said Thuillier, stiffly.

“Well, the man,” replied Cerizet, “who, after intriguing to marry your goddaughter, breaks off the marriage abruptly—­as he will, before long, break that lion’s-share contract he made you sign about his editorship—­can’t be, I should suppose, the object of the same blind confidence you formerly reposed in him.”

“Ah!” said Thuillier, hastily, “then do you know anything about la Peyrade’s intention of leaving the newspaper?”

“No,” said the other; “on the terms I now am with him, you can readily believe we don’t see each other; still less should I receive his confidences.  But I draw the induction from the well-known character of the person, and you may be sure that when he finds it for his interest to leave you, he’ll throw you away like an old coat—­I’ve passed that way, and I speak from experience.”

“Then you must have had some difficulties with him before you joined my paper?” said Thuillier, interrogatively.

“Parbleu!” replied Cerizet; “the affair of this house which he helped you to buy was mine; I started that hare.  He was to put me in relation with you, and make me the principal tenant of the house.  But the unfortunate affair of that bidding-in gave him a chance to knock me out of everything and get all the profits for himself.”

“Profits!” exclaimed Thuillier.  “I don’t see that he got anything out of that transaction, except the marriage which he now refuses—­”

“But,” interrupted Cerizet, “there’s the ten thousand francs he got out of you on pretence of the cross which you never received, and the twenty-five thousand he owes to Madame Lambert, for which you went security, and which you will soon have to pay like a good fellow.”

“What’s this I hear?” cried Brigitte, up in arms; “twenty-five thousand francs for which you have given security?”