He knew his two associates well; and therefore, in spite of the perpetual activity of his intellectual forces, in spite of the perpetual watchfulness his personality of ten faces required, nothing fatigued him as much as the part he had to play with his two accomplices.  Dutocq was a great knave, and Cerizet had once been a comic actor; they were both experts in humbug.  A motionless face like Talleyrand’s would have made then break at once with the Provencal, who was now in their clutches; it was necessary, therefore, that he should make a show of ease and confidence and of playing above board —­the very height of art in such affairs.  To delude the pit is an every-day triumph, but to deceive Mademoiselle Mars, Frederic Lemaitre, Potier, Talma, Monrose, is the acme of art.

This conference at the “Cheval Rouge” had therefore the result of giving to la Peyrade, who was fully as sagacious as Cerizet, a secret fear, which, during the latter period of this daring game, so fired his blood and heated his brain that there came moments when he fell into the morbid condition of the gambler, who follows with his eye the roll of the ball on which he has staked his last penny.  The senses then have a lucidity in their action and the mind takes a range, which human knowledge has no means of measuring.

CHAPTER X

HOW BRIGITTE WAS WON

The day after this conference at the “Cheval Rouge,” la Peyrade went to dine with the Thuilliers, and on the commonplace pretext of a visit to pay, Thuillier carried off his wife, leaving Theodose alone with Brigitte.  Neither Thuillier, nor his sister, nor Theodose, were the dupes of this comedy; but the old beau of the Empire considered the manoeuvre a piece of diplomacy.

“Young man, do not take advantage of my sister’s innocence; respect it,” said Thuillier solemnly, as he departed.

“Mademoiselle,” said Theodose, drawing his chair closer to the sofa where Brigitte sat knitting, “have you thought of inducing the business men of the arrondissement to support Thuillier’s interests?”

“How can I?” she asked.

“Why! you are in close relations with Barbet and Metivier.”

“Ah! you are right!  Faith! you are no blunderer!” she said after a pause.

“When we love our friends, we serve them,” he replied, sententiously.

To capture Brigitte would be like carrying the redoubt of the Moskowa, the culminating strategic point.  But it was necessary to possess that old maid as the devil was supposed in the middle ages to possess men, and in a way to make any awakening impossible for her.  For the last three days la Peyrade had been measuring himself for the task; he had carefully reconnoitred the ground to see all difficulty.  Flattery, that almost infallible means in able hands, would certainly miscarry with a woman who for years had known she had no beauty.  But a man of strong will finds nothing impregnable; the Lamarques could never have failed to take Capri.  Therefore, nothing must be omitted from the memorable scene which was now to take place; all things about it had their own importance,—­inflections of the voice, pauses, glances, lowered eyes.