Du Tillet meant to compass Cesar’s commercial death.  The names of the assignees selected through the influence of du Tillet were very significant to Pillerault.  Monsieur Bidault, called Gigonnet,—­the principal creditor,—­was the one to take no active part; and Molineux, the mischievous old man who lost nothing by the failure, was to manage everything.  Du Tillet flung the noble commercial carcass to the little jackal, that he might torment it as he devoured it.  After the meeting at which the creditors appointed the assignees, little Molineux returned home “honored,” so he said, “by the suffrages of his fellow-citizens”; happy in the prospect of hectoring Birotteau, just as a child delights in having an insect to maltreat.  The landlord, astride of his hobby,—­the law,—­begged du Tillet to favor him with his ideas; and he bought a copy of the commercial Code.  Happily, Joseph Lebas, cautioned by Pillerault, had already requested the president of the Board of Commerce to select a sagacious and well-meaning commissioner.  Gobenheim-Keller, whom du Tillet hoped to have, found himself displaced by Monsieur Camusot, a substitute-judge,—­a rich silk-merchant, Liberal in politics, and the owner of the house in which Pillerault lived; a man counted honorable.

* * * * *

One of the cruellest scenes of Cesar’s life was his forced conference with little Molineux,—­the being he had once regarded as a nonentity, who now by a fiction of law had become Cesar Birotteau.  He was compelled to go to the Cour Batave, to mount the six flights, and re-enter the miserable appartement of the old man, now his custodian, his quasi judge,—­the representative of his creditors.  Pillerault accompanied him.

“What is the matter?” said the old man, as Cesar gave vent to an exclamation.

“Ah, uncle! you do not know the sort of man this Molineux is!”

“I have seen him from time to time for fifteen years past at the cafe David, where he plays dominoes.  That is why I have come with you.”

Monsieur Molineux showed the utmost politeness to Pillerault, and much disdainful condescension to the bankrupt; he had thought over his part, studied the shades of his demeanor, and prepared his ideas.

“What information is it that you need?” asked Pillerault.  “There is no dispute as to the claims.”

“Oh,” said little Molineux, “the claims are in order,—­they have been examined.  The creditors are all serious and legitimate.  But the law, monsieur,—­the law!  The expenditures of the bankrupt have been disproportional to his fortune.  It appears that the ball—­”

“At which you were present,” interrupted Pillerault.

“—­cost nearly sixty thousand francs, and at that time the assets of the insolvent amounted to not more than one hundred and a few thousand francs.  There is cause to arraign the bankrupt on a charge of wilful bankruptcy.”

“Is that your intention?” said Pillerault, noticing the despondency into which these words had cast Birotteau.