“When M. du Hautoy came to Angoulême in 1804, on his way to his consulship at Valence, he made the acquaintance of Mme. de Senonches, then Mlle. Zéphirine, and had a daughter by her,” added Cointet for the attorney’s ear----“Yes,” he continued, as Petit-Claud gave a start; “yes, and Mlle. Zéphirine’s marriage with M. de Senoches soon followed the birth of the child. The girl was brought up in my mother’s house; she is the Mlle. Françoise de la Haye in whom Mme. de Senoches takes an interest; she is her godmother in the usual style. Now, my mother farmed land belonging to old Mme. de Cardanet, Mlle. Zéphirine’s grandmother; and as she knew the secret of the sole heiress of the Cardanets and the Senonches of the older branch, they made me trustee for the little sum which M. François du Hautoy meant for the girl’s fortune. I made my own fortune with those ten thousand francs, which amount to thirty thousand at the present day. Mme. de Senonches is sure to give the wedding clothes, and some plate and furniture to her goddaughter. Now, I can put you in the way of marrying the girl, my lad,” said Cointet, slapping Petit-Claud on the knee; “and when you marry Françoise de la Haye, you will have a large number of the aristocracy of Angoulême as your clients. This understanding between us (under the rose) will open up magnificent prospects for you. Your position will be as much as any one could want; in fact, they don’t ask better, I know.” “What is to be done?” Petit-Claud asked eagerly. “You have an attorney, Maître Cachan----” “And, moreover, I shall not leave Cachan at once for you; I shall only be your client later on,” said Cointet significantly. “What is to be done, do you ask, my friend? Eh! why, David Séchard’s business. The poor devil has three thousand francs’ worth of bills to meet; he will not meet them; you will stave off legal proceedings in such a way as to increase the expenses enormously. Don’t trouble yourself; go on, pile on items. Doublon, my process-server, will act under Cachan’s directions, and he will lay on like a blacksmith. A word to the wise is sufficient. Now, young man?----” An eloquent pause followed, and the two men looked at each other. “We have never seen each other,” Cointet resumed; “I have not said a syllable to you; you know nothing about M. du Hautoy, nor Mme. de Senonches, nor Mlle. de la Haye; only, when the time comes, two months hence, you will propose for the young lady. If we should want to see each other, you will come here after dark. Let us have nothing in writing.” “Then you mean to ruin Séchard?” asked Petit-Claud. “Not exactly; but he must be in jail for some time----” “And what is the object?” “Do you think that I am noodle enough to tell you that? If you have wit enough to find out, you will have sense enough to hold your tongue.” “Old Séchard has plenty of money,” said Petit-Claud. He was beginning already to enter into Boniface Cointet’s notions, and foresaw a possible cause of failure.