“Nobody knows your secret?” “Nobody except my wife.” “You have not told any one what you mean to do--the Cointets, for example?” “I did say something about it, but in general terms, I think.” A sudden spark of generosity flashed through Petit-Claud’s rancorous soul; he tried to reconcile Séchard’s interests with the Cointet’s projects and his own. “Listen, David, we are old schoolfellows, you and I; I will fight your case; but understand this clearly--the defence, in the teeth of the law, will cost you five or six thousand francs! Do not compromise your prospects. I think you will be compelled to share the profits of your invention with some one of our paper manufacturers. Let us see now. You will think twice before you buy or build a paper mill; and there is the cost of the patent besides. All this means time, and money too. The servers of writs will be down upon you too soon, perhaps, although we are going to give them the slip----” “I have my secret,” said David, with the simplicity of the man of books. “Well and good, your secret will be your plank of safety,” said Petit-Claud; his first loyal intention of avoiding a lawsuit by a compromise was frustrated. “I do not wish to know it; but mind this that I tell you. Work in the bowels of the earth if you can, so that no one may watch you and gain a hint from your ways of working, or your plank will be stolen from under your feet. An inventor and a simpleton often live in the same skin. Your mind runs so much on your secrets that you cannot think of everything. People will begin to have their suspicions at last, and the place is full of paper manufacturers. So many manufacturers, so many enemies for you! You are like a beaver with the hunters about you; do not give them your skin----” “Thank you, dear fellow, I have told myself all this,” exclaimed Séchard, “but I am obliged to you for showing so much concern for me and for your forethought. It does not really matter to me myself. An income of twelve hundred francs would be enough for me, and my father ought by rights to leave me three times as much some day. Love and thought make up my life--a divine life. I am working for Lucien’s sake and for my wife’s.” “Come, give me this power of attorney, and think of nothing but your discovery. If there should be any danger of arrest, I will let you know in time, for we must think of all possibilities. And let me tell you again to allow no one of whom you are not so sure as you are of yourself to come into your place.” “Cérizet did not care to continue the lease of the plant and premises, hence our little money difficulties. We have no one at home now but Marion and Kolb, an Alsacien as trusty as a dog, and my wife and her mother----” “One word,” said Petit-Claud, “don’t trust that dog----” “You do not know him,” exclaimed David; “he is like a second self.” “May I try him?” “Yes,” said Séchard.