“Yes,” replied Peyrade. “To keep her for a month, which will not cost me more than a thousand crowns, I have got myself up as a nabob and taken Contenson as my servant. This is so absolutely true, monsieur, that if you like to leave me in the coach, where I will wait for you, on my honor as an old Commissioner-General of Police, you can go to the hotel and question Contenson. Not only will Contenson confirm what I have the honor of stating, but you may see Madame du Val-Noble’s waiting-maid, who is to come this morning to signify her mistress’ acceptance of my offers, or the conditions she makes. “An old monkey knows what grimaces mean: I have offered her a thousand francs a month and a carriage--that comes to fifteen hundred; five hundred francs’ worth of presents, and as much again in some outings, dinners and play-going; you see, I am not deceiving you by a centime when I say a thousand crowns.--A man of my age may well spend a thousand crowns on his last fancy.” “Bless me, Papa Peyrade! and you still care enough for women to----? But you are deceiving me. I am sixty myself, and I can do without ‘em.--However, if the case is as you state it, I quite understand that you should have found it necessary to get yourself up as a foreigner to indulge your fancy.” “You can understand that Peyrade, or old Canquoelle of the Rue des Moineaux----” “Ay, neither of them would have suited Madame du Val-Noble,” Carlos put in, delighted to have picked up Canquoelle’s address. “Before the Revolution,” he went on, “I had for my mistress a woman who had previously been kept by the gentleman-in-waiting, as they then called the executioner. One evening at the play she pricked herself with a pin, and cried out--a customary ejaculation in those days--‘Ah! Bourreau!’ on which her neighbor asked her if this were a reminiscence?--Well, my dear Peyrade, she cast off her man for that speech. “I suppose you have no wish to expose yourself to such a slap in the face.--Madame du Val-Noble is a woman for gentlemen. I saw her once at the opera, and thought her very handsome. “Tell the driver to go back to the Rue de la Paix, my dear Peyrade. I will go upstairs with you to your rooms and see for myself. A verbal report will no doubt be enough for Monsieur le Prefet.” Carlos took a snuff-box from his side-pocket--a black snuff-box lined with silver-gilt--and offered it to Peyrade with an impulse of delightful good-fellowship. Peyrade said to himself: “And these are their agents! Good Heavens! what would Monsieur Lenoir say if he could come back to life, or Monsieur de Sartines?” “That is part of the truth, no doubt, but it is not all,” said the sham lawyer, sniffing up his pinch of snuff. “You have had a finger in the Baron de Nucingen’s love affairs, and you wish, no doubt, to entangle him in some slip-knot. You missed fire with the pistol, and you are aiming at him with a field-piece. Madame du Val-Noble is a friend of Madame de Champy’s----”