“If there is a plot or a crime to be followed up, then, indeed, the heads of the corps are at your service; but you must understand, Monsieur le Baron, that they have other fish to fry than looking after the fifty thousand love affairs in Paris. As to me and my men, our only business is to arrest debtors; and as soon as anything else is to be done, we run enormous risks if we interfere with the peace and quiet of any man or woman. I sent you one of my men, but I told you I could not answer for him; you instructed him to find a particular woman in Paris; Contenson bled you of a thousand-franc note, and did not even move. You might as well look for a needle in the river as for a woman in Paris, who is supposed to haunt Vincennes, and of whom the description answers to every pretty woman in the capital.” “And could not Contenson haf tolt me de truf, instead of making me pleed out one tousand franc?” “Listen to me, Monsieur le Baron,” said Louchard. “Will you give me a thousand crowns? I will give you--sell you--a piece of advice?” “Is it vort one tousand crowns--your atvice?” asked Nucingen. “I am not to be caught, Monsieur le Baron,” answered Louchard. “You are in love, you want to discover the object of your passion; you are getting as yellow as a lettuce without water. Two physicians came to see you yesterday, your man tells me, who think your life is in danger; now, I alone can put you in the hands of a clever fellow.--But the deuce is in it! If your life is not worth a thousand crowns----” “Tell me de name of dat clefer fellow, and depent on my generosity----” Louchard took up his hat, bowed, and left the room. “Wat ein teufel!” cried Nucingen. “Come back--look here----” “Take notice,” said Louchard, before taking the money, “I am only selling a piece of information, pure and simple. I can give you the name and address of the only man who is able to be of use to you--but he is a master----” “Get out mit you,” cried Nucingen. “Dere is not no name dat is vort one tousant crown but dat von Varschild--and dat only ven it is sign at the bottom of a bank-bill.--I shall gif you one tousant franc.” Louchard, a little weasel, who had never been able to purchase an office as lawyer, notary, clerk, or attorney, leered at the Baron in a significant fashion. “To you--a thousand crowns, or let it alone. You will get them back in a few seconds on the Bourse,” said he. “I will gif you one tousant franc,” repeated the Baron. “You would cheapen a gold mine!” said Louchard, bowing and leaving. “I shall get dat address for five hundert franc!” cried the Baron, who desired his servant to send his secretary to him.