The first winter went by. The Count had drawn on M. Cardot for the trifling sum of thirty thousand francs over and above Chesnel’s remittance. As Cardot very carefully refrained from using his right of remonstrance, Victurnien now learned for the first time that he had overdrawn his account. He was the more offended by an extremely polite refusal to make any further advance, since it so happened that he had just lost six thousand francs at play at the club, and he could not very well show himself there until they were paid. After growing indignant with Maitre Cardot, who had trusted him with thirty thousand francs (Cardot had written to Chesnel, but to the fair Duchess’ favorite he made the most of his so-called confidence in him), after all this, d’Esgrignon was obliged to ask the lawyer to tell him how to set about raising the money, since debts of honor were in question. “Draw bills on your father’s banker, and take them to his correspondent; he, no doubt, will discount them for you. Then write to your family, and tell them to remit the amount to the banker.” An inner voice seemed to suggest du Croisier’s name in this predicament. He had seen du Croisier on his knees to the aristocracy, and of the man’s real disposition he was entirely ignorant. So to du Croisier he wrote a very offhand letter, informing him that he had drawn a bill of exchange on him for ten thousand francs, adding that the amount would be repaid on receipt of the letter either by M. Chesnel or by Mlle. Armande d’Esgrignon. Then he indited two touching epistles--one to Chesnel, another to his aunt. In the matter of going headlong to ruin, a young man often shows singular ingenuity and ability, and fortune favors him. In the morning Victurnien happened on the name of the Paris bankers in correspondence with du Croisier, and de Marsay furnished him with the Kellers’ address. De Marsay knew everything in Paris. The Kellers took the bill and gave him the sum without a word, after deducting the discount. The balance of the account was in du Croisier’s favor. But the gaming debt was as nothing in comparison with the state of things at home. Invoices showered in upon Victurnien. “I say! Do you trouble yourself about that sort of thing?” Rastignac said, laughing. “Are you putting them in order, my dear boy? I did not think you were so business-like.” “My dear fellow, it is quite time I thought about it; there are twenty odd thousand francs there.” De Marsay, coming in to look up d’Esgrignon for a steeplechase, produced a dainty little pocket-book, took out twenty thousand francs, and handed them to him. “It is the best way of keeping the money safe,” said he; “I am twice enchanted to have won it yesterday from my honored father, Milord Dudley.”