"Do you think it? Do you think so?" Uncle Cyprien repeated; he was still skeptical but already shaken in his resolves. The marquis went on with that mania for preaching charity in which fortunate gamblers take delight. "After all, what is the prospect so far as you are concerned? There is really no question of making a fortune. At the most it is a matter of bettering yourself, of gaining the means to treat yourself to a little luxury and a little comfort.... Ah, if I were you ... but enough of this.... I don't want to influence you.... Whenever you feel like it, M. Raindal, come to see me.... I live at 2 rue de Bourgogne at the corner of the Place de Palais Bourbon." They caught up with the master and the abbé, who had stopped at the corner of the Pont de la Concorde. They took leave of each other. When the two brothers were left alone M. Raindal asked: "Will you come to dine with us?" Cyprien did not hear him; he was dreamily contemplating the peach velvet patches splashed on the discolored horizon by the setting sun. "I am asking you if you are coming to dine?" M. Raindal repeated. "What! What's that?" Cyprien started. "Shall I dine with you?... No, thank you.... Schleifmann is waiting for me at the brasserie.... I can't disappoint him." The little green omnibus of the Panthéon-Courcelles was slowly climbing up the street; he shook his brother's hand rapidly. "Au revoir.... One of these evenings!" He climbed on top. As he turned into the Boulevard St. Germain M. Raindal caught sight of him; he was still waving his supple gold-headed stick in a friendly gesture. * * * * * "Hello! Good evening, my dear friend," said Schleifmann, when Cyprien settled down at the table next to his own.... "Have you seen the young person?" "No, my dear friend ... but I saw one of your enemies." He related the inexplicable flight of Mme. Chambannes, his walk with the marquis and the talk about gold mines and asked him, when he had finished: "Well, my dear Schleifmann, what do you say?" "About what?" "Why, this story about the mines, of course!..." Schleifmann's little eyes shone fiercely and he passed his hand through his curly hair. "I say that it is another dirty deal by means of which the Jews of the Bourse will again take in a large amount of money for themselves and raise up more hatred against those of their own race.... That is all I have to say about your mines!" Raindal, the younger, repressed an impatient gesture. "Sapristi, Schleifmann! Please try to understand me.... I am not asking you about the Jews but about myself.... Tell me, yes or no, do you think that I should take a risk?" The Galician's face took on an expression of pity. "You, my dear Raindal? You cannot be serious!... You, a _goy_ (gentile), and an honest fellow, as well, you have got it into your head to have dealings with those big bears?... But they will eat you, my friend; they will chew you up as if you were a mutton chop!..."