The thought of the guillotine so moved her that she burst into tears, her nerves were shaken, terror clutched at her heart, she lost her head.  Fraisier gloated over his triumph.  When he saw his client hesitate, he thought that he had lost his chance; he had set himself to frighten and quell La Cibot till she was completely in his power, bound hand and foot.  She had walked into his study as a fly walks into a spider’s web; there she was doomed to remain, entangled in the toils of the little lawyer who meant to feed upon her.  Out of this bit of business, indeed, Fraisier meant to gain the living of old days; comfort, competence, and consideration.  He and his friend Dr. Poulain had spent the whole previous evening in a microscopic examination of the case; they had made mature deliberations.  The doctor described Schmucke for his friend’s benefit, and the alert pair had plumbed all hypotheses and scrutinized all risks and resources, till Fraisier, exultant, cried aloud, “Both our fortunes lie in this!” He had gone so far as to promise Poulain a hospital, and as for himself, he meant to be justice of the peace of an arrondissement.

To be a justice of the peace!  For this man with his abundant capacity, for this doctor of law without a pair of socks to his name, the dream was a hippogriff so restive, that he thought of it as a deputy-advocate thinks of the silk gown, as an Italian priest thinks of the tiara.  It was indeed a wild dream!

M. Vitel, the justice of the peace before whom Fraisier pleaded, was a man of sixty-nine, in failing health; he talked of retiring on a pension; and Fraisier used to talk with Poulain of succeeding him, much as Poulain talked of saving the life of some rich heiress and marrying her afterwards.  No one knows how greedily every post in the gift of authority is sought after in Paris.  Every one wants to live in Paris.  If a stamp or tobacco license falls in, a hundred women rise up as one and stir all their friends to obtain it.  Any vacancy in the ranks of the twenty-four collectors of taxes sends a flood of ambitious folk surging in upon the Chamber of Deputies.  Decisions are made in committee, all appointments are made by the Government.  Now the salary of a justice of the peace, the lowest stipendiary magistrate in Paris, is about six thousand francs.  The post of registrar to the court is worth a hundred thousand francs.  Few places are more coveted in the administration.  Fraisier, as a justice of the peace, with the head physician of a hospital for his friend, would make a rich marriage himself and a good match for Dr. Poulain.  Each would lend a hand to each.

Night set its leaden seal upon the plans made by the sometime attorney of Mantes, and a formidable scheme sprouted up, a flourishing scheme, fertile in harvests of gain and intrigue.  La Cibot was the hinge upon which the whole matter turned; and for this reason, any rebellion on the part of the instrument must be at once put down; such action on her part was quite unexpected; but Fraisier had put forth all the strength of his rancorous nature, and the audacious portress lay trampled under his feet.