Mme. de Marville’s reception of him assured Fraisier that M. Leboeuf had kept his promise made to Mme. Vatinelle and spoken favorably of the sometime attorney at Mantes.  Amelie’s manner was almost caressing.  So might the Duchesse de Montpensier have treated Jacques Clement.  The petty attorney was a knife to her hand.  But when Fraisier produced the joint-letter signed by Elie Magus and Remonencq offering the sum of nine hundred thousand francs in cash for Pons’ collection, then the Presidente looked at her man of business and the gleam of the money flashed from her eyes.  That ripple of greed reached the attorney.

“M. le President left a message with me,” she said; “he hopes that you will dine with us to-morrow.  It will be a family party.  M. Godeschal, Desroches’ successor and my attorney, will come to meet you, and Berthier, our notary, and my daughter and son-in-law.  After dinner, you and I and the notary and attorney will have the little consultation for which you ask, and I will give you full powers.  The two gentlemen will do as you require and act upon your inspiration; and see that everything goes well.  You shall have a power of attorney from M. de Marville as soon as you want it.”

“I shall want it on the day of the decease.”

“It shall be in readiness.”

“Mme. la Presidente, if I ask for a power of attorney, and would prefer that your attorney’s name should not appear I wish it less in my own interest than in yours. . . .  When I give myself, it is without reserve.  And in return, madame, I ask the same fidelity; I ask my patrons (I do not venture to call you my clients) to put the same confidence in me.  You may think that in acting thus I am trying to fasten upon this affair—­no, no, madame; there may be reprehensible things done; with an inheritance in view one is dragged on . . . especially with nine hundred thousand francs in the balance.  Well, now, you could not disavow a man like Maitre Godeschal, honesty itself, but you can throw all the blame on the back of a miserable pettifogging lawyer—­”

Mme. Camusot de Marville looked admiringly at Fraisier.

“You ought to go very high,” said she, “or sink very low.  In your place, instead of asking to hide myself away as a justice of the peace, I would aim at the crown attorney’s appointment—­at, say, Mantes!—­and make a great career for myself.”

“Let me have my way, madame.  The post of justice of the peace is an ambling pad for M. Vitel; for me it shall be a war-horse.”

And in this way the Presidente proceeded to a final confidence.