“You are committed to some risky venture, which might easily be written down in a series of articles; a ‘chanteur’ waits upon you, and offers to withdraw the articles—­for a consideration.  ‘Chanteurs’ are sent to men in office, who will bargain that their acts and not their private characters are to be attacked, or they are heedless of their characters, and anxious only to shield the woman they love.  One of your acquaintance, that charming Master of Requests des Lupeaulx, is a kind of agent for affairs of this sort.  The rascal has made a position for himself in the most marvelous way in the very centre of power; he is the middle-man of the press and the ambassador of the Ministers; he works upon a man’s self-love; he bribes newspapers to pass over a loan in silence, or to make no comment on a contract which was never put up for public tender, and the jackals of Liberal bankers get a share out of it.  That was a bit of ‘chantage’ that you did with Dauriat; he gave you a thousand crowns to let Nathan alone.  In the eighteenth century, when journalism was still in its infancy, this kind of blackmail was levied by pamphleteers in the pay of favorites and great lords.  The original inventor was Pietro Aretino, a great Italian.  Kings went in fear of him, as stage-players go in fear of a newspaper to-day.”

“What did you do to the Matifat to make the thousand crowns?”

“I attacked Florine in half a dozen papers.  Florine complained to Matifat.  Matifat went to Braulard to find out what the attacks meant.  I did my ‘chantage’ for Finot’s benefit, and Finot put Braulard on the wrong scent; Braulard told the man of drugs that you were demolishing Florine in Coralie’s interest.  Then Giroudeau went round to Matifat and told him (in confidence) that the whole business could be accommodated if he (Matifat) would consent to sell his sixth share in Finot’s review for ten thousand francs.  Finot was to give me a thousand crowns if the dodge succeeded.  Well, Matifat was only too glad to get back ten thousand francs out of the thirty thousand invested in a risky speculation, as he thought, for Florine had been telling him for several days past that Finot’s review was doing badly; and, instead of paying a dividend, something was said of calling up more capital.  So Matifat was just about to close with the offer, when the manager of the Panorama-Dramatique comes to him with some accommodation bills that he wanted to negotiate before filing his schedule.  To induce Matifat to take them of him, he let out a word of Finot’s trick.  Matifat, being a shrewd man of business, took the hint, held tight to his sixth, and is laughing in his sleeve at us.  Finot and I are howling with despair.  We have been so misguided as to attack a man who has no affection for his mistress, a heartless, soulless wretch.  Unluckily, too, for us, Matifat’s business is not amenable to the jurisdiction of the press, and he cannot be made to smart for it through his interests.  A druggist is not like a hatter or a milliner, or a theatre or a work of art; he is above criticism; you can’t run down his opium and dyewoods, nor cocoa beans, paint, and pepper.  Florine is at her wits’ end; the Panorama closes to-morrow, and what will become of her she does not know.”