After making inquiries as to the house of Cerizet, Carlos perceived that he had to do with one of those humble men who are bent on making a fortune, but—­lawfully.  Cerizet, with whom d’Estourny had really deposited his moneys, had in hand a considerable sum with which he was speculating for a rise on the Bourse, a state of affairs which allowed him to style himself a banker.  Such things are done in Paris; a man may be despised,—­but money, never.

Carlos went off to Cerizet intending to work him after his manner; for, as it happened, he was master of all this worthy’s secrets—­a meet partner for d’Estourny.

Cerizet the Brave lived in an entresol in the Rue du Gros-Chenet, and Carlos, who had himself mysteriously announced as coming from Georges d’Estourny, found the self-styled banker quite pale at the name.  The Abbe saw in this humble private room a little man with thin, light hair; and recognized him at once, from Lucien’s description, as the Judas who had ruined David Sechard.

“Can we talk here without risk of being overheard?” said the Spaniard, now metamorphosed into a red-haired Englishman with blue spectacles, as clean and prim as a Puritan going to meeting.

“Why, monsieur?” said Cerizet.  “Who are you?”

“Mr. William Barker, a creditor of M. d’Estourny’s; and I can prove to you the necessity for keeping your doors closed if you wish it.  We know, monsieur, all about your connections with the Petit-Clauds, the Cointets, and the Sechards of Angouleme——­”

On hearing these words, Cerizet rushed to the door and shut it, flew to another leading into a bedroom and bolted it; then he said to the stranger: 

“Speak lower, monsieur,” and he studied the sham Englishman as he asked him, “What do you want with me?”

“Dear me,” said William Barker, “every one for himself in this world.  You had the money of that rascal d’Estourny.—­Be quite easy, I have not come to ask for it; but that scoundrel, who deserves hanging, between you and me, gave me these bills, saying that there might be some chance of recovering the money; and as I do not choose to prosecute in my own name, he told me you would not refuse to back them.”

Cerizet looked at the bills.

“But he is no longer at Frankfort,” said he.

“I know it,” replied Barker, “but he may still have been there at the date of those bills——­”

“I will not take the responsibility,” said Cerizet.

“I do not ask such a sacrifice of you,” replied Barker; “you may be instructed to receive them.  Endorse them, and I will undertake to recover the money.”

“I am surprised that d’Estourny should show so little confidence in me,” said Cerizet.

“In his position,” replied Barker, “you can hardly blame him for having put his eggs in different baskets.”

“Can you believe——­” the little broker began, as he handed back to the Englishman the bills of exchange formally accepted.