He turned into a curiosity shop, tempted by a Boule clock.

“Not to be false to my conscience, and yet to oblige two great ladies —­that will be a triumph of skill,” thought he.  “What, do you collect coins too, monsieur?” said Camusot to the Public Prosecutor, whom he found in the shop.

“It is a taste dear to all dispensers of justice,” said the Comte de Granville, laughing.  “They look at the reverse side of every medal.”

And after looking about the shop for some minutes, as if continuing his search, he accompanied Camusot on his way down the quay without it ever occurring to Camusot that anything but chance had brought them together.

“You are examining Monsieur de Rubempre this morning,” said the Public Prosecutor.  “Poor fellow—­I liked him.”

“There are several charges against him,” said Camusot.

“Yes, I saw the police papers; but some of the information came from an agent who is independent of the Prefet, the notorious Corentin, who had caused the death of more innocent men than you will ever send guilty men to the scaffold, and——­But that rascal is out of your reach.—­Without trying to influence the conscience of such a magistrate as you are, I may point out to you that if you could be perfectly sure that Lucien was ignorant of the contents of that woman’s will, it would be self-evident that he had no interest in her death, for she gave him enormous sums of money.”

“We can prove his absence at the time when this Esther was poisoned,” said Camusot.  “He was at Fontainebleau, on the watch for Mademoiselle de Grandlieu and the Duchesse de Lenoncourt.”

“And he still cherished such hopes of marrying Mademoiselle de Grandlieu,” said the Public Prosecutor—­“I have it from the Duchesse de Grandlieu herself—­that it is inconceivable that such a clever young fellow should compromise his chances by a perfectly aimless crime.”

“Yes,” said Camusot, “especially if Esther gave him all she got.”

“Derville and Nucingen both say that she died in ignorance of the inheritance she had long since come into,” added Granville.

“But then what do you suppose is the meaning of it all?” asked Camusot.  “For there is something at the bottom of it.”

“A crime committed by some servant,” said the Public Prosecutor.

“Unfortunately,” remarked Camusot, “it would be quite like Jacques Collin—­for the Spanish priest is certainly none other than that escaped convict—­to have taken possession of the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs derived from the sale of the certificate of shares given to Esther by Nucingen.”

“Weigh everything with care, my dear Camusot.  Be prudent.  The Abbe Carlos Herrera has diplomatic connections; still, an envoy who had committed a crime would not be sheltered by his position.  Is he or is he not the Abbe Carlos Herrera?  That is the important question.”

And Monsieur de Granville bowed, and turned away, as requiring no answer.