“He is a convict.  He could be sent off to Bicetre without trial, and put in solitary confinement, without a soul to speak to, and left there to die.—­But he may have given instructions to his adherents, foreseeing this possibility.”

“But he was put into the secret cells,” said the Duc de Grandlieu, “the moment he was taken into custody at that woman’s house.”

“Is there such a thing as a secret cell for such a fellow as he is?” said Corentin.  “He is a match for—­for me!”

“What is to be done?” said the Dukes to each other by a glance.

“We can send the scoundrel back to the hulks at once—­to Rochefort; he will be dead in six months!  Oh! without committing any crime,” he added, in reply to a gesture on the part of the Duc de Grandlieu.  “What do you expect?  A convict cannot hold out more than six months of a hot summer if he is made to work really hard among the marshes of the Charente.  But this is of no use if our man has taken precautions with regard to the letters.  If the villain has been suspicious of his foes, and that is probable, we must find out what steps he has taken.  Then, if the present holder of the letters is poor, he is open to bribery.  So, no, we must make Jacques Collin speak.  What a duel!  He will beat me.  The better plan would be to purchase those letters by exchange for another document—­a letter of reprieve—­and to place the man in my gang.  Jacques Collin is the only man alive who is clever enough to come after me, poor Contenson and dear old Peyrade both being dead!  Jacques Collin killed those two unrivaled spies on purpose, as it were, to make a place for himself.  So, you see, gentlemen, you must give me a free hand.  Jacques Collin is in the Conciergerie.  I will go to see Monsieur de Granville in his Court.  Send some one you can trust to meet me there, for I must have a letter to show to Monsieur de Granville, who knows nothing of me.  I will hand the letter to the President of the Council, a very impressive sponsor.  You have half an hour before you, for I need half an hour to dress, that is to say, to make myself presentable to the eyes of the public prosecutor.”

“Monsieur,” said the Duc de Chaulieu, “I know your wonderful skill.  I only ask you to say Yes or No.  Will you be bound to succeed?”

“Yes, if I have full powers, and your word that I shall never be questioned about the matter.—­My plan is laid.”

This sinister reply made the two fine gentlemen shiver.  “Go on, then, monsieur,” said the Duc de Chaulieu.  “You can set down the charges of the case among those you are in the habit of undertaking.”

Corentin bowed and went away.

Henri de Lenoncourt, for whom Ferdinand de Grandlieu had a carriage brought out, went off forthwith to the King, whom he was privileged to see at all times in right of his office.

Thus all the various interests that had got entangled from the highest to the lowest ranks of society were to meet presently in Monsieur de Granville’s room at the Palais, all brought together by necessity embodied in three men—­Justice in Monsieur de Granville, and the family in Corentin, face to face with Jacques Collin, the terrible foe who represented social crime in its fiercest energy.