“I hold in my hand the honor of three families, and you only the lives of three convicts in yours,” said Jacques Collin.  “I have the stronger hand.”

“But you may be sent back to the dark cells:  then, what will you do?” said the public prosecutor.

“Oh! we are to play the game out then!” said Jacques Collin.  “I was speaking as man to man—­I was talking to Monsieur de Granville.  But if the public prosecutor is my adversary, I take up the cards and hold them close.—­And if only you had given me your word, I was ready to give you back the letters that Mademoiselle Clotilde de Grandlieu——­”

This was said with a tone, an audacity, and a look which showed Monsieur de Granville, that against such an adversary the least blunder was dangerous.

“And is that all you ask?” said the magistrate.

“I will speak for myself now,” said Jacques.  “The honor of the Grandlieu family is to pay for the commutation of Theodore’s sentence.  It is giving much to get very little.  For what is a convict in penal servitude for life?  If he escapes, you can so easily settle the score.  It is drawing a bill on the guillotine!  Only, as he was consigned to Rochefort with no amiable intentions, you must promise me that he shall be quartered at Toulon, and well treated there.

“Now, for myself, I want something more.  I have the packets of letters from Madame de Serizy and Madame de Maufrigneuse.—­And what letters!  —­I tell you, Monsieur le Comte, prostitutes, when they write letters, assume a style of sentiment; well, sir, fine ladies, who are accustomed to style and sentiment all day long, write as prostitutes behave.  Philosophers may know the reasons for this contrariness.  I do not care to seek them.  Woman is an inferior animal; she is ruled by her instincts.  To my mind a woman has no beauty who is not like a man.

“So your smart duchesses, who are men in brains only, write masterpieces.  Oh! they are splendid from beginning to end, like Piron’s famous ode!——­”

“Indeed!”

“Would you like to see them?” said Jacques Collin, with a laugh.

The magistrate felt ashamed.

“I cannot give them to you to read.  But, there; no nonsense; this is business and all above board, I suppose?—­You must give me back the letters, and allow no one to play the spy or to follow or to watch the person who will bring them to me.”

“That will take time,” said Monsieur de Granville.

“No.  It is half-past nine,” replied Jacques Collin, looking at the clock; “well, in four minutes you will have a letter from each of these ladies, and after reading them you will countermand the guillotine.  If matters were not as they are, you would not see me taking things so easy.—­The ladies indeed have had warning.”—­Monsieur de Granville was startled.—­“They must be making a stir by now; they are going to bring the Keeper of the Seals into the fray—­they may even appeal to the King, who knows?—­Come, now, will you give me your word that you will forget all that has passed, and neither follow, nor send any one to follow, that person for a whole hour?”