“She will get five years in the Madelonnettes,” said Jacqueline.

“That’s about it,” said the nephew.  “This will be a reason for old Nourrisson to get rid of her house; she cannot manage it herself, and a manager to suit is not to be found every day.  You can arrange all that.  We shall have a sharp eye there.—­But all these three things are secondary to the business I have undertaken with regard to our letters.  So unrip your gown and give me the samples of the goods.  Where are the three packets?”

“At la Rousse’s, of course.”

“Coachman,” cried Jacques Collin, “go back to the Palais de Justice, and look sharp——­

“I promised to be quick, and I have been gone half an hour; that is too much.—­Stay at la Rousse’s, and give the sealed parcels to the office clerk, who will come and ask for Madame de Saint-Esteve; the de will be the password.  He will say to you,’Madame, I have come from the public prosecutor for the things you know of.’  Stand waiting outside the door, staring about at what is going on in the Flower-Market, so as not to arouse Prelard’s suspicions.  As soon as you have given up the letters, you can start Paccard and Prudence.”

“I see what you are at,” said Jacqueline; “you mean to step into Bibi-Lupin’s shoes.  That boy’s death has turned your brain.”

“And there is Theodore, who was just going to have his hair cropped to be scragged at four this afternoon!” cried Jacques Collin.

“Well, it is a notion!  We shall end our days as honest folks in a fine property and a delightful climate—­in Touraine.”

“What was to become of me?  Lucien has taken my soul with him, and all my joy in life.  I have thirty years before me to be sick of life in, and I have no heart left.  Instead of being the boss of the hulks, I shall be a Figaro of the law, and avenge Lucien.  I can never be sure of demolishing Corentin excepting in the skin of a police agent.  And so long as I have a man to devour, I shall still feel alive.—­The profession a man follows in the eyes of the world is a mere sham; the reality is in the idea!” he added, striking his forehead.—­“How much have we left in the cash-box?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said his aunt, dismayed by the man’s tone and manner.  “I gave you all I had for the boy.  La Romette has not more than twenty thousand francs left in the business.  I took everything from Madame Nourrisson; she had about sixty thousand francs of her own.  Oh! we are lying in sheets that have been washed this twelve months past.  That boy had all the pals’ blunt, our savings, and all old Nourrisson’s.”

“Making——?”

“Five hundred and sixty thousand.”

“We have a hundred and fifty thousand which Paccard and Prudence will pay us.  I will tell you where to find two hundred thousand more.  The remainder will come to me out of Esther’s money.  We must repay old Nourrisson.  With Theodore, Paccard, Prudence, Nourrisson, and you, I shall soon have the holy alliance I require.—­Listen, now we are nearly there——­”