“Some one had slipped into Georges’ hand a note to this effect:  ’How many banknotes will the Baron part with to be put into communication with his unknown fair?  Georges handed this to his master; and the Baron, never doubting that Georges was in collusion with me or with you, Monsieur Peyrade, to drive a hard bargain, turned him out of the house.  What a fool that banker is!  He ought not to have sent away Georges before he had known the unknown!”

“Then Georges saw the woman?” said Corentin.

“Yes,” replied Contenson.

“Well,” cried Peyrade, “and what is she like?”

“Oh,” said Contenson, “he said but one word—­’A sun of loveliness.’”

“We are being tricked by some rascals who beat us at the game,” said
Peyrade.  “Those villains mean to sell their woman very dear to the
Baron.”

“Ja, mein Herr,” said Contenson.  “And so, when I heard you got slapped in the face at the Prefecture, I made Georges blab.”

“I should like very much to know who it is that has stolen a march on me,” said Peyrade.  “We would measure our spurs!”

“We must play eavesdropper,” said Contenson.

“He is right,” said Peyrade.  “We must get into chinks to listen, and wait——­”

“We will study that side of the subject,” cried Corentin.  “For the present, I am out of work.  You, Peyrade, be a very good boy.  We must always obey Monsieur le Prefet!”

“Monsieur de Nucingen wants bleeding,” said Contenson; “he has too many banknotes in his veins.”

“But it was Lydie’s marriage-portion I looked for there!” said Peyrade, in a whisper to Corentin.

“Now, come along, Contenson, let us be off, and leave our daddy to by-bye, by-bye!”

“Monsieur,” said Contenson to Corentin on the doorstep, “what a queer piece of brokerage our good friend was planning!  Heh!—­What, marry a daughter with the price of——­Ah, ha!  It would make a pretty little play, and very moral too, entitled ‘A Girl’s Dower.’”

“You are highly organized animals, indeed,” replied Corentin.  “What ears you have!  Certainly Social Nature arms all her species with the qualities needed for the duties she expects of them!  Society is second nature.”

“That is a highly philosophical view to take,” cried Contenson.  “A professor would work it up into a system.”

“Let us find out all we can,” replied Corentin with a smile, as he made his way down the street with the spy, “as to what goes on at Monsieur de Nucingen’s with regard to this girl—­the main facts; never mind the details——­”

“Just watch to see if his chimneys are smoking!” said Contenson.

“Such a man as the Baron de Nucingen cannot be happy incognito,” replied Corentin.  “And besides, we for whom men are but cards, ought never to be tricked by them.”

“By gad! it would be the condemned jail-bird amusing himself by cutting the executioner’s throat.”