“You were saying, my dear?—­” he added, interrupting himself when he saw from his work-woman’s face that high politics were beyond her comprehension.

“Here is the schedule,” said Lisbeth.  “If I don’t want to lose my three thousand two hundred and ten francs, I must clap this rogue into prison.”

“Didn’t I tell you so?” cried the oracle of the Saint-Denis quarter.

The Rivets, successor to Pons Brothers, had kept their shop still in the Rue des Mauvaises-Paroles, in the ancient Hotel Langeais, built by that illustrious family at the time when the nobility still gathered round the Louvre.

“Yes, and I blessed you on my way here,” replied Lisbeth.

“If he suspects nothing, he can be safe in prison by eight o’clock in the morning,” said Rivet, consulting the almanac to ascertain the hour of sunrise; “but not till the day after to-morrow, for he cannot be imprisoned till he has had notice that he is to be arrested by writ, with the option of payment or imprisonment.  And so——­”

“What an idiotic law!” exclaimed Lisbeth.  “Of course the debtor escapes.”

“He has every right to do so,” said the Assessor, smiling.  “So this is the way——­”

“As to that,” said Lisbeth, interrupting him, “I will take the paper and hand it to him, saying that I have been obliged to raise the money, and that the lender insists on this formality.  I know my gentleman.  He will not even look at the paper; he will light his pipe with it.”

“Not a bad idea, not bad, Mademoiselle Fischer!  Well, make your mind easy; the job shall be done.—­But stop a minute; to put your man in prison is not the only point to be considered; you only want to indulge in that legal luxury in order to get your money.  Who is to pay you?”

“Those who give him money.”

“To be sure; I forgot that the Minister of War had commissioned him to erect a monument to one of our late customers.  Ah! the house has supplied many an uniform to General Montcornet; he soon blackened them with the smoke of cannon.  A brave man, he was! and he paid on the nail.”

A marshal of France may have saved the Emperor or his country; “He paid on the nail” will always be the highest praise he can have from a tradesman.

“Very well.  And on Saturday, Monsieur Rivet, you shall have the flat tassels.—­By the way, I am moving from the Rue du Doyenne; I am going to live in the Rue Vanneau.”

“You are very right.  I could not bear to see you in that hole which, in spite of my aversion to the Opposition, I must say is a disgrace; I repeat it, yes! is a disgrace to the Louvre and the Place du Carrousel.  I am devoted to Louis-Philippe, he is my idol; he is the august and exact representative of the class on whom he founded his dynasty, and I can never forget what he did for the trimming-makers by restoring the National Guard——­”

“When I hear you speak so, Monsieur Rivet, I cannot help wondering why you are not made a deputy.”