ds
already. They leaned back in their chairs, looking at the general
confusion with an air of gravity, and drank but little; both of them
were absorbed in the thought of what lay before them to do that evening,
and yet neither of them felt able to rise and go. Vautrin gave a side
glance at them from time to time, and watched the change that came over
their faces, choosing the moment when their eyes drooped and seemed
about to close, to bend over Rastignac and to say in his ear:--

"My little lad, you are not quite shrewd enough to outwit Papa Vautrin
yet, and he is too fond of you to let you make a mess of your affairs.
When I have made up my mind to do a thing, no one short of Providence
can put me off. Aha! we were for going round to warn old Taillefer,
telling tales out of school! The oven is hot, the dough is kneaded, the
bread is ready for the oven; to-morrow we will eat it up and whisk away
the crumbs; and we are not going to spoil the baking? ... No, no, it is
all as good as done! We may suffer from a few conscientious scruples,
but they will be digested along with the bread. While we are having our
forty winks, Colonel Count Franchessini will clear the way to Michel
Taillefer's inheritance with the point of his sword. Victorine will come
in for her brother's money, a snug fifteen thousand francs a year. I
have made inquiries already, and I know that her late mother's property
amounts to more than three hundred thousand----"

Eugene heard all this, and could not answer a word; his tongue seemed
to be glued to the roof of his mouth, an irresistible drowsiness was
creeping over him. He still saw the table and the faces round it, but it
was through a bright mist. Soon the noise began to subside, one by one
the boarders went. At last, when their numbers had so dwindled that the
party consisted of Mme. Vauquer, Mme. Couture, Mlle. Victorine, Vautrin,
and Father Goriot, Rastignac watched as though in a dream how Mme.
Vauquer busied herself by collecting the bottles, and drained the
remainder of the wine out of each to fill others.

"Oh! how uproarious they are! what a thing it is to be young!" said the
widow.

These were the last words that Eugene heard and understood.

"There is no one like M. Vautrin for a bit of fun like this," said
Sylvie. "There, just hark at Christophe, he is snoring like a top."

"Good-bye, mamma," said Vautrin; "I am going to a theatre on the
boulevard to see M. Marty in _Le Mont Sauvage_