. Moreover, you will not lose
the money; you will easily get it back by judicious speculation!"

"But where can I find such a girl?" said Eugene.

"She is here, close at hand."

"Mademoiselle Victorine?"

"Precisely!"

"But how can that be?"

"She loves you; already she thinks herself the little Baroness de
Rastignac."

"She has not a penny!" cried Eugene in amazement.

"Ah, now we are coming to the point," said Vautrin.

Thereupon, Vautrin insinuated that if papa Taillefer lost his son
through the interposition of a wise Providence, he would take back his
pretty and amiable daughter, who would inherit his millions. To this end
he, Vautrin, frankly volunteered to play the part of destiny. He had a
friend, a colonel in the army of the Loire, who would pick a quarrel
with Frederic, the young blackguard son who had never sent a five-franc
piece to his poor sister, and then "to the shades"--making a pass as if
with a sword.

"Silence, monsieur! I will hear no more."

"As you please, my beautiful boy! I thought you were stronger."

A few days after this scene, Mademoiselle Michonneau and Poiret were
sitting on a bench in the Jardin des Plantes, when they were accosted by
the chief of the detective force. He told them that the minister of
police believed that a man calling himself Vautrin, who lived with them
in the Maison Vauquer, was an escaped convict from Toulon galleys,
Jacques Collin, but known by the nickname of Trompe-la-Mort, and one of
the most dangerous criminals in all France. In order to obtain certainty
as to the identity of Vautrin with Collin he offered a bribe of three
thousand francs if mademoiselle would administer a potion in his coffee
or wine, which would affect him as if he were stricken with apoplexy.
During his insensibility they could easily discover whether Vautrin had
the convict's brand on his shoulder. The pair accepted the bribe, and
the plot succeeded. Vautrin was identified as Collin and arrested, just
as a messenger came to announce that Frederic Taillefer had been killed
in a duel, and Victorine was carried off with Madame Couture to her
father's home, the sole heir to his millions. When he was being pinioned
to be conveyed back to the galleys, Collin looked upon his late fellow
boarders with fierce scorn. "Are you any better than we convicts are?"
said he. "We have less infamy branded on our shoulders than you have in
your hearts--you flabby members of a gangrened society. Th