that armor of distrust which
incloses the provincial in Paris.

"How can you expect me to have outstanding business at seven hundred
miles from Paris?" added Vauvinet.

"Then you refuse me positively?" asked Bixiou.

"I have twenty francs, and no more," said the young usurer.

"I'm sorry for you," said the joker. "I thought I was worth a thousand
francs."

"You are worth two hundred thousand francs," replied Vauvinet, "and
sometimes you are worth your weight in gold, or at least your tongue is;
but I tell you I haven't a penny."

"Very good," replied Bixiou; "then we won't say anything more about
it. I had arranged for this evening, at Carabine's, the thing you most
wanted--you know?"

Vauvinet winked an eye at Bixiou; the wink that two jockeys give each
other when they want to say: "Don't try trickery."

"Don't you remember catching me round the waist as if I were a pretty
woman," said Bixiou, "and coaxing me with look and speech, and saying,
'I'll do anything for you if you'll only get me shares at par in that
railroad du Tillet and Nucingen have made an offer for?' Well, old
fellow, du Tillet and Nucingen are coming to Carabine's to-night, where
they will meet a number of political characters. You've lost a fine
opportunity. Good-bye to you, old carrot."

Bixiou rose, leaving Vauvinet apparently indifferent, but inwardly
annoyed by the sense that he had committed a folly.

"One moment, my dear fellow," said the money-lender. "Though I haven't
the money, I have credit. If your notes are worth nothing, I can keep
them and give you notes in exchange. If we can come to an agreement
about that railway stock we could share the profits, of course in due
proportion and I'll allow you that on--"

"No, no," said Bixiou, "I want money in hand, and I must get those notes
of Ravenouillet's cashed."

"Ravenouillet is sound," said Vauvinet. "He puts money into the
savings-bank; he is good security."

"Better than you," interposed Leon, "for HE doesn't stipend lorettes; he
hasn't any rent to pay; and he never rushes into speculations which keep
him dreading either a rise or fall."

"You think you can laugh at me, great man," returned Vauvinet, once more
jovial and caressing; "you've turned La Fontaine's fable of 'Le Chene
et le Roseau' into an elixir--Come, Gubetta, my old accomplice," he
continued, seizing Bixiou round the waist, "you want money; well, I can
borrow three thousand francs from my friend Cerizet inst