estimated
David's character. The tall Cointet looked upon David's imprisonment
as the first scene of the first act of the drama. The second act opened
with the proposal which Petit-Claud had just made. As arch-schemer,
the attorney looked upon Lucien's frantic folly as a bit of unhoped-for
luck, a chance that would finally decide the issues of the day.

Eve was completely prostrated by this event; Petit-Claud saw this, and
meant to profit by her despair to win her confidence, for he saw at last
how much she influenced her husband. So far from discouraging Eve, he
tried to reassure her, and very cleverly diverted her thoughts to the
prison. She should persuade David to take the Cointets into partnership.

"David told me, madame, that he only wished for a fortune for your sake
and your brother's; but it should be clear to you by now that to try
to make a rich man of Lucien would be madness. The youngster would run
through three fortunes."

Eve's attitude told plainly enough that she had no more illusions left
with regard to her brother. The lawyer waited a little so that her
silence should have the weight of consent.

"Things being so, it is now a question of you and your child," he said.
"It rests with you to decide whether an income of two thousand francs
will be enough for your welfare, to say nothing of old Sechard's
property. Your father-in-law's income has amounted to seven or eight
thousand francs for a long time past, to say nothing of capital lying
out at interest. So, after all, you have a good prospect before you. Why
torment yourself?"

Petit-Claud left Eve Sechard to reflect upon this prospect. The whole
scheme had been drawn up with no little skill by the tall Cointet the
evening before.

"Give them the glimpse of a possibility of money in hand," the lynx had
said, when Petit-Claud brought the news of the arrest; "once let
them grow accustomed to that idea, and they are ours; we will drive a
bargain, and little by little we shall bring them down to our price for
the secret."

The argument of the second act of the commercial drama was in a manner
summed up in that speech.

Mme. Sechard, heartbroken and full of dread for her brother's fate,
dressed and came downstairs. An agony of terror seized her when she
thought that she must cross Angouleme alone on the way to the prison.
Petit-Claud gave little thought to his fair client's distress. When
he came back to offer his arm, it was from a tolerably Mac