cried Carlos Herrera.

"No money left," the Spaniard went on, "and sixty thousand francs of
debts to be paid! If you want to marry Clotilde de Grandlieu, you must
invest a million of francs in land as security for that ugly creature's
settlement. Well, then, Esther is the quarry I mean to set before that
lynx to help us to ease him of that million. That is my concern."

"Esther will never----"

"That is my concern."

"She will die of it."

"That is the undertaker's concern. Besides, what then?" cried the
savage, checking Lucien's lamentations merely by his attitude. "How many
generals died in the prime of life for the Emperor Napoleon?" he asked,
after a short silence. "There are always plenty of women. In 1821
Coralie was unique in your eyes; and yet you found Esther. After her
will come--do you know who?--the unknown fair. And she of all women
is the fairest, and you will find her in the capital where the Duc de
Grandlieu's son-in-law will be Minister and representative of the King
of France.--And do you tell me now, great Baby, that Esther will die of
it? Again, can Mademoiselle de Grandlieu's husband keep Esther?

"You have only to leave everything to me; you need not take the trouble
to think at all; that is my concern. Only you must do without Esther for
a week or two; but go to the Rue Taitbout, all the same.--Come, be off
to bill and coo on your plank of salvation, and play your part well;
slip the flaming note you wrote this morning into Clotilde's hand, and
bring me back a warm response. She will recompense herself for many woes
in writing. I take to that girl.

"You will find Esther a little depressed, but tell her to obey. We must
display our livery of virtue, our doublet of honesty, the screen behind
which all great men hide their infamy.--I must show off my handsomer
self--you must never be suspected. Chance has served us better than
my brain, which has been beating about in a void for these two months
past."

All the while he was jerking out these dreadful sentences, one by one,
like pistol shots, Carlos Herrera was dressing himself to go out.

"You are evidently delighted," cried Lucien. "You never liked poor
Esther, and you look forward with joy to the moment when you will be rid
of her."

"You have never tired of loving her, have you? Well, I have never
tired of detesting her. But have I not always behaved as though I were
sincerely attached to the hussy--I, who, through Asie, hold her life