e de name of dat clefer fellow, and depent on my generosity----"

Louchard took up his hat, bowed, and left the room.

"Wat ein teufel!" cried Nucingen. "Come back--look here----"

"Take notice," said Louchard, before taking the money, "I am only
selling a piece of information, pure and simple. I can give you the name
and address of the only man who is able to be of use to you--but he is a
master----"

"Get out mit you," cried Nucingen. "Dere is not no name dat is vort one
tousant crown but dat von Varschild--and dat only ven it is sign at the
bottom of a bank-bill.--I shall gif you one tousant franc."

Louchard, a little weasel, who had never been able to purchase an
office as lawyer, notary, clerk, or attorney, leered at the Baron in a
significant fashion.

"To you--a thousand crowns, or let it alone. You will get them back in a
few seconds on the Bourse," said he.

"I will gif you one tousant franc," repeated the Baron.

"You would cheapen a gold mine!" said Louchard, bowing and leaving.

"I shall get dat address for five hundert franc!" cried the Baron, who
desired his servant to send his secretary to him.

Turcaret is no more. In these days the smallest banker, like the
greatest, exercises his acumen in the smallest transactions; he bargains
over art, beneficence, and love; he would bargain with the Pope for a
dispensation. Thus, as he listened to Louchard, Nucingen had hastily
concluded that Contenson, Louchard's right-hand man, must certainly
know the address of that master spy. Contenson would tell him for five
hundred francs what Louchard wanted to see a thousand crowns for.
The rapid calculation plainly proves that if the man's heart was in
possession of love, his head was still that of the lynx stock-jobber.

"Go your own self, mensieur," said the Baron to his secretary,
"to Contenson, dat spy of Louchart's de bailiff man--but go in one
capriolette, very qvick, and pring him here qvick to me. I shall
vait.--Go out trough de garten.--Here is dat key, for no man shall see
dat man in here. You shall take him into dat little garten-house. Try to
do dat little business very clefer."

Visitors called to see Nucingen on business; but he waited for
Contenson, he was dreaming of Esther, telling himself that before long
he would see again the woman who had aroused in him such unhoped-for
emotions, and he sent everybody away with vague replies and double-edged
promises. Contenson was to him the most importa