r had the smallest
ground for complaint, either of Jacques Collin or of his aunt; still,
each time she was required to help them, Madame Prelard quaked in every
limb. So, as she saw the terrible couple come into her shop, she turned
as pale as death.

"We want to speak to you on business, madame," said Jacques Collin.

"My husband is in there," said she.

"Very well; we have no immediate need of you. I never put people out of
their way for nothing."

"Send for a hackney coach, my dear," said Jacqueline Collin, "and tell
my god-daughter to come down. I hope to place her as maid to a very
great lady, and the steward of the house will take us there."

A shop-boy fetched the coach, and a few minutes later Europe, or, to
be rid of the name under which she had served Esther, Prudence Servien,
Paccard, Jacques Collin, and his aunt, were, to la Rousse's great
joy, packed into a coach, ordered by _Trompe-la-Mort_ to drive to the
Barriere d'Ivry.

Prudence and Paccard, quaking in presence of the boss, felt like guilty
souls in the presence of God.

"Where are the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs?" asked the boss,
looking at them with the clear, penetrating gaze which so effectually
curdled the blood of these tools of his, these ames damnees, when they
were caught tripping, that they felt as though their scalp were set with
as many pins as hairs.

"The seven hundred and _thirty_ thousand francs," said Jacqueline Collin
to her nephew, "are quite safe; I gave them to la Romette this morning
in a sealed packet."

"If you had not handed them over to Jacqueline," said _Trompe-la-Mort_,
"you would have gone straight there," and he pointed to the Place de
Greve, which they were just passing.

Prudence Servien, in her country fashion, made the sign of the Cross, as
if she had seen a thunderbolt fall.

"I forgive you," said the boss, "on condition of your committing no more
mistakes of this kind, and of your being henceforth to me what these two
fingers are of my right hand," and he pointed to the first and middle
fingers, "for this good woman is the thumb," and he slapped his aunt on
the shoulder.

"Listen to me," he went on. "You, Paccard, have nothing more to fear;
you may follow your nose about Pantin (Paris) as you please. I give you
leave to marry Prudence Servien."

Paccard took Jacques Collin's hand and kissed it respectfully.

"And what must I do?" said he.

"Nothing; and you will have dividends and wome