me your name?"

"No names," replied the English capitalist. "Put 'The bearer of this
letter and these bills.'--You will be handsomely repaid for obliging
me."

"How?" said Cerizet.

"In one word--You mean to stay in France, do not you?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Well, Georges d'Estourny will never re-enter the country."

"Pray why?"

"There are five persons at least to my knowledge who would murder him,
and he knows it."

"Then no wonder he is asking me for money enough to start him trading
to the Indies?" cried Cerizet. "And unfortunately he has compelled me to
risk everything in State speculation. We already owe heavy differences
to the house of du Tillet. I live from hand to mouth."

"Withdraw your stakes."

"Oh! if only I had known this sooner!" exclaimed Cerizet. "I have missed
my chance!"

"One last word," said Barker. "Keep your own counsel, you are capable
of that; but you must be faithful too, which is perhaps less certain. We
shall meet again, and I will help you to make a fortune."

Having tossed this sordid soul a crumb of hope that would secure silence
for some time to come, Carlos, still disguised as Barker, betook himself
to a bailiff whom he could depend on, and instructed him to get the
bills brought home to Esther.

"They will be paid all right," said he to the officer. "It is an affair
of honor; only we want to do the thing regularly."

Barker got a solicitor to represent Esther in court, so that judgment
might be given in presence of both parties. The collecting officer,
who was begged to act with civility, took with him all the warrants
for procedure, and came in person to seize the furniture in the Rue
Taitbout, where he was received by Europe. Her personal liability once
proved, Esther was ostensibly liable, beyond dispute, for three hundred
and more thousand francs of debts.

In all this Carlos displayed no great powers of invention. The farce of
false debts is often played in Paris. There are many sub-Gobsecks
and sub-Gigonnets who, for a percentage, will lend themselves to
this subterfuge, and regard the infamous trick as a jest. In France
everything--even a crime--is done with a laugh. By this means refractory
parents are made to pay, or rich mistresses who might drive a hard
bargain, but who, face to face with flagrant necessity, or some
impending dishonor, pay up, if with a bad grace. Maxime de Trailles
had often used such means, borrowed from the comedies of the old stage.
C