boarders who were in
the house when Jacques Collin was apprehended."

"There were Monsieur de Rastignac, Doctor Bianchon, Pere Goriot,
Mademoiselle Taillefer----"

"That will do," said Camusot, steadily watching Jacques Collin, whose
expression did not change. "Well, about this Pere Goriot?"

"He is dead," said Madame Poiret.

"Monsieur," said Jacques Collin, "I have several times met Monsieur de
Rastignac, a friend, I believe, of Madame de Nucingen's; and if it is
the same, he certainly never supposed me to be the convict with whom
these persons try to identify me."

"Monsieur de Rastignac and Doctor Bianchon," said the magistrate, "both
hold such a social position that their evidence, if it is in your favor,
will be enough to procure your release.--Coquart, fill up a summons for
each of them."

The formalities attending Madame Poiret's examination were over in a few
minutes; Coquart read aloud to her the notes he had made of the little
scene, and she signed the paper; but the prisoner refused to sign,
alleging his ignorance of the forms of French law.

"That is enough for to-day," said Monsieur Camusot. "You must be wanting
food. I will have you taken back to the Conciergerie."

"Alas! I am suffering too much to be able to eat," said Jacques Collin.

Camusot was anxious to time Jacques Collin's return to coincide with the
prisoners' hour of exercise in the prison yard; but he needed a reply
from the Governor of the Conciergerie to the order he had given him in
the morning, and he rang for the usher. The usher appeared, and told
him that the porter's wife, from the house on the Quai Malaquais, had an
important document to communicate with reference to Monsieur Lucien de
Rubempre. This was so serious a matter that it put Camusot's intentions
out of his head.

"Show her in," said he.

"Beg your pardon; pray excuse me, gentlemen all," said the woman,
courtesying to the judge and the Abbe Carlos by turns. "We were so
worried by the Law--my husband and me--the twice when it has marched
into our house, that we had forgotten a letter that was lying, for
Monsieur Lucien, in our chest of drawers, which we paid ten sous for
it, though it was posted in Paris, for it is very heavy, sir. Would you
please to pay me back the postage? For God knows when we shall see our
lodgers again!"

"Was this letter handed to you by the postman?" asked Camusot, after
carefully examining the envelope.

"Yes, monsieur."

"Coquart