ho could have believed it when I launched him, only six
weeks ago, in the Tuileries?"

It was just four o'clock, the hour at which the judges left their
court-rooms. Popinot the elder chanced to go and see his nephew. This
judge, whose mind was singularly acute on all moral questions, was
also gifted with a second-sight which enabled him to discover secret
intentions, to perceive the meaning of insignificant human actions, the
germs of crime, the roots of wrongdoing; and he now watched Birotteau,
though Birotteau was not aware of it. The perfumer, who was annoyed at
finding the judge with his nephew, seemed to him harassed, preoccupied,
pensive. Little Popinot, always busy, with his pen behind his ear, lay
down as usual flat on his stomach before the father of his Cesarine. The
empty phrases which Cesar addressed to his partner seemed to the judge
to mask some important request. Instead of going away, the crafty old
man stayed in spite of his nephew's evident desire, for he guessed that
the perfumer would soon try to get rid of him by going away himself.
Accordingly, when Birotteau went out the judge followed, and saw
Birotteau hanging about that part of the Rue des Cinq-Diamants which
leads into the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher. This trifling circumstance roused
the suspicions of old Popinot as to Cesar's intentions; he turned into
the Rue des Lombards, and when he saw the perfumer re-enter Anselme's
door, he came hastily back again.

"My dear Popinot," said Cesar to his partner, "I have come to ask a
service of you."

"What can I do?" cried Popinot with generous ardor.

"Ah! you save my life," exclaimed the poor man, comforted by this
warmth of heart which flamed upon the sea of ice he had traversed for
twenty-five days.

"You must give me a note for fifty thousand francs on my share of the
profits; we will arrange later about the payment."

Popinot looked fixedly at Cesar. Cesar dropped his eyes. At this moment
the judge re-entered.

"My son--ah! excuse me, Monsieur Birotteau--Anselme, I forget to tell
you--" and with an imperious gesture he led his nephew into the street
and forced him, in his shirt-sleeves and bareheaded, to listen as they
walked towards the Rue des Lombards. "My nephew, your old master may
find himself so involved that he will be forced to make an assignment.
Before taking that step, honorable men who have forty years of integrity
to boast of, virtuous men seeking to save their good name, will pla