y the
part of reckless gamblers; they become capable of anything; they will
sell their wives, traffic with their daughters, compromise their
best friends, pawn what does not belong to them; they will frequent
gambling-tables, become dissemblers, hypocrites, liars; they will even
shed tears. I have witnessed strange things. You yourself have seen
Roguin's respectability,--a man to whom they would have given the
sacraments without confession. I do not apply these remarks in their
full force to Monsieur Birotteau,--I believe him to be an honest man;
but if he asks you to do anything, no matter what, against the rules of
business, such as endorsing notes out of good-nature, or launching into
a system of 'circulations,' which, to my mind, is the first step to
swindling,--for it is uttering counterfeit paper-money,--if he asks
you to do anything of the kind, promise me that you will sign nothing
without consulting me. Remember that if you love his daughter you must
not--in the very interests of your love you must not--destroy your
future. If Monsieur Birotteau is to fall, what will it avail if you fall
too? You will deprive yourselves, one as much as the other, of all the
chances of your new business, which may prove his only refuge."

"Thank you, my uncle; a word to the wise is enough," said Popinot, to
whom Cesar's heart-rending exclamation was now explained.

The merchant in oils, refined and otherwise, returned to his gloomy shop
with an anxious brow. Birotteau saw the change.

"Will you do me the honor to come up into my bedroom? We shall be better
there. The clerks, though very busy, might overhear us."

Birotteau followed Popinot, a prey to the anxiety a condemned man goes
through from the moment of his appeal for mercy until its rejection.

"My dear benefactor," said Anselme, "you cannot doubt my devotion; it is
absolute. Permit me only to ask you one thing. Will this sum clear you
entirely, or is it only a means of delaying some catastrophe? If it
is that, what good will it do to drag me down also? You want notes at
ninety days. Well, it is absolutely impossible that I could meet them in
that time."

Birotteau rose, pale and solemn, and looked at Popinot.

Popinot, horror-struck, cried out, "I will do them for you, if you wish
it."

"UNGRATEFUL!" said his master, who spent his whole remaining strength
in hurling the word at Anselme's brow, as if it were a living mark of
infamy.

Birotteau walked to the doo