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Updated: May 7, 2025
If Richelieu was a good hater, he was no less a good friend. Fraisier, in his gratitude, would have let himself be cut in two for Poulain. So absorbed was he in these visions of a comfortable and prosperous life, that he did not see the Presidente come in with the letter in her hand, and she, looking at him, thought him less ugly now than at first.
"Who was the queer customer that took the fourth corner?" continued Fraisier. "He is an agent for a firm of monumental stone-masons. He would like an order for a tomb, on which he proposes to put three sculptured marble figures Music, Painting, and Sculpture shedding tears over the deceased."
Fraisier had told him the whole story only yesterday, and he thought that he saw his way to making interest out of the case with the young Vicomtesse Popinot and her mother. He would finish a dirty piece of work, and some day he would be a privy councillor, at least; or so he told himself. "I gif you full powers." "Well. Let me see. "That is yours, on account of six months' salary.
Poulain tells him everything that goes on in the house, and it is a great bother to keep that scarecrow quiet." "I say! I was going to you," said she. Fraisier grumbled because Elie Magus had refused to see him.
So I must see this Remonencq and the Jew; they will be very useful to us. Put entire confidence in me, I am at your disposal. When a client is a friend to me, I am his friend through thick and thin. Friend or enemy, that is my character." "Very well," said La Cibot, "I am yours entirely; and as for fees, M. Poulain " "Let us say nothing about that," said Fraisier.
The portress started on her chair, making a sudden spring like a jack-in-the-box. "Calm yourself, dear madame," continued Fraisier. "You may not have known the name of the President of the Chamber of Indictments at the Court of Appeal in Paris; but you ought to have known that M. Pons must have an heir-at-law.
Elie Magus and Remonencq made for the door, but a word glued them to the spot. "Magus here! . . . I am betrayed!" Instinctively the sick man had known that his beloved pictures were in danger, a thought that touched him at least as closely as any dread for himself, and he awoke. Fraisier meanwhile did not stir. "Mme. Cibot! who is that gentleman?" cried Pons, shivering at the sight.
The whole matter, so far, was up in the air, but now it is as good as bank-notes. . . . You shall have at least twelve hundred francs per annum. . . . But, my good lady, you must act intelligently under my orders." "Yes, my dear M. Fraisier," said La Cibot with cringing servility. She was completely subdued. "Very good. Good-bye," and Fraisier went, taking the dangerous document with him.
It would be a mere trifle for you and M. le President to gain the appointment for me; for the present Keeper of the Seals must be anxious to keep on good terms with you . . . "And that is not all, madame," added Fraisier. Seeing that Mme. de Marville was about to speak, he cut her short with a gesture.
From the state of the staircase, lighted by sash-windows on the side of the yard, it was pretty evident that the inmates of the house, with the exception of the landlord and M. Fraisier himself, were all workmen. There were traces of various crafts in the deposit of mud upon the steps brass-filings, broken buttons, scraps of gauze, and esparto grass lay scattered about.
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