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Trompe-la-Mort, absorbed in terrible meditations, the meditations of a fallen emperor, did not think of himself as the centre of observation, the object of general attention, and he walked slowly, gazing at the fatal window where Lucien had hanged himself. None of the prisoners knew of this catastrophe, since, for reasons to be presently explained, the young forger had not mentioned the subject.
Trompe-la-Mort, under a transient gleam of light from the passage, at once recognized Bibi-Lupin in the gendarme who stood leaning on his sword. "Io sono Gaba-Morto. Parla nostro Italiano," said Jacques Collin very rapidly. "Vengo ti salvar." "I am Trompe-la-Mort. Talk our Italian. I have come to save you."
The officials of the prefecture, the legal profession, the chief of the police, the justice of the peace, the examining judge, all were astir. By nine in the evening three medical men were called in to perform an autopsy on poor Esther, and inquiries were set on foot. Trompe-la-Mort, warned by Asie, exclaimed: "No one knows that I am here; I may take an airing."
"I acknowledge myself to be Jacques Collin, otherwise known as Trompe-la-Mort, condemned to twenty years' penal servitude, and I have just proved that I have come fairly by my nickname. If I had as much as raised my hand," he went on, addressing the other lodgers, "those three sneaking wretches yonder would have drawn claret on Mamma Vauquer's domestic hearth.
Bibi-Lupin bravely flew at Jacques Collin's throat; but he, keeping his eye on the foe, gave him a straight blow, and sent him sprawling on his back three yards off; then Trompe-la-Mort went calmly up to Bibi-Lupin, and held out a hand to help him rise, exactly like an English boxer who, sure of his superiority, is ready for more.
"Bibi-Lupin is right," said the turnkey to himself; "he is an old stager; he is Jacques Collin." At the moment when Trompe-la-Mort appeared in the sort of frame to his figure made by the door into the tower, the prisoners, having made their purchases at the stone table called after Saint-Louis, were scattered about the yard, always too small for their number.
"You really might be sorry to see me still alive," said Vautrin in Rastignac's ear, thinking that he guessed the student's thoughts. "You must be mighty sure of yourself." "Mlle. Michonneau was talking the day before yesterday about a gentleman named Trompe-la-Mort," said Bianchon; "and, upon my word, that name would do very well for you." Vautrin seemed thunderstruck.
We shall get back our shiners, and are behind the scenes with the police. We were the game, now we are the hunters that is all. "Give the driver three francs." The coach was at the Palais. Jacqueline, speechless with astonishment, paid. Trompe-la-Mort went up the steps to the public prosecutor's room.
If they were to send me straight to jail, I should soon be back at my old tricks in spite of the duffers at the Quai des Orfevres. Down yonder they will all turn themselves inside out to help their general their good Trompe-la-Mort to get clear away. Is there a single one among you that can say, as I can, that he has ten thousand brothers ready to do anything for him?" he asked proudly.
"Oh yes," said Poiret, "if the Minister, as you have been so obliging as to tell us, really knows for a certainty " "Certainty is not the word; he only suspects. You will soon understand how things are. Jacques Collin, nicknamed Trompe-la-Mort, is in the confidence of every convict in the three prisons; he is their man of business and their banker.
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