“Yes, the boy is cut out of the right stuff to get on,” said Lousteau, who was dying of jealousy. “And particularly because he has what we call independent ideas...”
“It is you who trained him,” said Vernou.
“Well,” replied Bixiou, looking at des Lupeaulx, “I trust to the memory of Monsieur the Secretary-General and Master of Appeals—that mask is La Torpille, and I will stand a supper on it.”
“I will hold the stakes,” said du Chatelet, curious to know the truth.
“Come, des Lupeaulx,” said Finot, “try to identify your rat’s ears.”
“There is no need for committing the crime of treason against a mask,” replied Bixiou. “La Torpille and Lucien must pass us as they go up the room again, and I pledge myself to prove that it is she.”
“So our friend Lucien has come above water once more,” said Nathan, joining the group. “I thought he had gone back to Angoumois for the rest of his days. Has he discovered some secret to ruin the English?”
“He has done what you will not do in a hurry,” retorted Rastignac; “he has paid up.”
The burly mask nodded in confirmation.
“A man who has sown his wild oats at his age puts himself out of court. He has no pluck; he puts money in the funds,” replied Nathan.