“Good-bye, my dear fellow,” said Jacques Collin in a low voice, and in Corentin’s ear: “the length of three corpses parts you from me; we have measured swords, they are of the same temper and the same length. Let us treat each other with due respect; but I mean to be your equal, not your subordinate. Armed as you would be, it strikes me you would be too dangerous a general for your lieutenant. We will place a grave between us. Woe to you if you come over on to my territory!
“You call yourself the State, as footmen call themselves by their master’s names. For my part, I will call myself Justice. We shall often meet; let us treat each other with dignity and propriety—all the more because we shall always remain—atrocious blackguards,” he added in a whisper. “I set you the example by embracing you——”
Corentin stood nonplussed for the first time in his life, and allowed his terrible antagonist to wring his hand.
“If so,” said he, “I think it will be to our interest on both sides to remain chums.”
“We shall be stronger each on our own side, but at the same time more dangerous,” added Jacques Collin in an undertone. “And you will allow me to call on you to-morrow to ask for some pledge of our agreement.”
“Well, well,” said Corentin amiably, “you are taking the case out of my hands to place it in those of the public prosecutor. You will help him to promotion; but I cannot but own to you that you are acting wisely.—Bibi-Lupin is too well known; he has served his turn; if you get his place, you will have the only situation that suits you. I am delighted to see you in it—on my honor——”
“Till our next meeting, very soon,” said Jacques Collin.
On turning round, Trompe-la-Mort saw the public prosecutor sitting at his table, his head resting on his hands.
“Do you mean that you can save the Comtesse de Serizy from going mad?” asked Monsieur de Granville.
“In five minutes,” said Jacques Collin.