They were
anxious to hear any detail about the affair, and to talk over the
probable change in Victorine's prospects. Father Goriot alone was
absent, but the rest were chatting. No sooner did Eugene come into the
room, than his eyes met the inscrutable gaze of Vautrin. It was the
same look that had read his thoughts before--the look that had such
power to waken evil thoughts in his heart. He shuddered.
"Well, dear boy," said the escaped convict, "I am likely to cheat
death for a good while yet. According to these ladies, I have had a
stroke that would have felled an ox, and come off with flying colors."
"A bull you might say," cried the widow.
"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. He turned pale, and staggered back. He
turned his magnetic glance, like a ray of vivid light, on Mlle.
Michonneau; the old maid shrank and trembled under the influence of
that strong will, and collapsed into a chair.
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