Du Tillet had heard some talk even in financial circles of the more or
less possible adoration of his sister-in-law for Nathan; but he was
one of those who denied it, thinking it incompatible with Raoul's
known relations with Florine. The actress would certainly drive off
the countess, or vice versa. But when, on coming home that evening, he
found his sister-in-law with a perturbed face, in consultation with
his wife about money, it occurred to him that Raoul had, in all
probability, confided to her his situation. The countess must
therefore love him; she had doubtless come to obtain from her sister
the sum due to old Gigonnet. Madame du Tillet, unaware, of course, of
the reasons for her husband's apparently supernatural penetration, had
shown such stupefaction when he told her the sum wanted, that du
Tillet's suspicions became certainties. He was sure now that he held
the thread of all Nathan's possible manoeuvres.

No one knew that the unhappy man himself was in bed in a small hotel
in the rue du Mail, under the name of the office watchman, to whom
Marie had promised five hundred francs if he kept silence as to the
events of the preceding night and morning. Thus bribed, the man, whose
name was Francois Quillet, went back to the office and left word with
the portress that Monsieur Nathan had been taken ill in consequence of
overwork, and was resting. Du Tillet was therefore not surprised at
Raoul's absence. It was natural for the journalist to hide under any
such pretence to avoid arrest. When the sheriff's spies made inquiries
they learned that a lady had carried him away in a public coach early
in the morning; but it took three days to ferret out the number of the
coach, question the driver, and find the hotel where the debtor was
recovering his strength. Thus Marie's prompt action had really gained
for Nathan a truce of four days.