So saying, he looked fixedly at la Peyrade.

“Parbleu!” said the latter in a natural tone of voice, “it was seized because they chose to seize it.  They wanted to find, and they found, because they always find the things they want, what the king’s adherents call ‘subversive doctrine.’”

“No, you are wrong,” said Thuillier; “the seizure was planned, concocted, and agreed upon before publication.”

“Between whom?” asked la Peyrade.

“Between those who wanted to kill the pamphlet, and the wretches who were paid to betray it.”

“Well, in any case, those who paid,” said la Peyrade, “got mighty little for their money; for, persecuted though it was, I don’t see that your pamphlet made much of a stir.”

“Those who sold may have done better?” said Thuillier with redoubled irony.

“Those who sold,” returned la Peyrade, “were the cleverer of the two.”

“Ah, I know,” said Thuillier, “that you think a great deal of cleverness; but allow me to tell you that the police, whose hand I see in all this, doesn’t usually throw its money away.”

And again he looked fixedly at la Peyrade.

“So,” said the barrister, without winking, “you have discovered that the police had plotted in advance the smothering of your pamphlet?”

“Yes, my dear fellow; and what is more, I know the actual sum paid to the person who agreed to carry out this honorable plot.”

“The person,” said la Peyrade, thinking a moment,—­“perhaps I know the person; but as for the money, I don’t know a word about that.”

“Well, I can tell you the amount.  It was twenty-five—­thousand —­francs,” said Thuillier, dwelling on each word; “that was the sum paid to Judas.”

“Oh! excuse me, my dear fellow, but twenty-five thousand francs is a good deal of money.  I don’t deny that you have become an important man; but you are not such a bugbear to the government as to lead it to make such sacrifices.  Twenty-five thousand francs is as much as would ever be given for the suppression of one of those annoying pamphlets about the Civil list.  But our financial lucubrations didn’t annoy in that way; and such a sum borrowed from the secret-service money for the mere pleasure of plaguing you, seems to me rather fabulous.”

“Apparently,” said Thuillier, acrimoniously, “this honest go-between had some interest in exaggerating my value.  One thing is very sure; this monsieur had a debt of twenty-five thousand francs which harassed him much; and a short time before the seizure this same monsieur, who had no means of his own, paid off that debt; and unless you can tell me where else he got the money, the inference I think is not difficult to draw.”

It was la Peyrade’s turn to look fixedly at Thuillier.

“Monsieur Thuillier,” he said, raising his voice, “let us get out of enigmas and generalities; will you do me the favor to name that person?”