“Certainly, with all my heart,” replied the clerk.  “And God grant that he may succeed in extricating M. de Boiscoran from his difficulties, even if it were only to take the conceit out of my master.”

“Ah! is M. Galpin so triumphant?”

“Without the slightest reserve.  He sees his old friend already at the galleys.  He has received another letter of congratulation from the attorney general, and came here yesterday, when the court had adjourned, to read it to any one who would listen.  Everybody, of course, complimented him, except the president, who turned his back upon him, and the commonwealth attorney, who told him in Latin that he was selling the bear’s skin before he had killed him.”

In the meantime steps were heard coming down the passages; and M. Folgat said hurriedly,—­

“One more suggestion.  Goudar desires to remain unknown.  Do not speak of him to any living soul, and especially show no surprise at the costume in which you see him.”

The noise of a door which was opened interrupted him.  One of the judges entered, who, after having bowed very civilly, asked the clerk a number of questions about a case which was to come on the same day.

“Good-bye, M. Mechinet,” said the young advocate.

And his next visit was to Dr. Seignebos.  When he rang the bell, a servant came to the door, and said,—­

“The doctor is gone out; but he will be back directly, and has told me to beg you to wait for him in his study.”

Such an evidence of perfect trust was unheard of.  No one was ever allowed to remain alone in his sanctuary.  It was an immense room, quite full of most varied objects, which at a glance revealed the opinions, tastes, and predilections of the owner.  The first thing to strike the visitor as he entered was an admirable bust of Bichat, flanked on either side by smaller busts of Robespierre and Rousseau.  A clock of the time of Louis XIV. stood between the windows, and marked the seconds with a noise which sounded like the rattling of old iron.  One whole side was filled with books of all kinds, unbound or bound, in a way which would have set M. Daubigeon laughing very heartily.  A huge cupboard adapted for collections of plants bespoke a passing fancy for botany; while an electric machine recalled the time when the doctor believed in cures by electricity.

On the table in the centre of the room vast piles of books betrayed the doctor’s recent studies.  All the authors who have spoken of insanity or idiocy were there, from Apostolides to Tardien.  M. Folgat was still looking around when Dr. Seignebos entered, always like a bombshell, but far more cheerful than usual.

“I knew I should find you here!” he cried still in the door.  “You come to ask me to meet Goudar.”

The young advocate started, and said, all amazed,—­

“Who can have told you?”

“Goudar himself.  I like that man.  I am sure no one will suspect me of having a fancy for any thing that is connected with the police.  I have had too much to do all my life with spies and that ilk.  But your man might almost reconcile me with that department.”