He went at once, and found the lawyer, but so changed, that he hardly recognized him at first.  The last mail had brought him the news of his appointment to a judgeship, which he had long anxiously desired, and which would enable him to return, not only to France, but to his native province.  He meant to sail in a frigate which was to leave towards the end of the month, and in which Crochard, also, was to be sent home.

“In this way,” he said, “I shall arrive at the same time as the accused, and very soon after the papers, which were sent home last week; and I trust and hope I shall be allowed to conduct the trial of an affair, which, so far, has gone smoothly enough in my hands.”

His impassive air was gone; and that official mask was laid aside, which might have been looked upon as much a part of his official costume as the black gown which was lying upon one of his trunks.  He laughed, he rubbed his hands, and said,—­

“I should take pleasure in having him in my court, this Justin Chevassat, alias Maxime de Brevan.  He must be a cool swindler, brimful of cunning and astuteness, familiar with all the tricks of criminal courts, and not so easily overcome.  It will be no child’s play, I am sure, to prove that he was the instigator of Crochard’s crimes, and that he has hired him with his own money.  Ah!  There will be lively discussions and curious incidents.”

Daniel listened, quite bewildered.

“He, too,” he thought.  “Professional enthusiasm carries him away; and here he is, troubling himself about the discussions in court, neither less nor more than Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet.  He thinks only of the honor he will reap for having handed over to the jury such a formidable rascal as”—­

But the lawyer had not sent for Daniel to speak to him of his plans and his hopes.  Having learned from the chief surgeon that Lieut.  Champcey was on the point of sailing, he wished to tell him that he would receive a very important packet, which he was desired to hand to the court as soon as he reached Paris.

“This is, you understand,” he concluded, “an additional precaution which we take to prevent Maxime de Brevan from escaping us.”

It was five o’clock when Daniel left the court-house; and on the little square before it he found the old surgeon, waiting to carry him off to dinner, and a game of whist in the evening.  So, when he undressed at night, he said to himself,—­

“After all, the day has not been so very long!”

But to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow, and the next days!

He tried in vain to get rid of the fixed idea which filled his mind,—­a mechanical instinct, so to say, which was stronger than his will, and drove him incessantly to the wharf where “The Saint Louis” was lying.  Sitting on some bags of rice, he spent hour after hour in watching the cargo as it was put on board.  Never had the Annamites and the Chinamen, who in Saigon act as stevedores, appeared to him so lazy, so intolerable.  Sometimes he felt as if, seeing or guessing his impatience, they were trying to irritate him by moving the bales with the utmost slowness, and walking with unbearable laziness around with the windlass.