Part 153 (1/2)

The other replied with some hesitation, and s.h.i.+vering beneath his fez:--

”That's a real thing. You can't go against such things.”

”I tell you that the affair can't go wrong,” resumed the long-haired man. ”Father What's-his-name's team will be already harnessed.”

Then they began to discuss a melodrama that they had seen on the preceding evening at the Gaite Theatre.

Marius went his way.

It seemed to him that the mysterious words of these men, so strangely hidden behind that wall, and crouching in the snow, could not but bear some relation to Jondrette's abominable projects. That must be the affair.

He directed his course towards the faubourg Saint-Marceau and asked at the first shop he came to where he could find a commissary of police.

He was directed to Rue de Pontoise, No. 14.

Thither Marius betook himself.

As he pa.s.sed a baker's shop, he bought a two-penny roll, and ate it, foreseeing that he should not dine.

On the way, he rendered justice to Providence. He reflected that had he not given his five francs to the Jondrette girl in the morning, he would have followed M. Leblanc's fiacre, and consequently have remained ignorant of everything, and that there would have been no obstacle to the trap of the Jondrettes and that M. Leblanc would have been lost, and his daughter with him, no doubt.

CHAPTER XIV--IN WHICH A POLICE AGENT BESTOWS TWO FISTFULS ON A LAWYER

On arriving at No. 14, Rue de Pontoise, he ascended to the first floor and inquired for the commissary of police.

”The commissary of police is not here,” said a clerk; ”but there is an inspector who takes his place. Would you like to speak to him? Are you in haste?”

”Yes,” said Marius.

The clerk introduced him into the commissary's office. There stood a tall man behind a grating, leaning against a stove, and holding up with both hands the tails of a vast topcoat, with three collars. His face was square, with a thin, firm mouth, thick, gray, and very ferocious whiskers, and a look that was enough to turn your pockets inside out.

Of that glance it might have been well said, not that it penetrated, but that it searched.

This man's air was not much less ferocious nor less terrible than Jondrette's; the dog is, at times, no less terrible to meet than the wolf.

”What do you want?” he said to Marius, without adding ”monsieur.”

”Is this Monsieur le Commissaire de Police?”

”He is absent. I am here in his stead.”

”The matter is very private.”

”Then speak.”

”And great haste is required.”

”Then speak quick.”