him. It is no matter to us how
he fights it out with those who prompt him. Now, then, do you think you
can get the Thuillier family out of this?"

"I'll go and see Desroches at once," said Godeschal.

"Not before Thuillier gives you a power of attorney and five hundred
francs. The money should be on the table in a case like this."

After the interview with Thuillier was over, la Peyrade took Godeschal
in the carriage to the rue du Bethizy, where Desroches lived, explaining
that it was on their way back to the rue Saint-Dominique d'Enfer. When
they stopped at Desroches's door la Peyrade made an appointment with
Godeschal to meet him there the next morning at seven o'clock.

La Peyrade's whole future and fortune lay in the outcome of this
conference. It is therefore not astonishing that he disregarded the
customs of the bar and went to Desroches's office, to study Sauvaignou
and take part in the struggle, in spite of the danger he ran in thus
placing himself visibly before the eyes of one of the most dreaded
attorneys in Paris.

As he entered the office and made his salutations, he took note
of Sauvaignou. The man was, as the name had already told him, from
Marseilles,--the foreman of a master-carpenter, entrusted with the
giving out of sub-contracts. The profits of this work consisted of what
he could make between the price he paid for the work and that paid to
him by the master-carpenter; this agreement being exclusive of material,
his contract being only for labor. The master-carpenter had failed.
Sauvaignou had thereupon appealed to the court of commerce for
recognition as creditor with a lien on the property. He was a stocky
little man, dressed in a gray linen blouse, with a cap on his head, and
was seated in an armchair. Three banknotes, of a thousand francs each,
lying visibly before him on Desroches's desk, informed la Peyrade that
the negotiation had already taken place, and that the lawyers were
worsted. Godeschal's eyes told the rest, and the glance which Desroches
cast at the "poor man's advocate" was like the blow of a pick-axe into
the earth of a grave. Stimulated by his danger, the Provencal became
magnificent. He coolly took up the bank-notes and folded them, as if to
put them in his pocket, saying to Desroches:--

"Thuillier has changed his mind."

"Very good; then we are all agreed," said the terrible attorney.

"Yes; your client must now hand over to us the fifty thousand francs
we have spent