im while dictating to a secretary.

"Messieurs," said Thuillier, rising, "I am sure you will excuse me
for leaving you. If, as Monsieur Barbet thinks, there is some
misunderstanding, it ought to be explained at once; I must therefore,
with your permission, go to the police court. La Peyrade," he added in a
significant tone, "you will not refuse, I presume, to accompany me. And
you, my dear publisher, you would do well to come too."

"No, faith!" said Barbet, "when I breakfast, I breakfast; if the police
have committed a blunder, so much the worse for them."

"But suppose the matter is serious?" cried Thuillier, in great
agitation.

"Well, I should say, what is perfectly true, that I had never read a
line of your pamphlet. One thing is very annoying; those damned juries
hate beards, and I must cut off mine if I'm compelled to appear in
court."

"Come, my dear amphitryon, sit down again," said the editor of the "Echo
de la Bievre," "we'll stand by you; I've already written an article in
my head which will stir up all the tanners in Paris; and, let me tell
you, that honorable corporation is a power."

"No, monsieur," replied Thuillier, "no; a man like me cannot rest an
hour under such an accusation as this. Continue your breakfast without
us; I hope soon to see you again. La Peyrade, are you coming?"

"He's charming, isn't he?" said Barbet, when Thuillier and his counsel
had left the room. "To ask me to leave a breakfast after the oysters,
and go and talk with the police! Come, messieurs, close up the ranks,"
he added, gaily.

"Tiens!" said one of the hungry journalists, who had cast his eyes
into the garden of the Palais-Royal, on which the dining-room of the
restaurant opened, "there's Barbanchu going by; suppose I call him in?"

"Yes, certainly," said Barbet junior, "have him up."

"Barbanchu! Barbanchu!" called out the journalist.

Barbanchu, his hat being over his eyes, was some time in discovering the
cloud above him whence the voice proceeded.

"Here, up here!" called the voice, which seemed to Barbanchu celestial
when he saw himself hailed by a man with a glass of champagne in his
hand. Then, as he seemed to hesitate, the party above called out in
chorus:--

"Come up! come up! _There's fat to be had_!"

When Thuillier left the office of the public prosecutor he could no
longer have any illusions. The case against him was serious, and the
stern manner in which he had been received made him see that