door, and followed by M. Plantat
and Palot, went into the large room. All the men rose at his
approach as before.

"Monsieur Job," said the detective, "listen attentively to what I
have to say. As soon as I am gone, pay up what you owe here, and
then, as I must have you all within reach, go and install yourselves
in the first wine-shop on the right as you go up the Rue d'Amsterdam.
Take your dinner there, for you will have time--but soberly, you
understand."

He took two napoleons out of his pocket and placed them on the
table, adding:

"That's for the dinner."

M. Lecoq and the old justice went into the street, followed closely
by Palot. The detective was anxious above all to see for himself
the house inhabited by Tremorel. He saw at a glance that the
interior must be as Palot had described.

"That's it, undoubtedly," said he to M. Plantat; "we've got the
game in our hands. Our chances at this moment are ninety to ten."

"What are you going to do?" asked the justice, whose emotion
increased as the decisive moment approached.

"Nothing, just yet, I must wait for night before I act. As it is
two hours yet before dark, let's imitate my men; I know a restaurant
just by here where you can dine capitally; we'll patronize it."

And without awaiting a reply, he led M. Plantat to a restaurant in
the Passage du Havre. But at the moment he was about to open the
door, he stopped and made a signal. Palot immediately appeared.

"I give you two hours to get yourself up so that the porter won't
recognize you, and to have some dinner. You are an upholsterer's
apprentice. Now clear out; I shall wait for you here."

M. Lecoq was right when he said that a capital dinner was to be
had in the Passage du Havre; unfortunately M. Plantat was not in a
state to appreciate it. As in the morning, he found it difficult
to swallow anything, he was so anxious and depressed. He longed to
know the detective's plans; but M. Lecoq remained impenetrable,
answering all inquiries with:

"Let me act, and trust me."

M. Plantat's confidence was indeed very great; but the more he
reflected, the more perilous and difficult seemed the attempt to
save Tremorel from a trial. The most poignant doubts troubled and
tortured his mind. His own life was at stake; for he had sworn to
himself that he would not survive the ruin of Laurence in being
forced to confess in full court her dishonor and her love for
Hector.

M. Lecoq tried hard to make his comp