l hazards,
and whatever may happen. I am M. de Boiscoran's friend; but I am still
more the friend of truth. If Cocoleu is a wretched impostor, as I am
firmly convinced, our duty is to unmask him."

Dr. Seignebos did not say--and he probably did not confess it to
himself--that it was a personal matter between Cocoleu and himself. He
thought Cocoleu had taken him in, and been the cause of a host of small
witticisms, under which he had suffered cruelly, though he had allowed
no one to see it. To unmask Cocoleu would have given him his revenge,
and return upon his enemies the ridicule with which they had overwhelmed
him.

"I have made up my mind," he said, "and, whatever you may resolve,
I mean to go to work at once, and try to obtain the appointment of a
commission."

"It might be prudent," M. Folgat said, "to consider before doing any
thing, to consult with M. Magloire."

"I do not want to consult with Magloire when duty calls."

"You will grant us twenty-four hours, I hope."

Dr. Seignebos frowned till he looked formidable.

"Not an hour," he replied; "and I go from here to M. Daubigeon, the
commonwealth attorney."

Thereupon, taking his hat and cane, he bowed and left, as dissatisfied
as possible, without stopping even to answer M. de Chandore, who asked
him how Count Claudieuse was, who was, according to reports in town,
getting worse and worse.

"Hang the old original!" cried M. de Chandore before the doctor had left
the passage.

Then turning to M. Folgat, he added,--

"I must, however, confess that you received the great news which he
brought rather coldly."

"The very fact of the news being so very grave," replied the advocate,
"made me wish for time to consider. If Cocoleu pretends to be imbecile,
or, at least, exaggerates his incapacity, then we have a confirmation
of what M. de Boiscoran last night told Miss Dionysia. It would be the
proof of an odious trap of a long-premeditated vengeance. Here is the
turning-point of the affair evidently."

M. de Chandore was bitterly undeceived.

"What!" he said, "you think so, and you refuse to support Dr. Seignebos,
who is certainly an honest man?"

The young lawyer shook his head.

"I wanted to have twenty-four hours' delay, because we must absolutely
consult M. de Boiscoran. Could I tell the doctor so? Had I a right to
take him into Miss Dionysia's secret?"

"You are right," murmured M. de Chandore, "you are right."

But, in order to write to M. d