“That’s almost too much zeal,” he murmured. “Well, what’s done is done. Did you make any inquiries about the Saint Pavin and Jottras matter?” “I had no time, it was too late. You forget, perhaps, sir, that it is nearly two o’clock.” Just as he got through, the secretary who had been sent to the Rue de la Pepiniere came in. “Well?” inquired the commissary, not without evident anxiety. “I waited for Mme. de Thaller over an hour,” he said. “When she came home, I gave her the letter. She read it; and, in presence of a number of her servants, she handed me these two thousand francs.” At the sight of the bank notes, the commissary jumped to his feet. “Now we have it!” he exclaimed. “Here is the proof that we wanted.” X It was after four o’clock when M. de Tregars was at last permitted to return home. He had minutely, and at length, arranged every thing with the commissary: he had endeavored to anticipate every eventuality. His line of conduct was perfectly well marked out, and he carried with him the certainty that on the day which was about to dawn the strange game that he was playing must be finally won or lost. When he reached home, “At last, here you are, sir!” exclaimed his faithful servant. It was doubtless anxiety that had kept up the old man all night; but so absorbed was Marius’s mind, that he scarcely noticed the fact. “Did any one call in my absence?” he asked. “Yes, sir. A gentleman called during the evening, M. Costeclar, who appeared very much vexed not to find you in. He stated that he came on a very important matter that you would know all about: and he requested me to ask you to wait for him to-morrow, that is to-day, by twelve o’clock.” Was M. Costeclar sent by M. de Thaller? Had the manager of the Mutual Credit changed his mind? and had he decided to accept the conditions which he had at first rejected? In that case, it was too late. It was no longer in the power of any human being to suspend the action of justice. Without giving any further thought to that visit, “I am worn out with fatigue,” said M. de Tregars, “and I am going to lie down. At eight o’clock precisely you will call me.” But it was in vain that he tried to find a short respite in sleep. For forty-eight hours his mind had been taxed beyond measure, his nerves had been wrought up to an almost intolerable degree of exaltation.