This proposal and the assurance with which it was made rather staggered Thuillier. “I shall know what to do when the time comes,” he replied, changing his tone. “But this must be done at once, now, here.” “I said, without leaving this office. I should think that was clear enough.” “And who will carry the note you write?” asked Thuillier, believing that by thus examining every detail he was giving proofs of amazing perspicacity. “Carry the note! why, your own porter of course,” replied la Peyrade; “you can send him yourself.” “Then write it,” said Thuillier, determined to push him to the wall. La Peyrade took a sheet of paper with the new heading and wrote as follows, reading the note aloud:-- Madame Lambert is requested to call at once, on urgent business, at the office of the “Echo de la Bievre,” rue Saint-Dominique d’Enfer. The bearer of this note will conduct her. She is awaited impatiently by her devoted servant, Theodose de la Peyrade. “There, will that suit you?” said the barrister, passing the paper to Thuillier. “Perfectly,” replied Thuillier, taking the precaution to fold the letter himself and seal it. “Put the address,” he added. Then he rang the bell for the porter. “You will carry this letter to its address,” he said to the man, “and bring back with you the person named. But will she be there?” he asked, on reflection. “It is more than probable,” replied la Peyrade; “in any case, neither you nor I will leave this room until she comes. This matter must be cleared up.” “Then go!” said Thuillier to the porter, in a theatrical tone. When they were alone, la Peyrade took up a newspaper and appeared to be absorbed in its perusal. Thuillier, beginning to get uneasy as to the upshot of the affair, regretted that he had not done something the idea of which had come to him just too late. “Yes, I ought,” he said to himself, “to have torn up that letter, and not driven him to prove his words.” Wishing to do something that might look like retaining la Peyrade in the position of which he had threatened to deprive him, he remarked presently:-- “By the bye, I have just come from the printing-office; the new type has arrived, and I think we might make our first appearance to-morrow.” La Peyrade did not answer; but he got up and took his paper nearer to the window. “He is sulky,” thought Thuillier, “and if he is innocent, he may well be. But, after all, why did he ever bring a man like that Cerizet here?” Then to hide his embarrassment and the preoccupation of his mind, he sat down before the editor’s table, took a sheet of the head-lined paper and made himself write a letter. Presently la Peyrade returned to the table and sitting down, took another sheet and with the feverish rapidity of a man stirred by some emotion he drove his pen over the paper.