“With fifteen thousand francs,” he said, “a man may do something.” “That is true. There is a piece of land for sale adjoining my garden, which would suit me exactly. Flowers bring a good price in Paris, and that business would please my wife. Fruit, also yields a good profit.” The advocate knew now that he had caught his man. “Remember, too, my dear Goudar, that, if you succeed, these fifteen thousand francs would only be a part payment. They might, perhaps, double the sum. M. de Boiscoran is the most liberal of men, and he would take pleasure in royally rewarding the man who should have saved him.” As he spoke, he opened the pocket-book, and drew from it fifteen thousand-franc notes, which he spread out on the table. “To any one but to you,” he went on, “I should hesitate to pay such a sum in advance. Another man might take the money, and never trouble himself about the affair. But I know your uprightness; and, if you give me your word in return for the notes, I shall be satisfied. Come, shall it be so?” The detective was evidently not a little excited; for, self-possessed as he was, he had turned somewhat pale. He hesitated, handled the bank-notes, and then, all of a sudden, said,-- “Wait two minutes.” He got up instantly, and ran towards the house. “Is he going to consult his wife?” M. Folgat asked himself. He did so; for the next moment they appeared at the other end of the walk, engaged in a lively discussion. However, the discussion did not last long. Goudar came back to the bower, and said,-- “Agreed! I am your man!” The advocate was delighted, and shook his hand. “Thank you!” he cried; “for, with your assistance, I am almost sure of success. Unfortunately, we have no time to lose. When can you go to work?” “This moment. Give me time to change my costume; and I am at your service. You will have to give me the keys of the house in Passy.” “I have them here in my pocket.” “Well, then let us go there at once; for I must, first of all, reconnoitre the ground. And you shall see if it takes me long to dress.” In less than fifteen minutes he reappeared in a long overcoat, with gloves on, looking, for all the world, like one of those retired grocers who have made a fortune, and settled somewhere outside of the corporation of Paris, displaying their idleness in broad daylight, and repenting forever that they have given up their occupation. “Let us go,” he said to the lawyer. After having bowed to Mrs. Goudar, who accompanied them with a radiant smile, they got into the carriage, calling out to the driver,-- “Vine Street, Passy, No. 23.”