problem, it is certain that I will try to solve it, whether on the force or
off it."

"Well answered!" approved the other; he was coming gradually under the
spell of Coquenil's conviction. "And when--when do you think this crime may
be committed?"

"Who can say? There must be great urgency to account for their insisting
that I sail to-morrow. Ah, you didn't know that? Yes, even now, at this
very moment, I am supposed to be on the steamer train, for the boat goes
out early in the morning _before the Paris papers can reach Cherbourg_."

M. Pougeot started up, his eyes widening. "What!" he cried. "You mean
that--that possibly--to-_night?_"

As he spoke a sudden flash of light came in through the garden window,
followed by a resounding peal of thunder. The brilliant sunset had been
followed by a violent storm.

Coquenil paid no heed to this, but answered quietly: "I mean that a great
fight is ahead, and I shall be in it. Somebody is playing for enormous
stakes, somebody who disposes of fortune and power and will stop at
_nothing_, somebody who will certainly crush me unless I crush him. It will
be a great case, Lucien, my greatest case, perhaps my last case." He
stopped and looked intently at his mother's picture, while his lips moved
inaudibly.

"Ugh!" exclaimed the commissary. "You've cast a spell over me. Come, come,
Paul, it may be only a fancy!"