“I?” said Theodose. “I’m going to pay him. But even so, there will still be five notes of mine in his hands, for five thousand francs each; what does he mean to do with them?”
“Oh! after the affair of this morning, I can’t tell you; my client is a crafty, mangy cur, and he is sure to have his little plans.”
“Look here, Desroches,” said Theodose, taking the hard, unyielding attorney round the waist, “those papers are in your hands, are not they?”
“Will you pay them?”
“Yes, in three hours.”
“Very good, then. Be at my office at nine o’clock; I’ll receive the money and give you your notes; but, at half-past nine o’clock, they will be in the sheriff’s hands.”
“To-night, then, at nine o’clock,” said Theodose.
“Nine o’clock,” repeated Desroches, whose glance had taken in the whole family, then assembled in the garden.
Celeste, with red eyes, was talking to her godmother; Colleville and Brigitte, Flavie and Thuillier were on the steps of the broad portico leading to the entrance-hall. Desroches remarked to Theodose, who followed him to the door:—
“You can pay off those notes.”