"Avenge him! Yes, he will be! I would not give four sous for Charles Pradès's head to-morrow, when he is tried. We shall see each other in court. Au revoir, Monsieur Dantin, and all my excuses!"
"Au revoir, Monsieur Bernardet, and all my compliments!"
The two men separated. Bernardet was on his way home to breakfast. He was late. Mme. Bernardet would be waiting, and a little red and breathless he hurried along. He stopped on hearing a newsboy announce the last number of Lutèce.
"Ask for the account of the trial to-morrow: The inquest by Paul Rodier on the crime of the Boulevard de Clichy!"
The newsboy saluted Bernardet whom he knew very well.
"Give me a paper!" said the police officer. The boy pulled out a paper from the package he was carrying, and waved it over his head like a flag.
"Ah! I understand, that interests you, Monsieur Bernardet!"
And while the little man looked for the heading Lutèce in capital letters—the title which Paul Rodier had given to a series of interviews with celebrated physicians, the newsboy, giving Bernardet his change, said:
"To-morrow is the trial. But there is no doubt, is there, Monsieur Bernardet? Pradès is condemned in advance!"
"He has confessed, it is an accomplished fact," Bernardet replied, pocketing his change.