"The commissary of police is not here," said a clerk; "but there is an
inspector who takes his place. Would you like to speak to him? Are you
in haste?"

"Yes," said Marius.

The clerk introduced him into the commissary's office. There stood a
tall man behind a grating, leaning against a stove, and holding up with
both hands the tails of a vast topcoat, with three collars. His face
was square, with a thin, firm mouth, thick, gray, and very ferocious
whiskers, and a look that was enough to turn your pockets inside out.
Of that glance it might have been well said, not that it penetrated, but
that it searched.

This man's air was not much less ferocious nor less terrible than
Jondrette's; the dog is, at times, no less terrible to meet than the
wolf.

"What do you want?" he said to Marius, without adding "monsieur."

"Is this Monsieur le Commissaire de Police?"

"He is absent. I am here in his stead."

"The matter is very private."

"Then speak."

"And great haste is required."

"Then speak quick."

This calm, abrupt man was both terrifying and reassuring at one and the
same time. He inspired fear and confidence. Marius related the adventure
to him: That a person with whom he was not acquainted otherwise than by
sight, was to be inveigled into a trap that very evening; that, as he
occupied the room adjoining the den, he, Marius Pontmercy, a lawyer,
had heard the whole plot through the partition; that the wretch who
had planned the trap was a certain Jondrette; that there would be
accomplices, probably some prowlers of the barriers, among others a
certain Panchaud, alias Printanier, alias Bigrenaille; that Jondrette's
daughters were to lie in wait; that there was no way of warning the
threatened man, since he did not even know his name; and that, finally,
all this was to be carried out at six o'clock that evening, at the most
deserted point of the Boulevard de l'Hopital, in house No. 50-52.

At the sound of this number, the inspector raised his head, and said
coldly:--

"So it is in the room at the end of the corridor?"

"Precisely," answered Marius, and he added: "Are you acquainted with
that house?"

The inspector remained silent for a moment, then replied, as he warmed
the heel of his boot at the door of the stove:--

"Apparently."

He went on, muttering between his teeth, and not addressing Marius so
much as his cravat:--

"Patron-Minette must have had a hand in this."

This word struck Mari