In spite of the extreme cold, the air outside seemed to refresh him considerably, and he inhaled it with the happy feeling that he had performed his duty in a manner worthy of all praise.

He walked up the Rue de Faubourg Saint Honore, and again entered the _cafe_ where he and his worthy confederate had agreed to meet.

Mascarin was there, an untasted cutlet before him, and his face hidden by a newspaper which his anxiety would not permit him to peruse.

His suspense was terrible.

Had Hortebise failed?
had he encountered one of those unforeseen obstacles which, like a minute grain of sand, utterly hinders the working of a piece of delicate machinery?
"Well, what news ?" said he eagerly, as soon as he caught sight of the doctor.
"Success, perfect success!" said Hortebise gayly.