You thought that perhaps Monsieur Plantat
had not told it to anybody, and you wanted to prevent him from
speaking again forever."
Robelot made a sign of protesting.
"Shut up now," said M. Lecoq. "And your cutlass?"
While this conversation was going on, M. Plantat reflected.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "I've spoken too soon."
"Why so?" asked M. Lecoq. "I wanted a palpable proof for Monsieur
Domini; we'll give him this rascal, and if he isn't satisfied, he's
difficult to please."
"But what shall we do with him?"
"Shut him up somewhere in the house; if necessary, I'll tie him up."
"Here's a dark closet."
"Is it secure?"
"There are thick walls on three sides of it, and the fourth is
closed with a double door; no openings, no windows, nothing."
"Just the place."
M. Plantat opened the closet, a black-looking hole, damp, narrow,
and full of old books and papers.
"There," said M. Lecoq to his prisoner, "in here you'll be like a
little king," and he pushed him into the closet. Robelot did not
resist, but he asked for some water and a light. They gave him a
bottle of water and a glass.
"As for a light," said M.
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