XIII
When the prisoner had gone, M. Segmuller sank back in his armchair,literally exhausted. He was in that state of nervous prostration whichso often follows protracted but fruitless efforts. He had scarcelystrength enough to bathe his burning forehead and gleaming eyes withcool, refreshing water.
This frightful examination had lasted no less than seven consecutivehours.
The smiling clerk, who had kept his place at his desk busily writing thewhole while, now rose to his feet, glad of an opportunity to stretch hislimbs and snap his fingers, cramped by holding the pen. Still, he wasnot in the least degree bored. He invariably took a semi-theatricalinterest in the dramas that were daily enacted in his presence; hisexcitement being all the greater owing to the uncertainty that shroudedthe finish of the final act--a finish that only too often belied theordinary rules and deductions of writers for the stage.
"What a knave!" he exclaimed after vainly waiting for the magistrate orthe detective to express an opinion, "what a rascal!"
M. Segmuller ordinarily put considerable confidence in his clerk's longexperience. He sometimes even went so far as to consult him, doubtlesssomewhat in the same style that Moliere consulted his servant. But, onthis occasion he did not accept his opinion.
"No," said he in a thoughtful tone, "that man is not a knave. When Ispoke to him kindly he was really touched; he wept, he hesitated. Icould have sworn that he was about to tell me everything."
"Ah, he's a man of wonderful power!" observed Lecoq.
The detective was sincere in his praise. Although the prisoner haddisappointed his plans, and had even insulted him, he could not helpadmiring his shrewdness and courage. He--Lecoq--had prepared himself fora strenuous struggle with this man, and he hoped to conquer in the end.Nevertheless in his secret soul he felt for his adversary, admiring thatsympathy which a "foeman worthy of one's steel" always inspires.
"What coolness, what courage!" continued the young detective. "Ah!there's no denying it, his system of defense--of absolute denial--is amasterpiece. It is perfect. How well he played that difficult part ofbuffoon! At times I could scarcely restrain my admiration. What is afamous comedian beside that fellow? The greatest actors need the adjunctof stage scenery to support the illusion, whereas this man, entirelyunaided, almost convinced me even against my reason."
"Do you know what your very appropriate criticism proves?" inquired themagistrate.
"I am listening, sir."
"Ah, well! I have arrived at this conclusion--either this man is reallyMay, the stroller, earning his living by paying compliments, as hesays--or else he belongs to the highest rank of society, and not to themiddle classes. It is only in the lowest or in the highest ranks thatyou encounter such grim energy as he has displayed, such scorn of life,as well as such remarkable presence of mind and resolution. A vulgartradesman attracted to the Poivriere by some shameful passion would haveconfessed it long ago."
"But, sir, this man is surely not the buffoon, May," replied the youngdetective.
"No, certainly not," responded M. Segmuller; "we must, therefore, decideupon some plan of action." He smiled kindly, and added, in a friendlyvoice: "It was unnecessary to tell you that, Monsieur Lecoq. Quiteunnecessary, since to you belongs the honor of having detected thisfraud. As for myself, I confess, that if I had not been warned inadvance, I should have been the dupe of this clever artist's talent."
The young detective bowed; a blush of modesty tinged his cheeks, but agleam of pleased vanity sparkled in his eyes. What a difference betweenthis friendly, benevolent magistrate and M. d'Escorval, so taciturn andhaughty. This man, at least, understood, appreciated, and encouragedhim; and it was with a common theory and an equal ardor that they wereabout to devote themselves to a search for the truth. Scarcely had Lecoqallowed these thoughts to flit across his mind than he reflected thathis satisfaction was, after all, a trifle premature, and that successwas still extremely doubtful. With this chilling conclusion, presenceof mind returned. Turning toward the magistrate, he exclaimed: "You willrecollect, sir, that the Widow Chupin mentioned a son of hers, a certainPolyte--"
"Yes."
"Why not question him? He must know all the frequenters of thePoivriere, and might perhaps give us valuable information regardingGustave, Lacheneur, and the murderer himself. As he is not in solitaryconfinement, he has probably heard of his mother's arrest; but it seemsto me impossible that he should suspect our present perplexity."
"Ah! you are a hundred times right!" exclaimed the magistrate. "I oughtto have thought of that myself. In his position he can scarcely havebeen tampered with as yet, and I'll have him up here to-morrow morning;I will also question his wife."
Turning to his clerk, M. Segmuller added: "Quick, Goguet, prepare asummons in the name of the wife of Hippolyte Chupin, and address anorder to the governor of the Depot to produce her husband!"
But night was coming on. It was already too dark to see to write, andaccordingly the clerk rang the bell for lights. Just as the messengerwho brought the lamps turned to leave the room, a rap was heard at thedoor. Immediately afterward the governor of the Depot entered.
During the past twenty-four hours this worthy functionary had beengreatly perplexed concerning the mysterious prisoner he had placedin secret cell No. 3, and he now came to the magistrate for adviceregarding him. "I come to ask," said he, "if I am still to retain theprisoner May in solitary confinement?"
"Yes."
"Although I fear fresh attacks of frenzy, I dislike to confine him inthe strait-jacket again."
"Leave him free in his cell," replied M. Segmuller; "and tell thekeepers to watch him well, but to treat him kindly."
By the provisions of Article 613 of the Code, accused parties are placedin the custody of the government, but the investigating magistrate isallowed to adopt such measures concerning them as he may deem necessaryfor the interest of the prosecution.
The governor bowed assent to M. Segmuller's instructions, and thenadded: "You have doubtless succeeded in establishing the prisoner'sidentity."
"Unfortunately, I have not."
The governor shook his head with a knowing air. "In that case," said he,"my conjectures were correct. It seems to me evident that this man isa criminal of the worst description--an old offender certainly, and onewho has the strongest interest in concealing his identity. You will findthat you have to deal with a man who has been sentenced to the galleysfor life, and who has managed to escape from Cayenne."
"Perhaps you are mistaken."
"Hum! I shall be greatly surprised if such should prove the case. Imust admit that my opinion in this matter is identical with that of M.Gevrol, the most experienced and the most skilful of our inspectors. Iagree with him in thinking that young detectives are often overzealous,and run after fantoms originated in their own brains."
Lecoq, crimson with wrath, was about to make an angry response when M.Segmuller motioned to him to remain silent. Then with a smile on hisface the magistrate replied to the governor. "Upon my word, my dearfriend," he said, "the more I study this affair, the more convinced Iam of the correctness of the theory advanced by the 'overzealous'detective. But, after all, I am not infallible, and I shall depend uponyour counsel and assistance."
"Oh! I have means of verifying my assertion," interrupted the governor;"and I hope before the end of the next twenty-four hours that ourman will have been identified, either by the police or by one of hisfellow-prisoners."
With these words he took his leave. Scarcely had he done so than Lecoqsprang to his feet. The young detective was furious. "You see thatGevrol already speaks ill of me; he is jealous."
"Ah, well! what does that matter to you? If you succeed, you will haveyour revenge. If you are mistaken--then I am mistaken, too."
Then, as it was already late, M. Segmuller confided to Lecoq's keepingthe various articles the latter had accumulated in support of histheory. He also placed in his hands the diamond earring, the owner ofwhich must be discovered; and the letter signed
"Lacheneur," which hadbeen found in the pocket of the spurious soldier. Having given himfull instructions, he asked him to make his appearance promptly onthe morrow, and then dismissed him, saying: "Now go; and may good luckattend you!"
Monsieur Lecoq, v. 1 Page 13