Monsieur Lecoq, v. 1

by Emile Gaboriau

  XIX

  Yet what a disappointment it produced after the fever of anxiety andexpectation that had seized hold of everybody present. This strangeepistle furnished no clue whatever to the mystery; and the ray of hopethat had sparkled for an instant in M. Segmuller's eyes speedily fadedaway. As for the versatile Goguet he returned with increased convictionto his former opinion, that the prisoner had the advantage over hisaccusers.

  "How unfortunate," remarked the governor of the Depot, with a shadeof sarcasm in his voice, "that so much trouble, and such marvelouspenetration, should be wasted!"

  "So you think, sir, that I have wasted my time!" rejoined Lecoq in atone of angry banter, a scarlet flush mantling at the same time over hisfeatures. "Such is not my opinion. This scrap of paper undeniably provesthat if any one has been mistaken as regards the prisoner's identity, itis certainly not I."

  "Very well," was the reply. "M. Gevrol and myself may have beenmistaken: no one is infallible. But have you learned anything more thanyou knew before? Have you made any progress?"

  "Why, yes. Now that people know the prisoner is not what he pretends tobe, instead of annoying and hampering me, perhaps they will assist us todiscover who he really is."

  Lecoq's tone, and his allusion to the difficulties he had encountered,cut the governor to the quick. The knowledge that the reproof was notaltogether undeserved increased his resentment and determined him tobring this discussion with an inferior to an abrupt close. "You areright," said he, sarcastically. "This May must be a very great andillustrious personage. Only, my dear Monsieur Lecoq (for there is anonly), do me the favor to explain how such an important personage coulddisappear, and the police not be advised of it? A man of rank, suchas you suppose this prisoner to be, usually has a family, friends,relatives, proteges, and numerous connections; and yet not a singleperson has made any inquiry during the three weeks that this fellow Mayhas been under my charge! Come, admit you never thought of that."

  The governor had just advanced the only serious objection that could befound to the theory adopted by the prosecution. He was wrong, however,in supposing that Lecoq had failed to foresee it; for it had never oncebeen out of the young detective's mind; and he had racked his brainagain and again to find some satisfactory explanation. At the presentmoment he would undoubtedly have made some angry retort to thegovernor's sneering criticism, as people are wont to do when theirantagonists discover the weak spot in their armor, had not M. Segmulleropportunely intervened.

  "All these recriminations do no good," he remarked, calmly; "we can makeno progress while they continue. It would be much wiser to decide uponthe course that is now to be pursued."

  Thus reminded of the present situation of affairs, the young detectivesmiled; all his rancor was forgotten. "There is, I think, but one courseto pursue," he replied in a modest tone; "and I believe it willbe successful by reason of its simplicity. We must substitute acommunication of our own composition for this one. That will not beat all difficult, since I have the key to the cipher. I shall onlybe obliged to purchase a similar volume of Beranger's songs; and May,believing that he is addressing his accomplice, will reply in allsincerity--will reveal everything perhaps--"

  "Excuse me!" interrupted the governor, "but how will you obtainpossession of his reply?"

  "Ah! you ask me too much. I know the way in which his letters havereached him. For the rest, I will watch and find a way--never fear!"

  Goguet, the smiling clerk, could not conceal an approving grin. If hehad happened to have ten francs in his pocket just then he would haverisked them all on Lecoq without a moment's hesitation.

  "First," resumed the young detective, "I will replace this missive byone of my own composition. To-morrow, at breakfast time, if the prisonergives the signal, Father Absinthe shall throw the morsel of breadenclosing my note through the window while I watch the effect throughthe hole in the ceiling of the cell."

  Lecoq was so delighted with this plan of his that he at once rang thebell, and when the magistrate's messenger appeared, he gave him half afranc and requested him to go at once and purchase some of the thinnesttissue paper. When this had been procured, Lecoq took his seat at theclerk's desk, and, provided with the volume of Beranger's songs, beganto compose a fresh note, copying as closely as possible the forms of thefigures used by the unknown correspondent. The task did not occupy himmore than ten minutes, for, fearing lest he might commit some blunder,he reproduced most of the words of the original letter, giving them,however, an entirely different meaning.

  When completed, his note read as follows: "I have told her your wishes;she does not submit. Our safety is threatened. We are awaiting yourorders. I tremble."

  Having acquainted the magistrate with the purport of the note, Lecoqnext rolled up the paper, and enclosing it in the fragment of bread,remarked: "To-morrow we shall learn something new."

  To-morrow! The twenty-four hours that separated the young man from thedecisive moment he looked forward to seemed as it were a century; and heresorted to every possible expedient to hasten the passing of the time.At length, after giving precise instructions to Father Absinthe, heretired to his loft for the night. The hours seemed interminable, andsuch was his nervous excitement that he found it quite impossible tosleep. On rising at daybreak he discovered that the prisoner was alreadyawake. May was sitting on the foot of his bed, apparently plunged inthought. Suddenly he sprang to his feet and paced restlessly to andfro. He was evidently in an unusually agitated frame of mind: for hegesticulated wildly, and at intervals repeated: "What misery! My God!what misery!"

  "Ah! my fine fellow," thought Lecoq, "you are anxious about the dailyletter you failed to receive yesterday. Patience, patience! One of mywriting will soon arrive."

  At last the young detective heard the stir usually preceding thedistribution of the food. People were running to and fro, sabots clickednoisily in the corridors, and the keepers could be heard engaged in loudconversation. By and by the prison bell began to toll. It was eleveno'clock, and soon afterward the prisoner commenced to sing his favoritesong:

  "Diogene! Sous ton manteau, libre et content--"

  Before he commenced the third line the slight sound caused by thefragment of bread as it fell upon the stone floor caused him to pauseabruptly.

  Lecoq, at the opening in the ceiling above, was holding his breathand watching with both eyes. He did not miss one of the prisoner'smovements--not so much as the quiver of an eyelid. May looked first atthe window, and then all round the cell, as if it were impossible forhim to explain the arrival of this projectile. It was not until somelittle time had elapsed that he decided to pick it up. He held it inthe hollow of his hand, and examined it with apparent curiosity. Hisfeatures expressed intense surprise, and any one would have sworn thathe was innocent of all complicity. Soon a smile gathered round his lips,and after a slight shrug of the shoulders, which might be interpreted,"Am I a fool?" he hastily broke the pellet in half. The sight of thepaper which it contained seemed to amaze him.

  "What does all this mean?" wondered Lecoq.

  The prisoner had opened the note, and was examining with knitted browsthe figures which were apparently destitute of all meaning to him. Then,suddenly rushing to the door of his cell, and hammering upon it withclenched fists, he cried at the top of his voice: "Here! keeper! here!"

  "What do you want?" shouted a turnkey, whose footsteps Lecoq could hearhastening along the adjoining passage.

  "I wish to speak to the magistrate."

  "Very well. He shall be informed."

  "Immediately, if you please. I have a revelation to make."

  "He shall be sent for immediately."

  Lecoq waited to hear no more. He tore down the narrow staircase leadingfrom the loft, and rushed to the Palais de Justice to acquaint M.Segmuller with what had happened.

  "What can all this mean?" he wondered as he darted over the pavement."Are we indeed approaching a denouement? This much is certain, theprisoner was not deceived by my note. He could only deci
pher it withthe aid of his volume of Beranger, and he did not even touch the book;plainly, then, he hasn't read the letter."

  M. Segmuller was no less amazed than the young detective. They bothhastened to the prison, followed by the smiling clerk, who was themagistrate's inevitable shadow. On their way they encountered thegovernor of the Depot, arriving all in a flutter, having been greatlyexcited by that important word "revelation." The worthy officialundoubtedly wished to express an opinion, but the magistrate checked himby the abrupt remark, "I know all about it, and I am coming."

  When they had reached the narrow corridor leading to the secret cells,Lecoq passed on in advance of the rest of the party. He said to himselfthat by stealing upon the prisoner unawares he might possibly find himengaged in surreptitiously reading the note. In any case, he would havean opportunity to glance at the interior of the cell. May was seatedbeside the table, his head resting on his hands. At the grating of thebolt, drawn by the governor himself, the prisoner rose to his feet,smoothed his hair, and remained standing in a respectful attitude,apparently waiting for the visitors to address him.

  "Did you send for me?" inquired the magistrate.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You have, I understand, some revelation to make to me."

  "I have something of importance to tell you."

  "Very well! these gentlemen will retire."

  M. Segmuller had already turned to Lecoq and the governor to requestthem to withdraw, when the prisoner motioned him not to do so.

  "It is not necessary," said May, "I am, on the contrary, very wellpleased to speak before these gentlemen."

  "Speak, then."

  May did not wait for the injunction to be repeated. Throwing hischest forward, and his head back as had been his wont throughout hisexaminations, whenever he wished to make an oratorical display, hebegan as follows: "It shall be for you to say, gentlemen, whether I'm anhonest man or not. The profession matters little. One may, perhaps, actas the clown of a traveling show, and yet be an honest man--a man ofhonor."

  "Oh, spare us your reflections!"

  "Very well, sir, that suits me exactly. To be brief, then here is alittle paper which was thrown into my cell a few minutes ago. There aresome numbers on it which may mean something; but I have examined them,and they are quite Greek to me."

  He paused, and then handing Lecoq's missive to the magistrate, quietlyadded: "It was rolled up in a bit of bread."

  This declaration was so unexpected, that it struck all the officialsdumb with surprise, but the prisoner, without seeming to notice theeffect he had produced, placidly continued: "I suppose the person whothrew it, made a mistake in the window. I know very well that it'sa mean piece of business to denounce a companion in prison. It's acowardly act and one may get into trouble by doing so; still, afellow must be prudent when he's charged with murder as I am, and withsomething very unpleasant, perhaps, in store for him."

  A terribly significant gesture of severing the head from the bodyleft no doubt whatever as to what May meant by the "something veryunpleasant."

  "And yet I am innocent," continued May, in a sorrowful, reproachfultone.

  The magistrate had by this time recovered the full possession of hisfaculties. Fixing his eyes upon the prisoner and concentrating in onemagnetic glance all his power of will, he slowly exclaimed: "You speakfalsely! It was for you that this note was intended."

  "For me! Then I must be the greatest of fools, or why should I have sentfor you to show it you? For me? In that case, why didn't I keep it? Whoknew, who could know that I had received it?"

  These words were uttered with such a marvelous semblance of honesty,May's gaze was frank and open, his voice rang so true, and his reasoningwas so specious, that all the governor's doubts returned.

  "And what if I could prove that you are uttering a falsehood?" insistedM. Segmuller. "What if I could prove it--here and now?"

  "You would have to lie to do so! Oh! pardon! Excuse me; I mean--"

  But the magistrate was not in a frame of mind to stickle for nicetyof expression. He motioned May to be silent; and, turning to Lecoq,exclaimed: "Show the prisoner that you have discovered the key to hissecret correspondence."

  A sudden change passed over May's features. "Ah! it is this agent ofpolice who says the letter was for me," he remarked in an altered tone."The same agent who asserts that I am a grand seigneur." Then, lookingdisdainfully at Lecoq, he added: "Under these circumstances there's nohope for me. When the police are absolutely determined that a man shallbe found guilty, they contrive to prove his guilt; everybody knows that.And when a prisoner receives no letters, an agent, who wishes to showthat he is corresponding knows well enough how to write to him."

  May's features wore such an expression of marked contempt that Lecoqcould scarcely refrain from making an angry reply. He restrained hisimpulse, however, in obedience to a warning gesture from the magistrate,and taking from the table the volume of Beranger's songs, he endeavoredto prove to the prisoner that each number in the note which he had shownM. Segmuller corresponded with a word on the page indicated, andthat these various words formed several intelligible phrases. Thisoverpowering evidence did not seem to trouble May in the least. Afterexpressing the same admiration for this novel system of correspondencethat a child would show for a new toy, he declared his belief that noone could equal the police in such machinations.

  What could have been done in the face of such obstinacy? M. Segmullerdid not even attempt to argue the point, but quietly retired, followedby his companions. Until they reached the governor's office, he did notutter a word; then, sinking down into an armchair, he exclaimed: "Wemust confess ourselves beaten. This man will always remain what heis--an inexplicable enigma."

  "But what is the meaning of the comedy he has just played? I do notunderstand it at all," remarked the governor.

  "Why," replied Lecoq, "don't you see that he wished to persuade themagistrate that the first note, the one that fell into the cell whileyou and I were there yesterday, had been written by me in a mad desireto prove the truth of my theory at any cost? It was a hazardous project;but the importance of the result to be gained must have emboldened himto attempt it. Had he succeeded, I should have been disgraced; and hewould have remained May--the stroller, without any further doubt as tohis identity. But how could he know that I had discovered his secretcorrespondence, and that I was watching him from the loft overhead? Thatwill probably never be explained."

  The governor and the young detective exchanged glances of mutualdistrust. "Eh! eh!" thought the former, "yes, indeed, that note whichfell into the cell while I was there the other day might after all havebeen this crafty fellow's work. His Father Absinthe may have served himin the first instance just as he did subsequently."

  While these reflections were flitting through the governor's mind, Lecoqsuspiciously remarked to himself: "Who knows but what this fool ofa governor confided everything to Gevrol? If he did so, the General,jealous as he is, would not have scrupled to play one such a damagingtrick."

  His thoughts had gone no further when Goguet, the smiling clerk, boldlybroke the silence with the trite remark: "What a pity such a clevercomedy didn't succeed."

  These words startled the magistrate from his reverie. "Yes, a shamefulfarce," said he, "and one I would never have authorized, had I not beenblinded by a mad longing to arrive at the truth. Such tricks only bringthe sacred majesty of justice into contempt!"

  At these bitter words, Lecoq turned white with anger. This was thesecond affront within an hour. The prisoner had first insulted him, andnow it was the magistrate's turn. "I am defeated," thought he. "I mustconfess it. Fate is against me! Ah! if I had only succeeded!"

  Disappointment alone had impelled M. Segmuller to utter these harshwords; they were both cruel and unjust, and the magistrate soonregretted them, and did everything in his power to drive them fromLecoq's recollection. They met every day after this unfortunateincident; and every morning, when the young detective came to give anaccount of his i
nvestigations, they had a long conference together. ForLecoq still continued his efforts; still labored on with an obstinacyintensified by constant sneers; still pursued his investigations withthat cold and determined zeal which keeps one's faculties on the alertfor years.

  The magistrate, however, was utterly discouraged. "We must abandon thisattempt," said he. "All the means of detection have been exhausted.I give it up. The prisoner will go to the Assizes, to be acquitted orcondemned under the name of May. I will trouble myself no more about thematter."

  He said this, but the anxiety and disappointment caused by defeat,sneering criticism, and perplexity, as to the best course to be pursued,so affected his health that he became really ill--so ill that he had totake to his bed.

  He had been confined to his room for a week or so, when one morningLecoq called to inquire after him.

  "You see, my good fellow," quoth M. Segmuller, despondently, "that thismysterious murderer is fatal to us magistrates. Ah! he is too much forus; he will preserve the secret of his identity."

  "Possibly," replied Lecoq. "At all events, there is now but one way leftto discover his secret; we must allow him to escape--and then track himto his lair."

  This expedient, although at first sight a very startling one, was not ofLecoq's own invention, nor was it by any means novel. At all times, incases of necessity, have the police closed their eyes and opened theprison doors for the release of suspected criminals. And not a few,dazzled by liberty and ignorant of being watched, have foolishlybetrayed themselves. All prisoners are not like the Marquis deLavalette, protected by royal connivance; and one might enumeratemany individuals who have been released, only to be rearrested afterconfessing their guilt to police spies or auxiliaries who have won theirconfidence.

  Naturally, however, it is but seldom, and only in special cases, and asa last resort, that such a plan is adopted. Moreover, the authoritiesonly consent to it when they hope to derive some important advantage,such as the capture of a whole band of criminals. For instance,the police perhaps arrest one of a band. Now, despite his criminalpropensities the captured culprit often has a certain sense of honor--weall know that there is honor among thieves--which prompts him to refuseall information concerning his accomplices. In such a case what is to bedone? Is he to be sent to the Assizes by himself, tried and convicted,while his comrades escape scot free? No; it is best to set him atliberty. The prison doors are opened, and he is told that he is free.But each after step he takes in the streets outside is dogged by skilfuldetectives; and soon, at the very moment when he is boasting of his goodluck and audacity to the comrades he has rejoined, the whole gang findthemselves caught in the snare.

  M. Segmuller knew all this, and much more, and yet, on hearing Lecoq'sproposition, he made an angry gesture and exclaimed: "Are you mad?"

  "I think not, sir."

  "At all events your scheme is a most foolish one!"

  "Why so, sir? You will recollect the famous murder of the Chaboiseaus.The police soon succeeded in capturing the guilty parties; but a robberyof a hundred and sixty thousand francs in bank-notes and coin had beencommitted at the same time, and this large sum of money couldn't befound. The murderers obstinately refused to say where they had concealedit; for, of course, it would prove a fortune for them, if they everescaped the gallows. In the mean while, however, the children of thevictims were ruined. Now, M. Patrigent, the magistrate who investigatedthe affair, was the first to convince the authorities that it would bebest to set one of the murderers at liberty. His advice was followed;and three days later the culprit was surprised unearthing the money fromamong a bed of mushrooms. Now, I believe that our prisoner--"

  "Enough!" interrupted M. Segmuller. "I wish to hear no more on thematter. I have, it seems to me, forbidden you to broach the subject."

  The young detective hung his head with a hypocritical air of submission.But all the while he watched the magistrate out of the corner of his eyeand noted his agitation. "I can afford to be silent," he thought; "hewill return to the subject of his own accord."

  And in fact M. Segmuller did return to it only a moment afterward."Suppose this man were released from prison," said he, "what would youdo?"

  "What would I do, sir! I would follow him like grim death; I would notonce let him out of my sight; I would be his shadow."

  "And do you suppose he wouldn't discover this surveillance?"

  "I should take my precautions."

  "But he would recognize you at a single glance."

  "No, sir, he wouldn't, for I should disguise myself. A detective whocan't equal the most skilful actor in the matter of make-up is nobetter than an ordinary policeman. I have only practised at it for atwelvemonth, but I can easily make myself look old or young, dark orlight, or assume the manner of a man of the world, or of some frightfulruffian of the barrieres."

  "I wasn't aware that you possessed this talent, Monsieur Lecoq."

  "Oh! I'm very far from the perfection I hope to arrive at; though I mayventure to say that in three days from now I could call on you and talkwith you for half an hour without being recognized."

  M. Segmuller made no rejoinder; and it was evident to Lecoq that themagistrate had offered this objection rather in the hope of its beingoverruled, than with the wish to see it prevail.

  "I think, my poor fellow," he at length observed, "that you arestrangely deceived. We have both been equally anxious to penetratethe mystery that enshrouds this strange man. We have both admiredhis wonderful acuteness--for his sagacity is wonderful; so marvelous,indeed, that it exceeds the limits of imagination. Do you believe thata man of his penetration would betray himself like an ordinary prisoner?He will understand at once, if he is set at liberty, that his freedom isonly given him so that we may surprise his secret."

  "I don't deceive myself, sir. May will guess the truth of course. I'mquite aware of that."

  "Very well. Then, what would be the use of attempting what you propose?"

  "I have come to this conclusion," replied Lecoq, "May will find himselfstrangely embarrassed, even when he's set free. He won't have a souin his pocket; we know he has no trade, so what will he do to earn aliving? He may struggle along for a while; but he won't be willing tosuffer long. Man must have food and shelter, and when he finds himselfwithout a roof over his head, without even a crust of bread to break, hewill remember that he is rich. Won't he then try to recover possessionof his property? Yes, certainly he will. He will try to obtain money,endeavor to communicate with his friends, and I shall wait till thatmoment arrives. Months may elapse, before, seeing no signs of mysurveillance, he may venture on some decisive step; and then I willspring forward with a warrant for his arrest in my hand."

  "And what if he should leave Paris? What if he should go abroad?"

  "Oh, I will follow him. One of my aunts has left me a little land in theprovinces worth about twelve thousand francs. I will sell it, and spendthe last sou, if necessary, so long as I only have my revenge. This manhas outwitted me as if I were a child, and I must have my turn."

  "And what if he should slip through your fingers?"

  Lecoq laughed like a man that was sure of himself. "Let him try," heexclaimed; "I will answer for him with my life."

  "Your idea is not a bad one," said M. Segmuller, eventually. "Butyou must understand that law and justice will take no part in suchintrigues. All I can promise you is my tacit approval. Go, therefore, tothe Prefecture; see your superiors--"

  With a really despairing gesture, the young man interrupted M.Segmuller. "What good would it do for me to make such a proposition?"he exclaimed. "They would not only refuse my request, but they woulddismiss me on the spot, if my name is not already erased from the roll."

  "What, dismissed, after conducting this case so well?"

  "Ah, sir, unfortunately every one is not of that opinion. Tongues havebeen wagging busily during your illness. Somehow or other, my enemieshave heard of the last scene we had with May; and impudently declarethat it was I who imagined all the romantic
details of this affair,being eager for advancement. They pretend that the only reasons to doubtthe prisoner's identity are those I have invented myself. To hear themtalk at the Depot, one might suppose that I invented the scene in theWidow Chupin's cabin; imagined the accomplices; suborned the witnesses;manufactured the articles of conviction; wrote the first note incipher as well as the second; duped Father Absinthe, and mystified thegovernor."

  "The deuce!" exclaimed M. Segmuller; "in that case, what do they thinkof me?"

  The wily detective's face assumed an expression of intenseembarrassment.

  "Ah! sir," he replied with a great show of reluctance, "they pretendthat you have allowed yourself to be deceived by me, and that youhaven't weighed at their proper worth the proofs I've furnished."

  A fleeting flush mantled over M. Segmuller's forehead. "In a word," saidhe, "they think I'm your dupe--and a fool besides."

  The recollection of certain sarcastic smiles he had often detected onthe faces of colleagues and subordinates alike, the memory ofnumerous covert allusions to Casper Hauser, and the Man with theIron Mask--allusions which had stung him to the quick--induced him tohesitate no longer.

  "Very well! I will aid you, Monsieur Lecoq," he exclaimed. "I shouldlike you to triumph over your enemies. I will get up at once andaccompany you to the Palais de Justice. I will see the public prosecutormyself; I will speak to him, and plead your case for you."

  Lecoq's joy was intense. Never, no never, had he dared to hope for suchassistance. Ah! after this he would willingly go through fire on M.Segmuller's behalf. And yet, despite his inward exultation, he hadsufficient control over his feelings to preserve a sober face. Thisvictory must be concealed under penalty of forfeiting the benefits thatmight accrue from it. Certainly, the young detective had said nothingthat was untrue; but there are different ways of presenting the truth,and he had, perhaps, exaggerated a trifle in order to excite themagistrate's rancor, and win his needful assistance.

  "I suppose," remarked M. Segmuller, who was now quite calm again--nooutward sign of wounded vanity being perceptible--"I suppose youhave decided what stratagem must be employed to lull the prisoner'ssuspicions if he is permitted to escape."

  "I must confess I haven't given it a thought," replied Lecoq. "Besides,what good would any such stratagem do? He knows too well that he isthe object of suspicion not to remain on the alert. Still, there is oneprecaution which I believe absolutely necessary, indispensable indeed,if we wish to be successful."

  "What precaution do you mean?" inquired the magistrate.

  "Well, sir, I think an order should be given to have May transferred toanother prison. It doesn't in the least matter which; you can select theone you please."

  "Why should we do that?"

  "Because, during the few days preceding his release, it is absolutelynecessary he should hold no communication with his friends outside, andthat he should be unable to warn his accomplice."

  "Then you think he's badly guarded where he is?" inquired M. Segmullerwith seeming amazement.

  "No, sir, I did not say that. I am satisfied that since the affairof the cipher note the governor's vigilance has been unimpeachable.However, news from outside certainly reaches the suspected murdererat the Depot; we have had material evidence--full proof of that--andbesides--"

  The young detective paused in evident embarrassment. He plainly had someidea in his head to which he feared to give expression.

  "And besides?" repeated the magistrate.

  "Ah, well, sir! I will be perfectly frank with you. I find that Gevrolenjoys too much liberty at the Depot; he is perfectly at home there, hecomes and goes as he likes, and no one ever thinks of asking what he isdoing, where he is going, or what he wants. No pass is necessary for hisadmission, and he can influence the governor just as he likes. Now, totell the truth, I distrust Gevrol."

  "Oh! Monsieur Lecoq!"

  "Yes, I know very well that it's a bold accusation, but a man is notmaster of his presentiments: so there it is, I distrust Gevrol. Didthe prisoner know that I was watching him from the loft, and that I haddiscovered his secret correspondence, was he ignorant of it? To my mindhe evidently knew everything, as the last scene we had with him proves."

  "I must say that's my own opinion," interrupted M. Segmuller.

  "But how could he have known it?" resumed Lecoq. "He could not havediscovered it by himself. I endured tortures for a while in the hope ofsolving the problem. But all my trouble was wasted. Now the suppositionof Gevrol's intervention would explain everything."

  M. Segmuller had turned pale with anger. "Ah! if I could really believethat!" he exclaimed; "if I were sure of it! Have you any proofs?"

  The young man shook his head. "No," said he, "I haven't; but even if myhands were full of proofs I should not dare to show them. I shouldruin my future. Ah, if ever I succeed, I must expect many such acts oftreachery. There is hatred and rivalry in every profession. And, markthis, sir--I don't doubt Gevrol's honesty. If a hundred thousand francswere counted out upon the table and offered to him, he wouldn't even tryto release a prisoner. But he would rob justice of a dozen criminals inthe mere hope of injuring me, jealous as he is, and fearing lest I mightobtain advancement."

  How many things these simple words explained. Did they not give the keyto many and many an enigma which justice has failed to solve, simply onaccount of the jealousy and rivalry that animate the detective force?Thus thought M. Segmuller, but he had no time for further reflection.

  "That will do," said he, "go into the drawing-room for a moment. I willdress and join you there. I will send for a cab: for we must make hasteif I am to see the public prosecutor to-day."

  Less than a quarter of an hour afterward M. Segmuller, who usually spentconsiderable time over his toilet, was dressed and ready to start. Heand Lecoq were just getting into the cab that had been summoned when afootman in a stylish livery was seen approaching.

  "Ah! Jean," exclaimed the magistrate, "how's your master?"

  "Improving, sir," was the reply. "He sent me to ask how you were, and toinquire how that affair was progressing?"

  "There has been no change since I last wrote to him. Give him mycompliments, and tell him that I am out again."

  The servant bowed. Lecoq took a seat beside the magistrate and the cabstarted off.

  "That fellow is one of D'Escorval's servants," remarked M. Segmuller."He's richer than I, and can well afford to keep a footman."

  "D'Escorval's," ejaculated Lecoq, "the magistrate who--"

  "Precisely. He sent his man to me two or three days ago to ascertainwhat we were doing with our mysterious May."

  "Then M. d'Escorval is interested in the case?"

  "Prodigiously! I conclude it is because he opened the prosecution, andbecause the case rightfully belongs to him. Perhaps he regrets thatit passed out of his hands, and thinks that he could have managed theinvestigation better himself. We would have done better with it if wecould. I would give a good deal to see him in my place."

  But this change would not have been at all to Lecoq's taste. "Ah,"thought he, "such a fellow as D'Escorval would never have shown me suchconfidence as M. Segmuller." He had, indeed, good reason to congratulatehimself: for that very day M. Segmuller, who was a man of his word,a man who never rested until he had carried his plan into execution,actually induced the authorities to allow May to be set at liberty; andthe details of this measure only remained to be decided upon. As regardsthe proposed transfer of the suspected murderer to another prison, thiswas immediately carried into effect, and May was removed to Mazas, whereLecoq had no fear of Gevrol's interference.

  That same afternoon, moreover, the Widow Chupin received her conditionalrelease. There was no difficulty as regards her son, Polyte. He had, inthe mean time, been brought before the correctional court on a chargeof theft; and, to his great astonishment, had heard himself sentenced tothirteen months' imprisonment. After this, M. Segmuller had nothingto do but to wait, and this was the easier as the advent of the Easterholidays g
ave him an opportunity to seek a little rest and recreationwith his family in the provinces.

  On the day he returned to Paris--the last of the recess, and by chancea Sunday--he was sitting alone in his library when his cook came totell him that there was a man in the vestibule who had been sent froma neighboring register office to take the place of a servant he hadrecently dismissed. The newcomer was ushered into the magistrate'spresence and proved to be a man of forty or thereabouts, very red inthe face and with carroty hair and whiskers. He was, moreover, stronglyinclined to corpulence, and was clad in clumsy, ill-fitting garments.In a complacent tone, and with a strong Norman accent, he informedthe magistrate that during the past twenty years he had been in theemployment of various literary men, as well as of a physician, andnotary; that he was familiar with the duties that would be requiredof him at the Palais de Justice, and that he knew how to dust paperswithout disarranging them. In short, he produced such a favorableimpression that, although M. Segmuller reserved twenty-four hours inwhich to make further inquiries, he drew a twenty-franc piece from hispocket on the spot and tendered it to the Norman valet as the firstinstalment of his wages.

  But instead of pocketing the proffered coin, the man, with a suddenchange of voice and attitude, burst into a hearty laugh, exclaiming: "Doyou think, sir, that May will recognize me?"

  "Monsieur Lecoq!" cried the astonished magistrate.

  "The same, sir; and I have come to tell you that if you are ready torelease May, all my arrangements are now completed."