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Send Christophe to the Rue du Buffon, tell him to ask for M. Gondureau in the house where you saw me before. Your servant, sir. If you should ever have anything stolen from you, come to me, and I will do my best to get it back for you." "Well, now," Poiret remarked to Mlle. Michonneau, "there are idiots who are scared out of their wits by the word police.
Michonneau had very nearly made up her mind to warn the convict and to throw herself on his generosity, with the idea of making a better bargain for herself by helping him to escape that night; but as it was, she went out escorted by Poiret in search of the famous chief of detectives in the Petite Rue Saint-Anne, still thinking that it was the district superintendent one Gondureau with whom she had to do.
They rally round him; he is the backbone of the federation, its Bonaparte, in short; he is very popular with them all. The rogue will never leave his chump in the Place de Greve." As Mlle. Michonneau seemed mystified, Gondureau explained the two slang words for her benefit.
"Mademoiselle," this M. Gondureau was saying, "I do not see any cause for your scruples. His Excellency, Monseigneur the Minister of Police " "Yes, his Excellency is taking a personal interest in the matter," said Gondureau.
And if you should want to see me in a hurry, go to the Petite Rue Saint-Anne at the bottom of the Cour de la Sainte-Chapelle. There is one door under the archway. Ask there for M. Gondureau." Bianchon, on his way back from Cuvier's lecture, overheard the sufficiently striking nickname of Trompe-la-Mort, and caught the celebrated chief detective's "Done!" "Why didn't you close with him?
Wherefore, M. Gondureau, who seemed to know something of human nature, recognized Poiret at once as one of those dupes of officialdom, and brought out for his benefit, at the proper moment, the deus ex machina, the magical words "His Excellency," so as to dazzle Poiret just as he himself unmasked his batteries, for he took Poiret and the Michonneau for the male and female of the same species.
Michonneau went on, "make it three thousand francs if he is Trompe-la-Mort, and nothing at all if he is an ordinary man." "Done!" said Gondureau, "but on the condition that the thing is settled to-morrow." "Not quite so soon, my dear sir; I must consult my confessor first." "You are a sly one," said the detective as he rose to his feet. "Good-bye till to-morrow, then.
As soon as you are alone, you give him a slap on the shoulder, and presto! the letters will appear." "Why, that is just nothing at all," said Poiret. "Well, do you agree?" said Gondureau, addressing the old maid. "But, my dear sir, suppose there are no letters at all," said Mlle. Michonneau; "am I to have the two thousand francs all the same?" "No." "What will you give me then?"
Michonneau. "You see how it is, mademoiselle," Gondureau continued. "The Government may have the strongest reasons for getting this illicit hoard into its hands; it mounts up to something considerable, by all that we can make out. Trompe-la-Mort not only holds large sums for his friends the convicts, but he has other amounts which are paid over to him by the Society of the Ten Thousand "
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