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Your letter thwarted all my plans, and made it impossible for me to keep my promise. I have nothing more to say." He turned to leave the room, but Nina barred his exit. "Caldas," she murmured, "I implore you to have pity on me! I am so miserable! Ah, if you only knew! Be forgiving to one who has always loved you, Caldas! Listen." Prosper departed from M. Lecoq's office alone.
A messenger has been sent to the prefecture after you already. M. Segmuller has charge of the case, and he's waiting for you." Doubt and perplexity were plainly written on Lecoq's forehead. He was trying to remember the magistrate that bore this name, and wondered whether he was a likely man to espouse his views.
A bucket of iced water falling upon Lecoq's head could not have astonished him more than did this announcement from the proprietress of the Hotel de Mariembourg. Had the prisoner indeed told the truth? Was it possible? Gevrol and the governor of the prison were right, then, and M. Segmuller and he, Lecoq, were senseless fools, pursuing a fantom.
Father Absinthe had risen, frantic with delight. "Cristi!" he exclaimed, "that's it! that's it!" Lecoq's approbation was none the less evident although unspoken. He could appreciate this rapid and wonderful work of induction far better than his companion.
He chose some shrewd and humble upholsterer, ordered his goods, made sure that they would be delivered on a certain day, and paid for them." M. Plantat could not repress a joyful exclamation; he began to see M. Lecoq's drift. "This merchant," pursued the latter, "must have retained his rich customer in his memory, this customer who did not beat him down, and paid cash.
"You see that Gevrol already speaks ill of me; he is jealous." "Ah, well! what does that matter to you? If you succeed, you will have your revenge. If you are mistaken then I am mistaken, too." Then, as it was already late, M. Segmuller confided to Lecoq's keeping the various articles the latter had accumulated in support of his theory.
In such cases they lost the trail, and it required all Lecoq's sagacity and all his companion's good-will to find it again. On such occasions Father Absinthe planted his cane in the earth, near the last footprint that had been discovered, and Lecoq and himself hunted all over the ground around this point, much after the fashion of a couple of bloodhounds thrown off the scent.
I conclude it is because he opened the prosecution, and because the case rightfully belongs to him. Perhaps he regrets that it passed out of his hands, and thinks that he could have managed the investigation better himself. We would have done better with it if we could. 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.
Unfortunately for Lecoq's vanity, the good fellow spoke at a moment when the time for idle conversation had passed. The prison van was just crossing the bridge at a brisk trot. "Attention!" exclaimed the young detective, "there comes our friend! Quick! to your post; remember my directions, and keep your eyes open!"
The man in gold spectacles burst out laughing, and clapped his hands with glee. "What, dear sir," said he, "don't you know me? Look at me well it is I Monsieur Lecoq!" And to convince him, he took off his spectacles. Those might, indeed, be Lecoq's eyes, and that his voice; M. Plantat was confounded. "I never should have recognized you," said he.
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