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Updated: June 11, 2025
A wild fear seizes the throng; and these men flee madly, despairingly, scattered as withered leaves are scattered by the power of the tempest. Chupin's stupefying revelations and the thought that Martial, the heir of his name and dukedom, should degrade himself so low as to enter into a conspiracy with vulgar peasants, drove the Duc de Sairmeuse nearly wild.
The long drive in Father Papillon's cab was not a fruitless one. The secretary of the commissary of police for the thirteenth arrondissement informed Lecoq that Polyte Chupin's wife lived with her child, in the suburbs, in the Rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles. He could not indicate the precise number, but he described the house and gave them some information concerning its occupants.
Who is this accomplice who, after your arrest, dared to enter the Widow Chupin's den to regain possession of some compromising object no doubt a letter which he knew he would find in the pocket of the Widow Chupin's apron? Who is this devoted, courageous friend who feigned drunkenness so effectually that even the police were deceived, and thoughtlessly placed him in confinement with you?
"What!" added Gevrol to his companions, "don't you know Mother Chupin's drinking-shop there on the right. Run." And, setting the example, he dashed off in the direction indicated. His men followed, and in less than a minute they reached a hovel of sinister aspect, standing alone, in a tract of waste ground. It was indeed from this den that the cries had proceeded.
These two questions tormented Jean's mind continually; but he could discover no satisfactory answer. "Chupin's son could tell me, perhaps," he thought. "I must pretend to be reconciled to the sons of the wretch who betrayed my father." But the traitor's children had been dead for several years, and after a long search, Jean found only the Widow Chupin and her son, Polyte.
Such was not Lecoq's opinion, however. "Well, yes, Monsieur Tabaret," said he, "the idea did occur to me; but I drove it away." "And why, if you please?" "Because because " "Because you would not believe in the logical sequence of your premises; but I am consistent, and I say that it seems impossible the murderer arrested in the Widow Chupin's drinking den should be the Duc de Sairmeuse.
He did not delude himself with false hopes, and he had noticed between the Widow Chupin's eyebrows those furrows which, according to physiognomists, indicate a senseless, brutish obstinacy. "Women never confess," resumed the magistrate; "and even when they seemingly resign themselves to such a course they are not sincere. They fancy they have discovered some means of misleading their examiner.
When Gevrol had torn the apron off Widow Chupin's head he had thrown it upon the steps of the stairs; neither of the police agents had since touched it. And yet the pockets of this apron were now turned inside out; this was a proof, this was evidence. At this discovery Lecoq was overcome with consternation, and the contraction of his features revealed the struggle going on in his mind.
But a robust young fellow, with an intelligent face, who, perhaps, read Father Chupin's secret heart, brusquely interrupted him: "What does the presence of the Duc de Sairmeuse at Montaignac matter to us?" he exclaimed. "Let him remain at the Hotel de France as long as he chooses; we shall not go in search of him." "No! we shall not go in search of him," echoed the other peasants, approvingly.
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