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"Very hard, my friend, and yet that on the safe is still harder and thicker. So you see the scratch you discovered could not have been made by the trembling hand of a thief letting the key slip." "Sapristi!" exclaimed Fanferlot, stupefied: "I never should have thought of that. It certainly required great force to make the deep scratch on the safe." "Yes, but how was that force employed?
They were so engrossed with each other, that Fanferlot thought he could, without risk, follow them; and it was well he did; for the crowd was dense outside, and he would soon have lost them. Reaching the door, he saw the stout man and Gypsy cross the pavement, approach a hackney-coach, and enter it. "Very good," muttered Fanferlot, "I've got them now. There is no use of hurrying any more."
Investigation of the case was at first entrusted to a detective named Fanferlot, nicknamed by his comrades the "Squirrel." Fanferlot's examination of the premises resulted in little.
"I suppose I am stupid, if you think so," said poor Fanferlot humbly. "Well, after he had done blustering about the letters, M. le marquis dressed, and went out. He did not want his carriage, but I saw him hire a cab at the hotel door. I thought he had perhaps disappeared forever; but I was mistaken. About five o'clock he returned as gay as a bull-finch.
Nina hastily ran into her bedroom, and calling her maid, her cook, and her little footman, ordered them to empty her bureau and chests of their contents, and assisted them to stuff her best clothing and jewels into her trunks. Suddenly she rushed back to Fanferlot and said: "Everything will be ready to start in a few minutes, but where am I to go?"
And without waiting for his wife's reply, who cried out, "Good luck!" Fanferlot darted into the street. Mme. Gypsy had ten minutes' start of him; but he ran up the street he knew she must have taken, and overtook her near the Change Bridge.
His black cravat twisted around a paper collar, and ornamented by an imitation diamond pin; his long-tailed black boots and heavy cane, revealed the employee of the Rue de Jerusalem, as plainly as the shoulder-straps mark a soldier. Joseph Dubois had vanished forever; and from his livery, phoenix-like and triumphant, arose the radiant Fanferlot, surnamed the Squirrel.
He quietly placed his hat on the table, to show that he had no intention of attempting to escape, and passed into the adjoining room. Fanferlot also went out, but not before the commissary had made him a sign, and received one in return. This sign signified, "You are responsible for this man." The detective needed no admonition to make him keep a strict watch.
He walked dejectedly back to the quay, and it was half-past eleven when he reached his own door. "Has the little fool returned?" he inquired of Mme. Alexandre, the instant she opened the door for him. "No; but here are two large bundles which have come for her." Fanferlot hastily opened the bundles. They contained three calico dresses, some coarse shoes, and some linen caps.
Though the case looked black against Bertomy, for it was shown that he was heavily in debt, and living far beyond his means, Lecoq was satisfied that he had not committed the crime. When Fanferlot, hopelessly befogged, called for his advice at his house in the Rue Montmartre, the great detective deigned to explain the preliminary data and the deductions from the data he had made.
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