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Updated: May 5, 2025
He was wearied, too, of a punishment which began anew each morning; he saw himself lost, and his wife sacrificing herself for the malignant pleasure of sacrificing him. Terrified, he took the resolution to commit this murder." Many of the circumstances which had established M. Lecoq's conviction had escaped Dr. Gendron. "What!" cried he, stupefied.
Although Lecoq's vehemence was intense, he did not succeed in making any impression upon his companion, who with a yawn that threatened to dislocate his jaws replied: "Perhaps you are right; but I am going to bed. This need not prevent you from searching around, however; and if you find anything you can wake me." Lecoq made no sign of impatience: nor in reality was he impatient.
A new idea inspired by his genius for investigation had just crossed Lecoq's mind. Pushing a chair in front of the prisoner, and spreading a newspaper over it, he said: "Will you place your foot there?" The man did not comply with the request. "It is useless to resist," exclaimed the governor, "we are in force." The prisoner delayed no longer.
What ruse they will employ, I can't divine. But I know that it will be nothing hackneyed." Lecoq's presumptions made Father Absinthe nervous. "The surest way, perhaps," ventured the latter, "would be to lock him up again!" "No!" replied the young detective. "I want his secret, and I'll have it. What will be said of us if we two allow this man to escape us?
He swore that he was acquainted with the habits of the house; that Monday evening was a grand gala night there, and that on these occasions the servants didn't lock up the plate. After a little while I consented." A fleeting flush tinged Lecoq's pale cheeks. "Are you sure he told you that the Duc de Sairmeuse received every Monday evening?" he asked, eagerly.
Grateful for this information, Lecoq returned to the cab. The Rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles, whither Papillon was now directed to drive, proved to be very unlike the Boulevard Malesherbes, and one brief glance sufficed to show that opulence had not here fixed its abode. Luck seemed for the moment to have turned in Lecoq's favor.
No doubt they promised him a handsome fare; this is indeed evident, since he consented to go back again. He turned round here; they got into the vehicle, and that is why the footprints go no further." This explanation did not please Lecoq's companion. "Have we made any great progress now that we know that?" he asked. Lecoq could not restrain an impulse to shrug his shoulders.
For an instant he was a believer in Lecoq's theory; and he was impressed by the strangeness of this conflict between a prisoner, determined to preserve the secret of his identity, and the agent for the prosecution, equally determined to wrest it from him. "Upon my word, my boy, you are not wanting in courage and energy," said he.
"Who knows where he is going now?" murmured Father Absinthe, as he trotted along by Lecoq's side. "I do," replied the young detective. "And the proof is, that I am going to leave you, and run on in advance, to prepare for his reception. I may be mistaken, however, and as we must be prepared for any emergency, leave me the chalk-marks as you go along.
A bland smile passed over Lecoq's face as, drawing a folded letter from his pocket, he answered, "Perhaps you are acquainted with the handwriting of your daughter. Well, then, listen to what she wrote not so very long ago to the very Paul who is sitting on the sofa there. "'We should be guilty of the deepest ingratitude if " "Enough! Enough!" cried the banker in a hoarse voice. "Lost, lost, lost!
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