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Updated: May 5, 2025
One of the tracks betrayed a small, coquettish, slender foot, clad in an elegant high-heeled boot with a narrow sole and an arched instep. The other denoted a broad, short foot growing wider toward the end. It had evidently been incased in a strong, low shoe. This was indeed a clue. Lecoq's hopes at once revived; so eagerly does a man welcome any supposition that is in accordance with his desires.
"Certainly; how else could I have known it! He even mentioned the name you uttered just now, a name ending in 'euse." A strange thought had just flitted through Lecoq's mind. "What if May and the Duc de Sairmeuse should be one and the same person?"
M. Plantat was charged with watching Lecoq's investigations. As soon as the detective found himself alone with M. Plantat: "Well," he said, drawing a long breath, as if relieved of a heavy burden, "now we can get on." Plantat smiled; the detective munched a lozenge, and added: "It was very annoying to find the investigation already going on when I reached here.
The judge's whole theory tumbled to pieces if M. Lecoq's deductions were right; but he could not admit that he had been so much deceived; he could not renounce an opinion formed by deliberate reflection. "I don't pretend that Guespin is the only criminal," said he. "He could only have been an accomplice; and that he was." "An accomplice? No, Judge, he was a victim. Ah, Tremorel is a great rascal!
It would only have served me right if the liquor I bought with it had given me the gripes. Don't be uneasy about the score, and if you need a trap use mine for nothing, till you have caught the jades." As Lecoq's purse was low, he did not insist. "You will, at least, take my name and address?" continued the driver. "Certainly.
Indeed, had the tragedy at the Poivriere occurred in the times of Charlemagne, it could not have passed more thoroughly out of people's minds. It was remembered only in three places, at the Depot, at the Prefecture de Police, and at the Palais de Justice. M. Segmuller's repeated efforts had proved as unsuccessful as Lecoq's.
Gevrol, who for the past two hours had pretended to pay no attention to the proceedings, now approached. He was not the man to yield even to the strongest evidence. "If Monsieur, the Commissary, will listen to me, he shall hear my opinion, which is a trifle more definite than M. Lecoq's fancies."
In the struggle that scratch was made on the door which formed the basis of Lecoq's inquiries and enabled the great detective to unravel the mystery. Madeline, who all the while half guessed at the truth, and perceived without being told that Madame Fauvel was at the mercy of the count, had been prepared to sacrifice her future happiness in order to prevent the scandal being made public.
Such, however, was not Lecoq's intention, and he did not even move, though he had need of all his self-possession to retain his English accent. "This is very annoying," said he, "very! I am even more anxious and undecided than I was before, since I am not certain that this is the man I am seeking for." "Unfortunately, sir, I can tell you nothing more," calmly replied the landlady.
"You see," said he, while they were waiting to be served, "we must try to get at Laurence without Tremorel's knowing it. We must have a ten minutes' talk with her alone, and in the house. That is a condition absolutely necessary to our success." M. Plantat had evidently been expecting some immediate and decisive action, for M. Lecoq's remark filled him with alarm.
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