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Updated: June 23, 2025
He was obliged to ask himself if this was really the same man he had seen some hours previously at the Poivriere, standing on the threshold of the inner door, and holding the whole squad of police agents in check by the intense fury of his attitude. Now, on the contrary, he seemed, as it were, the personification of weakness and despondency.
He could no longer conceal his delight; his eyes sparkled as might those of a conqueror taking possession of some vast empire: he stamped his foot upon the floor and exclaimed with exultation: "Now the mystery belongs to us two alone!" Authorized by Gevrol to choose one of his comrades to remain with him at the Poivriere, Lecoq had requested the least intelligent of the party to keep him company.
While doing his best to keep pace with his companion, who was in such haste to get back to the Poivriere that he almost ran, Father Absinthe's thoughts were as busy as his legs, and an entirely new train of ideas was awakened in his mind.
"If the man who took part in the broil at the Poivriere had been the Duc de Sairmeuse, he would have disclosed his name he would have declared that, having been attacked, he had only defended himself and his name alone would have opened the prison doors. Instead of that, what did the prisoner do? He attempted to kill himself.
He fell against a corner of the table, and did not rise again." M. Segmuller had unfolded upon his desk the plan of the Poivriere drawn by Lecoq. "Come here," he said, addressing the prisoner, "and show me on this paper the precise spot you and your adversaries occupied." May obeyed, and with an assurance of manner a little surprising in a man in his position, he proceeded to explain the drama.
Any one unacquainted with the antecedents of the landlady of the Poivriere would certainly have been impressed by her apparent candor, so skillfully did she affect a display of frankness, surprise, and fear.
"We started in pursuit of a man who is implicated in the murders at the Poivriere," he said; "one who came here hoping to find you alone, who was frightened at seeing us." "A murderer!" faltered Toinon, with clasped hands. "What could he want of me?" "Who knows? It is very probable that he is one of your husband's friends." "Oh! sir."
"When the murderer repaired to the Poivriere with the two women, his companion I should say his accomplice came here to wait. He was a tall man of middle age; he wore a soft hat and a shaggy brown overcoat; he was, moreover, probably married, or had been so, as he had a wedding-ring on the little finger of his right hand " His companion's despairing gestures obliged the speaker to pause.
"Listen," said he, with affected harshness. "Two questions only, and then I will leave you. Was there a man named Gustave among the frequenters of the Poivriere?" "No, sir, I'm quite sure there wasn't." "Very well. But Lacheneur you must know Lacheneur!" "Yes, sir; I know him." The young police agent could not repress an exclamation of delight.
And if Martial followed his wife into the Poivriere, Jean had so arranged matters that the duke would at first suppose that she had been led there by charity. "But he will not go in," thought Lacheneur, whose heart throbbed wildly with sinister joy as he held Martial's horse. "Monsieur le Duc is too fine for that." And Martial did not go in.
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