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Updated: June 5, 2025
I have often said to myself, 'Perhaps he doesn't want to disturb me; it is very thoughtful on his part, and he seems to enjoy it so." The concierge spoke with his eyes fixed on the gold piece. When he raised his head to examine the countenance of his lord and master, old Tabaret had disappeared. "There's another!" said the concierge to himself.
As he went, he staggered like a drunken man. M. Lecoq went up to M. Plantat, and taking off his hat: "I surrender," said he, "and bow to you; you are great, like my master, the great Tabaret." The detective's amour-propre was clearly aroused; his professional zeal was inspired; he found himself before a great crime one of those crimes which triple the sale of the Gazette of the Courts.
I am rather tired to-night." Then he added, addressing his clerk, "Constant, look in at the record office, in case the prisoner Commarin should wish to speak to me." He moved towards the door; but M. Tabaret barred his exit. "Sir," said the old man, "in the name of heaven listen to me! He is innocent, I swear to you. Help me, then, to find the real culprit.
On the same day that the crime of La Jonchere was discovered, and precisely at the hour that M. Tabaret made his memorable examination in the victim's chamber, the Viscount Albert de Commarin entered his carriage, and proceeded to the Northern railway station, to meet his father.
"I would advise you, sir, to distrust old Tabaret." "Really? And for what reason?" "The old fellow allows himself to be carried away too much by appearances. He has become an amateur detective for the sake of popularity, just like an author; and, as he is vainer than a peacock, he is apt to lose his temper and be very obstinate.
"That now," cried the old fellow indignantly, "is even more infamous than all the rest." "Do not accuse my father," answered Noel gravely; "his connection with Madame Gerdy lasted a long time. I remember a haughty-looking man who used sometimes to come and see me at school, and who could be no other than the count. But the rupture came." "Naturally," sneered M. Tabaret, "a great nobleman "
Old Tabaret put so much warmth and vivacity into this exclamation, that Noel looked at him with astonishment. He felt his face grow red, and he hastened to explain himself. "I said, 'you too," he continued, "because I, thanks perhaps to my inexperience, am persuaded also of this young man's innocence.
Lecoq sprang up with sparkling eyes. "I see it clearly now," he exclaimed. "The father of the present Duc de Sairmeuse tried to have the father of the present M. d'Escorval beheaded." M. Tabaret was the picture of complacency. "You see the assistance history gives," said he. "But I have not finished, my boy; the present Duc de Sairmeuse also has his article which will be of interest to us.
Would a grand seigneur, like the Duc de Sairmeuse, to whom life must be a perpetual enchantment, have thought of committing suicide?" A mocking whistle from the old Tabaret interrupted the speaker. "You seem to have forgotten the last sentence in his biography: 'M. Sairmeuse leaves behind him ill-will and hatred. Do you know the price he might have been compelled to pay for his liberty!
He is going to be married; and I have just renewed bills of his for twenty-six thousand francs. Good-bye, M. Tabaret." The usurer hurried away, leaving the poor old fellow standing like a milestone in the middle of the pavement. He experienced something of that terrible grief which breaks a father's heart when he begins to realize that his dearly loved son is perhaps the worst of scoundrels.
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