ing!" he repeated to himself. "Whenever
circumstances bring me a new element of information, it confirms my
supposition. On the one hand, I have the absolute certainty of the
banks of the Seine; on the other, the certainty of the National Road.
The two means of communication meet at the Havre, the town of Francis
I., the town of the secret. The boundaries are contracting. The Caux
country is not large; and, even so, I have only the western portion of
the Caux country to search."

He set to work with renewed stubbornness:

"Anything that Lupin has found," he kept on saying to himself, "there
is no reason for my not finding."

Certainly, Lupin had some great advantage over him, perhaps a thorough
acquaintance with the country, a precise knowledge of the local
legends, or less than that, a memory: invaluable advantages these, for
he, Beautrelet, knew nothing, was totally ignorant of the country,
which he had first visited at the time of the Ambrumesy burglary and
then only rapidly, without lingering.

But what did it matter? Though he had to devote ten years of his life
to this investigation, he would carry it to a successful issue. Lupin
was there. He could see him, he could feel him there. He expected to
come upon him at the next turn of the road, on the skirt of the next
wood, outside the next village. And, though continually disappointed,
he seemed to find in each disappointment a fresh reason for persisting.

Often, he would fling himself on the slope by the roadside and plunge
into wild examination of the copy of the document which he always
carried on him, a copy, that is to say, with vowels taking the place of
the figures:

e . a . a . . e . . e . a . . a . .
a . . . e . e . . e . oi . e . . e .
. ou . . e . o . . . e . . e . o . . e

[Illustration: drawing of an outline of paper with writing and drawing
on it--numbers, dots, some letters, signs and symbols...]

ai . ui . . e . . eu . e

Often, also, according to his habit, he would lie down flat on his
stomach in the tall grass and think for hours. He had time enough. The
future belonged to him.

With wonderful patience, he tramped from the Seine to the sea, and from
the sea to the Seine, going gradually farther, retracing his steps and
never quitting the ground until, theoretically speaking, there was not
a chance left of gathering the smallest particle upon it.

He studied and explored Montivilliers and Saint-Romani and Oc