s fortunes.

"We'll see about that," murmured the inspector, mentally resolving to
have an eye on this youth whom success might transform into a rival. He
said no more, for the little party which he preceded had now overtaken
him, and he stood aside to make way for the commissary of police.

This commissary was far from being a novice. He had served for many
years, and yet he could not repress a gesture of horror as he entered
the Poivriere. The sergeant-major of the 53d, who followed him, an old
soldier, decorated and medaled--who had smelt powder many scores of
times--was still more overcome. He grew as pale as the corpses lying on
the ground, and was obliged to lean against the wall for support. The
two physicians alone retained their stoical indifference.

Lecoq had risen, his report in his hand; he bowed, and assuming a
respectful attitude, was waiting to be questioned.

"You must have passed a frightful night," said the commissary, kindly;
"and quite unnecessarily, since any investigation was superfluous."

"I think, however," replied the young police agent, having recourse
to all his diplomacy, "that my time has not been entirely lost. I have
acted according to the instructions of my superior officer; I have
searched the premises thoroughly, and I have ascertained many things.
I have, for example, acquired the certainty that the murderer had
a friend, possibly an accomplice, of whom I can give quite a close
description. He must have been of middle age, and wore, if I am not
mistaken, a soft cap and a brown woolen overcoat: as for his boots--"

"Zounds!" exclaimed Gevrol, "and I--" He stopped short, like a man whose
impulse had exceeded his discretion, and who would have gladly recalled
his words.

"And you?" inquired the commissary, "pray, what do you mean?"

The inspector had gone too far to draw back, and, unwittingly, was now
obliged to act as his own executioner. "I was about to mention," he
said, "that this morning, an hour or so ago, while I was waiting for
you, sir, before the station-house, at the Barriere d'Italie, where the
murderer is confined, I noticed close by an individual whose appearance
was not unlike that of the man described by Lecoq. This man seemed to
be very intoxicated, for he reeled and staggered against the walls. He
tried to cross the street, but fell down in the middle of it, in such a
position that he would inevitably have been crushed by the first passing
vehicle."

Lecoq t