e should have entered the Black Maria without hesitation. Such
conduct was quite possible, indeed almost probable on the part of a man,
endowed with considerable strength of will, and realizing the imminence
of his peril. But granting this, would he be equally able to hide his
feelings when he was obliged to submit to the humiliating formalities
that awaited him--formalities which in certain cases can, and must, be
pushed even to the verge of insult and outrage?

No; Lecoq could not believe that this would be possible. He felt sure
that the disgraceful position in which the prisoner would find himself
would cause him to revolt, to lose his self-control, to utter some word
that might give the desired clue.

It was not until the gloomy vehicle had turned off the Pont Neuf on to
the Quai de l'Horloge that the young detective became conscious of what
was transpiring around him. Soon the van passed through an open gateway,
and drew up in a small, damp courtyard.

Lecoq immediately alighted, and opened the door of the compartment in
which the supposed murderer was confined, exclaiming as he did so: "Here
we are, get out." There was no fear of the prisoner escaping. The iron
gate had been closed, and at least a dozen agents were standing near at
hand, waiting to have a look at the new arrivals.

The prisoner slowly stepped to the ground. His expression of face
remained unchanged, and each gesture evinced the perfect indifference of
a man accustomed to such ordeals.

Lecoq scrutinized his demeanor as attentively as an anatomist might have
watched the action of a muscle. He noted that the prisoner seemed to
experience a sensation of satisfaction directly his foot touched
the pavement of the courtyard, that he drew a long breath, and then
stretched and shook himself, as if to regain the elasticity of his
limbs, cramped by confinement in the narrow compartment from which he
had just emerged. Then he glanced around him, and a scarcely perceptible
smile played upon his lips. One might have sworn that the place was
familiar to him, that he was well acquainted with these high grim walls,
these grated windows, these heavy doors--in short, with all the sinister
belongings of a prison.

"Good Lord!" murmured Lecoq, greatly chagrined, "does he indeed
recognize the place?"

And his sense of disappointment and disquietude increased when, without
waiting for a word, a motion, or a sign, the prisoner turned toward
one of the five or s