From their manner and appearance, I judged them to be clerks in some
store or warehouse. Suddenly I noticed that one of them turned as white
as his shirt; and calling the attention of his companions to one of the
unknown victims, he whispered: 'Gustave!'

"His comrades put their hands over his mouth, and one of them exclaimed:
'What are you about, you fool, to mix yourself up with this affair! Do
you want to get us into trouble?'

"Thereupon they went out, and I followed them. But the person who had
first spoken was so overcome that he could scarcely drag himself along;
and his companions were obliged to take him to a little restaurant close
by. I entered it myself, and it is there I write this letter, in the
mean time watching them out of the corner of my eye. I send this note,
explaining my absence, to the head keeper, who will give it you. You
will understand that I am going to follow these men. A. B. S."

The handwriting of this letter was almost illegible; and there were
mistakes in spelling in well-nigh every line; still, its meaning was
clear and exact, and could not fail to excite the most flattering hopes.

Lecoq's face was so radiant when he returned to the cab that, as the old
coachman urged on his horse, he could not refrain from saying: "Things
are going on to suit you."

A friendly "hush!" was the only response. It required all Lecoq's
attention to classify this new information. When he alighted from the
cab in front of the Palais de Justice, he experienced considerable
difficulty in dismissing the old cabman, who insisted upon remaining at
his orders. He succeeded at last, however, but even when he had reached
the portico on the left side of the building, the worthy fellow,
standing up, still shouted at the top of his voice: "At M. Trigault's
house--don't forget--Father Papillon--No. 998--1,000 less 2--"

Lecoq had entered the left wing of the Palais. He climbed the stairs
till he had reached the third floor, and was about to enter the long,
narrow, badly-lighted corridor known as the Galerie de l'Instruction,
when, finding a doorkeeper installed behind a heavy oaken desk, he
remarked: "M. d'Escorval is, of course, in his office?"

The man shook his head. "No," said he, "M. d'Escorval is not here this
morning, and he won't be here for several weeks."

"Why not! What do you mean?"

"Last night, as he was alighting from his carriage, at his own door, he
had a most unfortunate fall, and broke his