his record with a dazed air, the woman
exclaimed: "Ah! now I can explain how it happened that I forgot the
man's name and strange profession--'foreign artist.' I did not make the
entry myself."

"Who made it, then?"

"The man himself, while I was finding ten francs to give him as change
for the louis he handed me. You can see that the writing is not at all
like that of other entries."

Lecoq had already noted this circumstance, which seemed to furnish an
irrefutable argument in favor of the assertions made by the landlady
and the prisoner. "Are you sure," he asked, "that this is the man's
handwriting?"

In his anxiety he had forgotten his English accent. The woman noticed
this at once, for she drew back, and cast a suspicious glance at the
pretended foreigner. "I know what I am saying," she said, indignantly.
"And now this is enough, isn't it?"

Knowing that he had betrayed himself, and thoroughly ashamed of his lack
of coolness, Lecoq renounced his English accent altogether. "Excuse me,"
he said, "if I ask one more question. Have you this man's trunk in your
possession?"

"Certainly."

"You would do me an immense service by showing it to me."

"Show it to you!" exclaimed the landlady, angrily. "What do you take me
for? What do you want? and who are you?"

"You shall know in half an hour," replied the young detective, realizing
that further persuasion would be useless.

He hastily left the room, ran to the Place de Roubaix, jumped into a
cab, and giving the driver the address of the district commissary of
police, promised him a hundred sous over and above the regular fare
if he would only make haste. As might have been expected under such
circumstances, the poor horse fairly flew over the ground.

Lecoq was fortunate enough to find the commissary at his office.
Having given his name, he was immediately ushered into the magistrate's
presence and told his story in a few words.

"It is really true that they came to inform me of this man's
disappearance," said the commissary. "Casimir told me about it this
morning."

"They--came--to inform--you--" faltered Lecoq.

"Yes, yesterday; but I have had so much to occupy my time. Now, my man,
how can I serve you?"

"Come with me, sir; compel them to show us the trunk, and send for a
locksmith to open it. Here is the authority--a search warrant given me
by the investigating magistrate to use in case of necessity. Let us lose
no time. I have a cab at the door."