is
indirect threat scarcely touched him. Having previously made inquiries
he had ascertained that he could not be condemned to more than six
months' imprisonment for the offense for which he had been arrested; and
what did a month more or less matter to him?

The magistrate, who read this thought in Polyte's eyes, cut his preamble
short. "Justice," said he, "now requires some information from you
concerning the frequenters of your mother's establishment."

"There are a great many of them, sir," answered Polyte in a harsh voice.

"Do you know one of them named Gustave?"

"No, sir."

To insist would probably awaken suspicion in Polyte's mind; accordingly,
M. Segmuller continued: "You must, however, remember Lacheneur?"

"Lacheneur? No, this is the first time I've heard that name."

"Take care. The police have means of finding out a great many things."

The scapegrace did not flinch. "I am telling the truth, sir," he
retorted. "What interest could I possibly have in deceiving you?"

Scarcely had he finished speaking than the door suddenly opened and
Toinon the Virtuous entered the room, carrying her child in her arms.
On perceiving her husband, she uttered a joyful exclamation, and sprang
toward him. But Polyte, stepping back, gave her such a threatening
glance that she remained rooted to the spot.

"It must be an enemy who pretends that I know any one named Lacheneur!"
cried the barriere bully. "I should like to kill the person who uttered
such a falsehood. Yes, kill him; I will never forgive it."

The messenger whom M. Segmuller had instructed to go in search of Lecoq
was not at all displeased with the errand; for it enabled him to leave
his post and take a pleasant little stroll through the neighborhood. He
first of all proceeded to the Prefecture of Police, going the longest
way round as a matter of course, but, on reaching his destination, he
could find no one who had seen the young detective.

Accordingly, M. Segmuller's envoy retraced his steps, and leisurely
sauntered through the restaurants, cafes, and wine shops installed in
the vicinity of the Palais de Justice, and dependent on the customers
it brought them. Being of a conscientious turn of mind, he entered
each establishment in succession and meeting now and again various
acquaintances, he felt compelled to proffer and accept numerous glasses
of the favorite morning beverage--white wine. Turn which way he would,
however, loiter as long as he might