ee your superiors--"

With a really despairing gesture, the young man interrupted M.
Segmuller. "What good would it do for me to make such a proposition?"
he exclaimed. "They would not only refuse my request, but they would
dismiss me on the spot, if my name is not already erased from the roll."

"What, dismissed, after conducting this case so well?"

"Ah, sir, unfortunately every one is not of that opinion. Tongues have
been wagging busily during your illness. Somehow or other, my enemies
have heard of the last scene we had with May; and impudently declare
that it was I who imagined all the romantic details of this affair,
being eager for advancement. They pretend that the only reasons to doubt
the prisoner's identity are those I have invented myself. To hear them
talk at the Depot, one might suppose that I invented the scene in the
Widow Chupin's cabin; imagined the accomplices; suborned the witnesses;
manufactured the articles of conviction; wrote the first note in
cipher as well as the second; duped Father Absinthe, and mystified the
governor."

"The deuce!" exclaimed M. Segmuller; "in that case, what do they think
of me?"

The wily detective's face assumed an expression of intense
embarrassment.

"Ah! sir," he replied with a great show of reluctance, "they pretend
that you have allowed yourself to be deceived by me, and that you
haven't weighed at their proper worth the proofs I've furnished."

A fleeting flush mantled over M. Segmuller's forehead. "In a word," said
he, "they think I'm your dupe--and a fool besides."

The recollection of certain sarcastic smiles he had often detected on
the faces of colleagues and subordinates alike, the memory of
numerous covert allusions to Casper Hauser, and the Man with the
Iron Mask--allusions which had stung him to the quick--induced him to
hesitate no longer.

"Very well! I will aid you, Monsieur Lecoq," he exclaimed. "I should
like you to triumph over your enemies. I will get up at once and
accompany you to the Palais de Justice. I will see the public prosecutor
myself; I will speak to him, and plead your case for you."

Lecoq's joy was intense. Never, no never, had he dared to hope for such
assistance. Ah! after this he would willingly go through fire on M.
Segmuller's behalf. And yet, despite his inward exultation, he had
sufficient control over his feelings to preserve a sober face. This
victory must be concealed under penalty of forfeiting the benefits that