who can scarcely restrain his applause until the close
of the aria that delights him, Father Absinthe had been unable during
the recital to entirely suppress his admiration. But it was not until
Lecoq ceased speaking that he gave full vent to his enthusiasm: "Here is
a detective if you like!" he exclaimed. "And they pretend that Gevrol is
shrewd! What has he ever done to compare with this? Ah! shall I tell you
what I think? Why, in comparison with you, the General is a more John
the Baptist."

Certainly the flattery was gross, but it was impossible to doubt its
sincerity. This was the first time that the balmy dew of praise had
fallen upon Lecoq's vanity, and it greatly delighted him, although he
modestly replied: "Nonsense, you are too kind, papa. After all, what
have I done that is so very clever? I told you that the man was of
middle age. It was not difficult to see that after one had examined his
heavy, dragging step. I told you that he was tall--an easy matter. When
I saw that he had been leaning upon that block of granite there to the
left, I measured the block in question. It is almost five feet five
inches in height, consequently a man who could rest his elbow upon it
must be at least six feet high. The mark of his hand proves that I am
not mistaken. On seeing that he had brushed away the snow which covered
the plank, I asked myself what he had used; I thought that it might be
his cap, and the mark left by the peak proves that I was right. Finally,
if I have discovered the color and the material of his overcoat, it is
only because when he wiped the wet board, some splinters of the wood
tore off a few tiny flakes of brown wool, which I have found, and which
will figure in the trial. But what does this amount to, after all?
Nothing. We have only discovered the first clues of the affair. Still,
we are on the right scent--so, forward then!"

The old officer was electrified, and, like an echo, he repeated:
"Forward!"

IV

That night the vagabonds, who had taken refuge in the neighborhood of
the Poivriere, had a very bad time of it; for while those who managed
to sleep were disturbed by frightful dreams of a police raid, those who
remained awake witnessed some strange incidents, well calculated to
fill their minds with terror. On hearing the shots fired inside Mother
Chupin's drinking den, most of the vagrants concluded that there had
been a collision between the police and some of their comrades, and they