The
first impulse of the older man would have been to rest to breathe, but
Lecoq did not give him time to do so.
"Make haste: get me a dish--a plate--anything!" cried the young
detective, "and bring me some water; gather together all the boards and
old boxes you can find lying about."
While his companion was obeying him, Lecoq armed himself with a fragment
of one of the broken bottles, and began scraping away furiously at the
plastered wall that separated the two rooms.
His mind, disconcerted at first by the imminence of this unexpected
catastrophe, a fall of rain, had now regained its equilibrium. He had
reflected, he had thought of a way by which failure might possibly be
averted--and he hoped for ultimate success. When he had accumulated some
seven or eight handfuls of fine plaster dust, he mixed one-half with a
little water so as to form a thin paste, leaving the rest untouched on
the side of the plate.
"Now, papa," said he, "come and hold the light for me."
When in the garden, the young man sought for the deepest and most
distinct of the footprints, knelt beside it, and began his experiment,
trembling with anxiety. He first sprinkled upon the impression a fine
coating of dry plaster, and then upon this coating, with infinite care,
he poured his liquid solution drop by drop.
What luck! the experiment was successful! The plaster united in a
homogeneous mass, forming a perfect model of the impression. Thus, after
an hour's labor, Lecoq possessed half a dozen of these casts, which
might, perhaps, be a little wanting in clearness of outline, but which
were quite perfect enough to be used as evidence.
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