Four o'clock was striking when Lecoq sprang from his bed on which he had
thrown himself without undressing; and five minutes later he was walking
down the Rue Montmartre. The weather was still cold and muggy; and a
thick fog hung over the city. But the young detective was too
engrossed with his own thoughts to pay attention to any atmospherical
unpleasantness. Walking with a brisk stride, he had just reached the
church of Saint Eustache, when a coarse, mocking voice accosted him with
the exclamation: "Ah, ha! my fine fellow!"
He looked up and perceived Gevrol, who, with three of his men, had come
to cast his nets round about the markets, whence the police generally
return with a good haul of thieves and vagabonds.
"You are up very early this morning, Monsieur Lecoq," continued the
inspector; "you are still trying to discover our man's identity, I
suppose?"
"Still trying."
"Is he a prince in disguise, or only a marquis?"
"One or the other, I am quite certain."
"All right then. In that case you will not refuse us the opportunity to
drink to your success."
Lecoq consented, and the party entered a wine-shop close by. When the
glasses were filled, Lecoq turned to Gevrol and exclaimed: "Upon my
word, General, our meeting will save me a long walk. I was going to the
prefecture to request you, on M. d'Escorval's behalf, to send one of
our comrades to the Morgue this morning. The affair at the Poivriere has
been noised about, and all the world will be there, so he desires some
officer to be present to watch the crowd and listen to the remarks of
the visitors.
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