d'Escorval had in charge has already been
divided among the other magistrates."
"I came here about that terrible affair that occurred the other night
just beyond the Barriere de Fontainebleau."
"Eh! Why didn't you say so at once? A messenger has been sent to the
prefecture after you already. M. Segmuller has charge of the case, and
he's waiting for you."
Doubt and perplexity were plainly written on Lecoq's forehead. He was
trying to remember the magistrate that bore this name, and wondered
whether he was a likely man to espouse his views.
"Yes," resumed the doorkeeper, who seemed to be in a talkative mood, "M.
Segmuller--you don't seem to know him. He is a worthy man, not quite so
grim as most of our gentlemen. A prisoner he had examined said one day:
'That devil there has pumped me so well that I shall certainly have my
head chopped off; but, nevertheless, he's a good fellow!"
His heart somewhat lightened by these favorable reports, Lecoq went
and tapped at a door that was indicated to him, and which bore the
number--22.
"Come in!" called out a pleasant voice.
The young detective entered, and found himself face to face with a
man of some forty years of age, tall and rather corpulent, who at once
exclaimed: "Ah! you are Lecoq. Very well--take a seat. I am busy just
now looking over the papers of the case, but I will attend to you in
five minutes."
Lecoq obeyed, at the same time glancing furtively at the magistrate
with whom he was about to work.
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