Lecoq, at the opening in the ceiling above, was holding his breath
and watching with both eyes. He did not miss one of the prisoner's
movements--not so much as the quiver of an eyelid. May looked first at
the window, and then all round the cell, as if it were impossible for
him to explain the arrival of this projectile. It was not until some
little time had elapsed that he decided to pick it up. He held it in
the hollow of his hand, and examined it with apparent curiosity. His
features expressed intense surprise, and any one would have sworn that
he was innocent of all complicity. Soon a smile gathered round his lips,
and after a slight shrug of the shoulders, which might be interpreted,
"Am I a fool?" he hastily broke the pellet in half. The sight of the
paper which it contained seemed to amaze him.
"What does all this mean?" wondered Lecoq.
The prisoner had opened the note, and was examining with knitted brows
the figures which were apparently destitute of all meaning to him. Then,
suddenly rushing to the door of his cell, and hammering upon it with
clenched fists, he cried at the top of his voice: "Here! keeper! here!"
"What do you want?" shouted a turnkey, whose footsteps Lecoq could hear
hastening along the adjoining passage.
"I wish to speak to the magistrate."
"Very well. He shall be informed."
"Immediately, if you please. I have a revelation to make."
"He shall be sent for immediately."
Lecoq waited to hear no more.
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