Lecoq was only ten yards distant, and could see that his face
was pallid. His attitude expressed profound dejection and one could read
his indecision in his eyes. Perhaps he was wondering if it would not
be best to return and place himself again in the hands of his jailers,
since he was without the resources upon which he had depended.
After a little, however, he shook off the torpor that had for a time
overpowered him; his eyes brightened, and, with a gesture of defiance,
he left the steps, crossed the open square and walked down the Rue de
l'Ancienne-Comedie. He strode onward now with the brisk, determined step
of a man who has a definite aim in view.
"Who knows where he is going now?" murmured Father Absinthe, as he
trotted along by Lecoq's side.
"I do," replied the young detective. "And the proof is, that I am going
to leave you, and run on in advance, to prepare for his reception. I
may be mistaken, however, and as we must be prepared for any emergency,
leave me the chalk-marks as you go along. If our man doesn't come to
the Hotel de Mariembourg, as I think he will, I shall come back here to
start in pursuit of you again."
Just then an empty cab chanced to be passing, and Lecoq hastily got into
it, telling the driver to take him to the Northern Railway Station by
the shortest route and as quickly as possible. As time was precious, he
handed the cabman his fare while on the road, and then began to search
his pocket-book, among the various documents confided to him by M.
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