An instant afterward a heavy thud
might have been heard. He had let himself drop into the garden. The man
in the slouch hat remained in the street to watch.
The enigmatical fugitive had accomplished this strange, inconceivable
design so swiftly that Lecoq had neither the time nor the desire to
oppose him. His amazement at this unexpected misfortune was so great
that for, an instant he could neither think nor move. But he quickly
regained his self-possession, and at once decided what was to be done.
With a sure eye he measured the distance separating him from May's
accomplice, and with three bounds he was upon him. The man in the
slouched hat attempted to shout, but an iron hand stifled the cry in
his throat. He tried to escape, and to beat off his assailant, but a
vigorous kick stretched him on the ground as if he had been a child.
Before he had time to think of further resistance he was bound, gagged,
and carried, half-suffocated, to the corner of the Rue de la Chaise. No
sound had been heard; not a word, not an ejaculation, not even a noise
of shuffling--nothing. Any suspicious sound might have reached May, on
the other side of the wall, and warned him of what was going on.
"How strange," murmured Father Absinthe, too much amazed to lend a
helping hand to his younger colleague. "How strange! Who would have
supposed--"
"Enough! enough!" interrupted Lecoq, in that harsh, imperious voice,
which imminent peril always gives to energetic men.
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