"If I had been there! If only I had been there!" he murmured regretfully
every now and then through his set teeth, though when Lecoq's story was
finished, enthusiasm seemed decidedly to have gained the upper hand.
"It is beautiful! it is grand!" he exclaimed. "And with just that one
phrase: 'It is the Prussians who are coming,' for a starting point!
Lecoq, my boy, I must say that you have conducted this affair like an
angel!"
"Don't you mean to say like a fool?" asked the discouraged detective.
"No, my friend, certainly not. You have rejoiced my old heart. I can
die; I shall have a successor. Ah! that Gevrol who betrayed you--for
he did betray you, there's no doubt about it--that obtuse, obstinate
'General' is not worthy to blacken your shoes!"
"You overpower me, Monsieur Tabaret!" interrupted Lecoq, as yet
uncertain whether his host was poking fun at him or not. "But it is none
the less true that May has disappeared, and I have lost my reputation
before I had begun to make it."
"Don't be in such a hurry to reject my compliments," replied old
Tabaret, with a horrible grimace. "I say that you have conducted this
investigation very well; but it could have been done much better, very
much better. You have a talent for your work, that's evident; but
you lack experience; you become elated by a trifling advantage, or
discouraged by a mere nothing; you fail, and yet persist in holding fast
to a fixed idea, as a moth flutters about a candle.
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