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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"Monsieur Lecoq"

Lecoq had originally had a magnificent inspiration. In his
first investigations he had displayed remarkable talent; and yet he had
not succeeded. Why? Simply because he had neglected the axiom with which
he started: "Always distrust what seems probable!"
But the young man listened to the oracle's "summing up" with divided
attention. A thousand projects were darting through his brain, and at
length he could no longer restrain himself. "You have saved me from
despair," he exclaimed, "I thought everything was lost; but I see that
my blunders can be repaired. What I neglected to do, I can do now; there
is still time. Haven't I the diamond earring, as well as various effects
belonging to the prisoner, still in my possession? Madame Milner still
owns the Hotel de Mariembourg, and I will watch her."
"And what for, my boy?"
"What for? Why, to find my fugitive, to be sure!"
Had the young detective been less engrossed with his idea, he would have
detected a slight smile that curved Papa Tirauclair's thick lips.
"Ah, my son! is it possible that you don't suspect the real name of this
pretended buffoon?" inquired the oracle somewhat despondently.
Lecoq trembled and averted his face. He did not wish Tabaret to see his
eyes. "No," he replied, "I don't suspect--"
"You are uttering a falsehood!" interrupted the sick man. "You know as
well as I do, that May resides in the Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, and
that he is known as the Duc de Sairmeuse.


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