be absurd.

"To me, then, this piece of cloth, this smeared vest, indicate at
once Guespin's innocence and the count's guilt."

"But," objected Dr. Gendron, "if Guespin is innocent, why don't
he talk? Why don't he prove an alibi? How was it he had his purse
full of money?"

"Observe," resumed the detective, "that I don't say he is innocent;
we are still among the probabilities. Can't you suppose that the
count, perfidious enough to set a trap for his servant, was shrewd
enough to deprive him of every means of proving an alibi?"

"But you yourself deny the count's shrewdness."

"I beg your pardon; please hear me. The count's plan was excellent,
and shows a superior kind of perversity; the execution alone was
defective. This is because the plan was conceived and perfected
in safety, while when the crime had been committed, the murderer,
distressed, frightened at his danger, lost his coolness and only
half executed his project. But there are other suppositions. It
might be asked whether, while Madame de Tremorel was being murdered,
Guespin might not have been committing some other crime elsewhere."

This conjecture seemed so improbable to the doctor that he could
not avoid objecting to it. "Oh!" muttered he.

"Don't forget," replied Lecoq, "that the field of conjectures has
no bounds. Imagine whatever complication of events you may, I am
ready to maintain that such a complication has occurred or will
present itself. Lieuben, a German lunatic, bet that he would
succeed in turning up a pack of cards in the order stated in the
written agreement. He turned and turned ten hours per day for
twenty years. He had repeated the operation 4,246,028 times, when
he succeeded."

M. Lecoq was about to proceed with another illustration, when M.
Plantat interrupted him by a gesture.

"I admit your hypotheses; I think they are more than probable
--they are true."

M. Lecoq, as he spoke, paced up and down between the window and
the book-shelves, stopping at emphatic words, like a general who
dictates to his aides the plan of the morrow's battle. To his
auditors, he seemed a new man, with serious features, an eye bright
with intelligence, his sentences clear and concise--the Lecoq, in
short, which the magistrates who have employed his talents, would
recognize.

"Now," he resumed, "hear me. It is ten o'clock at night. No noise
without, the road deserted, the village lights extinguished, the
chateau servants away at Paris. The