of the means to prove your innocence, you
became afraid, and thought you would save yourself by holding your
tongue."

The prisoner's countenance visibly changed; his nerves relaxed;
his tight lips fell apart; his mind opened itself to hope. But he
still resisted.

"Do with me as you like," said he.

"Eh! What should we do with such a fool as you?" cried M. Lecoq
angrily. "I begin to think you are a rascal too. A decent fellow
would see that we wanted to get him out of a scrape, and he'd tell
us the truth. You are prolonging your imprisonment by your own
will. You'd better learn that the greatest shrewdness consists in
telling the truth. A last time, will you answer?"

Guespin shook his head; no.

"Go back to prison, then; since it pleases you," concluded the
detective. He looked at the judge for his approval, and added:

"Gendarmes, remove the prisoner."

The judge's last doubt was dissipated like the mist before the sun.
He was, to tell the truth, a little uneasy at having treated the
detective so rudely; and he tried to repair it as much as he could.

"You are an able man, Monsieur Lecoq," said he. "Without speaking
of your clearsightedness, which is so prompt as to seem almost like
second sight, your examination just now was a master-piece of its
kind. Receive my congratulations, to say nothing of the reward
which I propose to recommend in your favor to your chiefs."

The detective at these compliments cast down his eyes with the
abashed air of a virgin. He looked tenderly at the dear defunct's
portrait, and doubtless said to it:

"At last, darling, we have defeated him--this austere judge who so
heartily detests the force of which we are the brightest ornament,
makes his apologies; he recognizes and applauds our services."

He answered aloud:

"I can only accept half of your eulogies, Monsieur; permit me to
offer the other half to my friend Monsieur Plantat."

M. Plantat tried to protest.

"Oh," said he, "only for some bits of information! You would have
ferreted out the truth without me all the same."

The judge arose and graciously, but not without effort, extended
his hand to M. Lecoq, who respectfully pressed it.

"You have spared me," said the judge, "a great remorse. Guespin's
innocence would surely sooner or later have been recognized; but
the idea of having imprisoned an innocent man and harassed him with
my interrogatories, would have disturbed my sleep and tormented my
conscience fo