he money out with no
difficulty; I began to jump about as if I were delighted, and begged
him to let me treat him to a glass of wine."

"Not bad."

"Oh, Monsieur Lecoq, it is one of your tricks, you know. My porter
accepted my invitation, and we soon got to be the best friends in
the world over some wine in a shop just across the street from the
house. We were having a jolly talk together when, all of a sudden,
I leaned over as if I had just espied something on the floor, and
picked up--the photograph, which I had dropped and soiled a little
with my foot. 'What,' cried I, 'a portrait?' My new friend took
it, looked at it, and didn't seem to recognize it. Then, to be
certain, I said, 'He's a very good-looking fellow, ain't he now?
Your master must be some such a man.' But he said no, that the
photograph was of a man who was bearded, while his master was as
clean-faced as an abbe. 'Besides,' he added, 'my master is an
American; he gives us our orders in French, but Madame and he always
talk English together.'"

M. Lecoq's eye glistened as Palot proceeded.

"Tremorel speaks English, doesn't he?" asked he of M. Plantat.

"Quite well; and Laurence too."

"If that is so, we are on the right track, for we know that Tremorel
shaved his beard off on the night of the murder. We can go on--"

Palot meanwhile seemed a little uneasy at not receiving the praise
he expected.

"My lad," said M. Lecoq, turning to him, "I think you have done
admirably, and a good reward shall prove it to you. Being ignorant
of what we know, your conclusions were perfectly right. But let's
go to the house at once; have you got a plan of the ground-floor?"

"Yes, and also of the first floor above. The porter was not dumb,
and so he gave me a good deal of information about his master and
mistress, though he has only been there two days. The lady is
dreadfully melancholy, and cries all the time."

"We know it; the plan--"

"Below, there is a large and high paved arch for the carriages to
pass through; on the other side is a good-sized courtyard, at the
end of which are the stable and carriage-house. The porter's lodge
is on the left of the arch; on the right a glass door opens on a
staircase with six steps, which conducts to a vestibule into which
the drawing-room, dining-room, and two other little rooms open.
The chambers are on the first floor, a study, a--"

"Enough," M. Lecoq said, "my plan is made."

And rising abruptly, he opened the