e of hours' work still for Papa Tignol and me, but it's half past
two, Lucien, and, unless you think of something----"

"No, except to wish you luck," replied the commissary, and he started to
go.

"Wait," put in Tignol, "there's something _I_ think of. You forget I've
been playing the flute to-day."

"Ah, yes, of course! Any news?" questioned the detective.

The old man rubbed his nose meditatively. "My news is asleep in the next
room. If it wasn't so late I'd bring him in. He's a little shrimp of a
photographer, but--he's seen your murderer, all right."

"The devil!" started M. Paul. "Where?"

Tignol drew back the double doors of a long window, and pointed out to a
balcony running along the front of the hotel.

"There! Let me tell you first how this floor is arranged. There are six
rooms opening on that balcony. See here," and taking a sheet of paper, he
made a rough diagram.

[Illustration: Diagram of floor-plan of rooms.]

"Now, then," continued Papa Tignol, surveying his handiwork with pride, "I
think that is clear. B, here, is the balcony just outside, and there are
the six rooms with windows opening on it. We are in this room D, and my
friend, the little photographer, is in the next room E, peacefully
sleeping; but he wasn't peaceful when he came home to-night and heard me
playing that flute, although I played in my best manner, eh, eh! He stood
it for about ten minutes, and then, eh, eh! It was another case of through
the wall, first one boot, bang! then another boot, smash! only there were
no holes for the boots to come through. And then it was profanity! For a
small man he had a great deal of energy, eh, eh! that shrimp photographer!
I called him a shrimp when he came bouncing in here."

"Well, well?" fretted Coquenil.

"Then we got acquainted. I apologized and offered him beer, which he
likes; then he apologized and told me his troubles. Poor fellow, I don't
wonder his nerves are unstrung! He's in love with a pretty dressmaker who
lives in this room C. She is fair but fickle--he tells me she has made him
unhappy by flirting with a medical student who lives in this room G. Just a
minute, I'm coming to the point.

"It seems the little photographer has been getting more and more jealous
lately. He was satisfied that his lady love and the medical student used
this balcony as a lover's lane, and he began lying in wait at his window
for the medical student to steal past toward the dress-maker's room."