f for the visit of the judge of
instruction, when Maurice d'Escorval entered.

They recognized each other. They were both terribly agitated, and the
examination was an examination only in name. After the departure of
Maurice, Martial attempted to destroy himself. He had no faith in the
generosity of his former enemy.

But when he found M. Segmuller occupying Maurice's place the next
morning, Martial believed that he was saved.

Then began that struggle between the judge and Lecoq on one side, and
the accused on the other--a struggle from which neither party came out
conqueror.

Martial knew that Lecoq was the only person he had to fear, still he
bore him no ill-will. Faithful to his nature, which compelled him to
be just even to his enemies, he could not help admiring the astonishing
penetration and perseverance of this young policeman who, undismayed
by the obstacles and discouragements that surrounded him, struggled on,
unassisted, to reach the truth.

But Lecoq was always outwitted by Otto, the mysterious accomplice, who
seemed to know his every movement in advance.

At the morgue, at the Hotel de Mariembourg, with Toinon, the wife of
Polyte Chupin, as well as with Polyte Chupin himself, Lecoq was just a
little too late.

Lecoq detected the secret correspondence between the prisoner and his
accomplice. He was even ingenious enough to discover the key to it, but
this served no purpose. A man, who had seen a rival, or rather, a future
master, in Lecoq had betrayed him.

If his efforts to arrive at the truth through the jeweller and the
Marquis d'Arlange had failed, it was only because Mme. Blanche had not
purchased the diamond ear-rings she wore at the Poivriere at any shop,
but from one of her friends, the Baroness de Watchau.

And lastly, if no one at Paris had missed the Duc de Sairmeuse, it
was because--thanks to an understanding between the duchess, Otto,
and Camille--no other inmate of the Hotel de Sairmeuse suspected his
absence. All the servants supposed their master confined to his room by
illness. They prepared all sorts of gruels and broths for him, and his
breakfast and dinner were taken to his apartments every day.

So the weeks went by, and Martial was expecting to be summoned before
the Court of Assizes and condemned under the name of May, when he was
afforded an opportunity to escape.

Too shrewd not to discern the trap that had been set for him, he endured
some moments of horrible hesitat