te, "that
she was acquainted with the people who came to her house--with the
women, the victims, the murderer--with all of them, in fact. I am
positive as regards that fellow Gustave--I read it in her eyes. I am
also convinced that she knows Lacheneur--the man upon whom the dying
soldier breathed vengeance--the mysterious personage who evidently
possesses the key to the enigma. That man must be found."

"Ah!" replied Lecoq, "and I will find him even if I have to question
every one of the eleven hundred thousand men who constantly walk the
streets of Paris!"

This was promising so much that the magistrate, despite his
preoccupation, could not repress a smile.

"If this old woman would only decide to make a clean breast of it at her
next examination!" remarked Lecoq.

"Yes. But she won't."

The young detective shook his head despondently. Such was his own
opinion. He did not delude himself with false hopes, and he had noticed
between the Widow Chupin's eyebrows those furrows which, according to
physiognomists, indicate a senseless, brutish obstinacy.

"Women never confess," resumed the magistrate; "and even when they
seemingly resign themselves to such a course they are not sincere. They
fancy they have discovered some means of misleading their examiner. On
the contrary, evidence will crush the most obstinate man; he gives up
the struggle, and confesses. Now, a woman scoffs at evidence. Show her
the sun; tell her it's daytime; at once she will close her eyes and
say to you, 'No, it's night.' Male prisoners plan and combine different
systems of defense according to their social positions; the women, on
the contrary, have but one system, no matter what may be their condition
in life. They deny everything, persist in their denials even when the
proof against them is overwhelming, and then they cry. When I worry the
Chupin with disagreeable questions, at her next examination, you may be
sure she will turn her eyes into a fountain of tears."

In his impatience, M. Segmuller angrily stamped his foot. He had many
weapons in his arsenal; but none strong enough to break a woman's dogged
resistance.

"If I only understood the motive that guides this old hag!" he
continued. "But not a clue! Who can tell me what powerful interest
induces her to remain silent? Is it her own cause that she is defending?
Is she an accomplice? Is it certain that she did not aid the murderer in
planning an ambuscade?"

"Yes," responded Lecoq,