preoccupied to pay any further attention to the
incident. "Madame," he began, "I wish to speak to the proprietor of this
hotel."

"I am the proprietor."

"Oh! very well. I was expecting a mechanic--from Leipsic--to meet me
here in Paris. To my great surprise, he has not made his appearance; and
I came to inquire if he was stopping here. His name is May."

"May!" repeated the hostess, thoughtfully. "May!"

"He ought to have arrived last Sunday evening."

The woman's face brightened. "Wait a moment," said she. "Was this
friend of yours a middle-aged man, of medium size, of very dark
complexion--wearing a full beard, and having very bright eyes?"

Lecoq could scarcely conceal his agitation. This was an exact
description of the supposed murderer. "Yes," he stammered, "that is a
very good portrait of the man."

"Ah, well! he came here on Shrove Sunday, in the afternoon. He asked for
a cheap room, and I showed him one on the fifth floor. The office-boy
was not here at the time, and he insisted upon taking his trunk upstairs
himself. I offered him some refreshments; but he declined to take
anything, saying that he was in a great hurry; and he went away after
giving me ten francs as security for the rent."

"Where is he now?" inquired the young detective.

"Dear me! that reminds me," replied the woman. "He has never returned,
and I have been rather anxious about him. Paris is such a dangerous
place for strangers! It is true he spoke French as well as you or I;
but what of that? Yesterday evening I gave orders that the commissary of
police should be informed of the matter."

"Yesterday--the commissary?"

"Yes. Still, I don't know whether the boy obeyed me. I had forgotten all
about it. Allow me to ring for the boy, and ask him."

A bucket of iced water falling upon Lecoq's head could not have
astonished him more than did this announcement from the proprietress of
the Hotel de Mariembourg. Had the prisoner indeed told the truth? Was it
possible? Gevrol and the governor of the prison were right, then, and M.
Segmuller and he, Lecoq, were senseless fools, pursuing a fantom. These
ideas flashed rapidly through the young detective's brain. But he had
no time for reflection. The boy who had been summoned now made his
appearance, and proved to be a big overgrown lad with frank, chubby
face.

"Fritz," asked his mistress, "did you go to the commissary's office?"

"Yes, madame."

"What did he say?"

"He was not in; b