"We will start at once," said the commissary.

The driver whipped up his horse once more, and they were soon rapidly
rolling in the direction of the Rue St. Quentin.

"Now, sir," said the young detective, "permit me to ask if you know this
woman who keeps the Hotel de Mariembourg?"

"Yes, indeed, I know her very well. When I was first appointed to this
district, six years ago, I was a bachelor, and for a long while I took
my meals at her table d'hote. Casimir, my secretary, boards there even
now."

"And what kind of woman is she?"

"Why, upon my word, my young friend, Madame Milner--for such is her
name--is a very respectable widow (highly esteemed by her neighbors) and
having a very prosperous business. If she remains a widow, it is only
from choice, for she is very prepossessing and has plenty of suitors."

"Then you don't think her capable of serving, for the sake of a good
round sum, the interests of some wealthy culprit?"

"Have you gone mad?" interrupted the commissary. "What, Madame Milner
perjure herself for the sake of money! Haven't I just told you that she
is an honest woman, and that she is very well off! Besides, she informed
me yesterday that this man was missing, so--"

Lecoq made no reply; the driver was pulling up; they had reached their
destination.

On seeing her obstinate questioner reappear, accompanied by the
commissary, Madame Milner seemed to understand everything.

"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "a detective! I might have guessed it!
Some crime has been committed; and now my hotel has lost its reputation
forever!"

While a messenger was despatched for a locksmith, the commissary
endeavored to reassure and console her, a task of no little difficulty,
and which he was some time in accomplishing.

At last they all went up to the missing man's room, and Lecoq sprang
toward the trunk. Ah! there was no denying it. It had, indeed, come
from Leipsic; as the labels pasted upon it by the different railroad
companies only too plainly proved. On being opened, it was, moreover,
found to contain the various articles mentioned by the prisoner.

Lecoq was thunderstruck. When he had seen the commissary lock the trunk
and its contents up in a cupboard and take possession of the key, he
felt he could endure nothing more. He left the room with downcast head;
and stumbled like a drunken man as he went down the stairs.

XV

Mardi Gras, or Shrove Tuesday, was very gay that year; that is to sa