s death her furniture
and personal effects had been taken to the great auction mart in the Rue
Drouot; the sale being conducted by M. Petit, the eminent auctioneer.

Without losing a minute, Lecoq hastened to this individual's office.
M. Petit remembered the Watchau sale very well; it had made quite a
sensation at the time, and on searching among his papers he soon found
a long catalogue of the various articles sold. Several lots of jewelry
were mentioned, with the sums paid, and the names of the purchasers; but
there was not the slightest allusion to these particular earrings. When
Lecoq produced the diamond he had in his pocket, the auctioneer could
not remember that he had ever seen it; though of course this was no
evidence to the contrary, for, as he himself remarked,--so many articles
passed through his hands! However, this much he could declare upon oath;
the baroness's brother, her only heir, had preserved nothing--not so
much as a pin's worth of his sister's effects: although he had been in a
great hurry to receive the proceeds, which amounted to the pleasant sum
of one hundred and sixty-seven thousand five hundred and thirty francs,
all expenses deducted.

"Everything this lady possessed was sold?" inquired Lecoq.

"Everything."

"And what is the name of this brother of hers?"

"Watchau, also. The baroness had probably married one of her relatives.
Until last year her brother occupied a very prominent diplomatic
position. I think he now resides at Berlin."

Certainly this information would not seem to indicate that the
auctioneer had been tampered with; and yet Lecoq was not satisfied. "It
is very strange," he thought, as he walked toward his lodgings, "that
whichever side I turn, in this affair, I find mention of Germany. The
murderer comes from Leipsic, Madame Milner must be a Bavarian, and now
here is an Austrian baroness."

It was too late to make any further inquiries that evening, and Lecoq
went to bed; but the next morning, at an early hour, he resumed his
investigations with fresh ardor. There now seemed only one remaining
clue to success: the letter signed "Lacheneur," which had been found
in the pocket of the murdered soldier. This letter, judging from the
half-effaced heading at the top of the note-paper, must have been
written in some cafe on the Boulevard Beaumarchais. To discover which
precise cafe would be mere child's play; and indeed the fourth landlord
to whom Lecoq exhibited the lette