if necessary."

The jealous General laughed; but his laugh, loud as it was, was yet a
trifle constrained. "Well, I pity you," he said.

"Very possibly."

"Do you know what you will look like, with your eye glued to that hole?"

"Like what? Tell me, we needn't stand on ceremony."

"Ah, well! You will look just like one of those silly naturalists who
put all sorts of little insects under a magnifying glass, and spend
their lives in watching them."

Lecoq had finished his work; and rose from his kneeling position. "You
couldn't have found a better comparison, General," said he. "I owe my
idea to those very naturalists you speak about so slightingly. By dint
of studying those little creatures--as you say--under a microscope,
these patient, gifted men discover the habits and instincts of the
insect world. Very well, then. What they can do with an insect, I will
do with a man!"

"Oh, ho!" said the governor of the prison, considerably astonished.

"Yes; that's my plan," continued Lecoq. "I want to learn this prisoner's
secret; and I will do so. That I've sworn; and success must be mine,
for, however strong his courage may be, he will have his moments of
weakness, and then I shall be present at them. I shall be present if
ever his will fails him, if, believing himself alone, he lets his mask
fall, or forgets his part for an instant, if an indiscreet word escapes
him in his sleep, if his despair elicits a groan, a gesture, or a
look--I shall be there to take note of it." The tone of resolution
with which the young detective spoke made a deep impression upon the
governor's mind. For an instant he was a believer in Lecoq's theory; and
he was impressed by the strangeness of this conflict between a prisoner,
determined to preserve the secret of his identity, and the agent for the
prosecution, equally determined to wrest it from him. "Upon my word, my
boy, you are not wanting in courage and energy," said he.

"Misdirected as it may be," growled Gevrol, who, although he spoke very
slowly and deliberately, was in his secret soul by no means convinced
of what he said. Faith is contagious, and he was troubled in spite of
himself by Lecoq's imperturbable assurance. What if this debutant in
the profession should be right, and he, Gevrol, the oracle of the
Prefecture, wrong! What shame and ridicule would be his portion, then!
But once again he inwardly swore that this inexperienced youngster could
be no match for an old veteran l