Then by an act of heroism, he condescended to add: 

“What do you think I ought to do?”

The judge was at least rewarded for the effort he made by approving glances from M. Plantat and the doctor.  But M. Lecoq did not hasten to respond; he had many weighty reasons to advance; that, he saw, was not what was necessary.  He ought to present the facts, there and at once, and produce one of those proofs which can be touched with the finger.  How should he do it?  His active mind searched eagerly for such a proof.

“Well?” insisted M. Domini.

“Ah,” cried the detective.  “Why can’t I ask Guespin two or three questions?”

The judge frowned; the suggestion seemed to him rather presumptuous.  It is formally laid down that the questioning of the accused should be done in secret, and by the judge alone, aided by his clerk.  On the other hand it is decided, that after he has once been interrogated he may be confronted with witnesses.  There are, besides, exceptions in favor of the members of the police force.  M. Domini reflected whether there were any precedents to apply to the case.

“I don’t know,” he answered at last, “to what point the law permits me to consent to what you ask.  However, as I am convinced the interests of truth outweigh all rules, I shall take it on myself to let you question Guespin.”

He rang; a bailiff appeared.

“Has Guespin been carried back to prison?”

“Not yet, Monsieur.”

“So much the better; have him brought in here.”

M. Lecoq was beside himself with joy; he had not hoped to achieve such a victory over one so determined as M. Domini.

“He will speak now,” said he, so full of confidence that his eyes shone, and he forgot the portrait of the dear defunct, “for I have three means of unloosening his tongue, one of which is sure to succeed.  But before he comes I should like to know one thing.  Do you know whether Tremorel saw Jenny after Sauvresy’s death?”

“Jenny?” asked M. Plantat, a little surprised.

“Yes.”

“Certainly he did.”

“Several times?”

“Pretty often.  After the scene at the Belle Image the poor girl plunged into terrible dissipation.  Whether she was smitten with remorse, or understood that it was her conduct which had killed Sauvresy, or suspected the crime, I don’t know.  She began, however, to drink furiously, falling lower and lower every week—­”

“And the count really consented to see her again?”

“He was forced to do so; she tormented him, and he was afraid of her.  When she had spent all her money she sent to him for more, and he gave it.  Once he refused; and that very evening she went to him the worse for wine, and he had the greatest difficulty in the world to send her away again.  In short, she knew what his relations with Madame Sauvresy had been, and she threatened him; it was a regular black-mailing operation.  He told me all about the trouble she gave him, and added that he would not be able to get rid of her without shutting her up, which he could not bring himself to do.”