of a man, and his education, reading, relations, and daily conversation have procured him a number of acquaintances whom he will try to use.  Now for his mind.  We know the weakness of his character; soft, feeble, vacillating, only acting in the last extremity.  We have seen him shrinking from decisive steps, trying always to delay matters.  He is given to being deceived by illusions, and to taking his desires for accomplished events.  In short, he is a coward.  And what is his situation?  He has killed his wife, he hopes he has created a belief in his own death, he has eloped with a young girl, and he has got nearly or quite a million of francs in his pocket.  Now, this position admitted, as well as the man’s character and mind, can we by an effort of thought, reasoning from his known actions, discover what he has done in such and such a case?  I think so, and I hope I shall prove it to you.”

M. Lecoq rose and promenaded, as his habit was, up and down the room.  “Now let’s see,” he continued, “how I ought to proceed in order to discover the probable conduct of a man whose antecedents, traits, and mind are known to me.  To begin with, I throw off my own individuality and try to assume his.  I substitute his will for my own.  I cease to be a detective and become this man, whatever he is.  In this case, for instance, I know very well what I should do if I were Tremorel.  I should take such measures as would throw all the detectives in the universe off the scent.  But I must forget Monsieur Lecoq in order to become Hector de Tremorel.  How would a man reason who was base enough to rob his friend of his wife, and then see her poison her husband before his very eyes?  We already know that Tremorel hesitated a good while before deciding to commit this crime.  The logic of events, which fools call fatality, urged him on.  It is certain that he looked upon the murder in every point of view, studied its results, and tried to find means to escape from justice.  All his acts were determined on long beforehand, and neither immediate necessity nor unforeseen circumstances disturbed his mind.  The moment he had decided on the crime, he said to himself:  ’Grant that Bertha has been murdered; thanks to my precautions, they think that I have been killed too; Laurence, with whom I elope, writes a letter in which she announces her suicide; I have money, what must I do?’ The problem, it seems to me, is fairly put in this way.”

“Perfectly so,” approved M. Plantat.

“Naturally, Tremorel would choose from among all the methods of flight of which he had ever heard, or which he could imagine, that which seemed to him the surest and most prompt.  Did he meditate leaving the country?  That is more than probable.  Only, as he was not quite out of his senses, he saw that it was most difficult, in a foreign country, to put justice off the track.  If a man flies from France to escape punishment, he acts absurdly.  Fancy a man and woman wandering about a country of