“I shall now be able to find him,” muttered Catenac.

“But that is Perpignan’s business.  You will see him put on an air of the greatest importance, and appear quite overjoyed at the news he has obtained at the office of the mayor.  He will say that the inquiry at Vendome is over, and that it will be best to return to Paris at once.  Of course, you will make no objection.  You will permit the Duke to make a handsome present to Lorgelin and Frejot; but take care not to leave him behind you.  I advise you to regain Paris without a moment’s delay.  The wily Perpignan, on your return, will at once take you to the head police office, where Vigoureux will have left his papers, like other men of his profession.  If there is any difficulty in obtaining a sight of them, the Duke de Champdoce will act as a talisman.  You will then discover that in 1864, the man Vigoureux was sentenced to a term of imprisonment for disorderly conduct, and that he now keeps a wine-shop at the corner of the Rue Depleux.”

“Stop a bit,” said Catenac, “and let me take down the address.”

“When you go there, you will recognize Vigoureux by the loss of his finger.  He will at once admit that the lad followed him, and remained in the troupe for ten months.  He was a good enough lad, but as grand as a peacock, and as lazy as a dormouse.  He made great friends with an old Alsatian, called Fritz, who was the conductor of the orchestra, and by-and-by both were so fond of each other, that one day they went off in each other’s company.  Now you want to know what has become of Fritz?  I know Vigoureux will get tired of this prolonged string of questions, and behave violently; then you will threaten him for having carried off a youth of tender years, and he will calm down, and become as mild as mother’s milk, and will promise to gain information for you.  In a week he will give the information that Fritz is to be found at the Hospital Magloire.”

Absolutely dumb with surprise, the audience listened to these strange assertions, which dovetailed so exactly into each other, and seemed to have been the work of years of research.

“Fritz,” continued Mascarin, “is a sly old dog.  You will find an old, rickety, blue-eyed man at the hospital, and remember to tell the Duke de Champdoce that he must not put too much faith in him.  This wily old Alsatian will tell you of all the sacrifices he made for the dear lad.  He will tell you that he often went without his beer and tobacco in order to pay for the music lessons that he forced the boy to take.  He will tell you that he wanted to get him into the Government School of Music, for that he possessed great vocal and instrumental talent, and he cherished the hope of one day seeing him a great composer, like Weber or Mozart.  I expect that this flow of self-praise will melt the heart of your client, for he will see that his son had made an effort to rise out of the mire by his own exertions, and will, in this energy, recognize one of the characteristics of the Champdoce family; and on the strength of this testimony he will almost be ready to accept the young man as his son.”