M. Lecoq started nervously, and replied, frowning: 

“You are too curious, Master Squirrel; be careful that you do not go too far.  Do you understand?”

Fanferlot began to apologize.

“That will do,” interrupted M. Lecoq.  “If I choose to lend you a helping hand, it is because it suits my fancy to do so.  It pleases me to be the head, and let you be the hand.  Unassisted, with your preconceived ideas, you never would have found the culprit; if we two together don’t find him, my name is not Lecoq.”

“We shall certainly succeed if you interest yourself in the case.”

“Yes, I am interested in it, and during the last four days I have discovered many important facts.  But listen to me.  I have reasons for not appearing in this affair.  No matter what happens, I forbid your mentioning my name.  If we succeed, all the success must be attributed to you.  And, above all, don’t try to find out what I choose to keep from you.  Be satisfied with what explanations I give you.  Now, be careful.”

These conditions seemed quite to suit Fanferlot.

“I will obey your instructions, and be discreet.”

“I shall rely upon you.  Now, to begin, you must carry this photograph to the judge of instruction.  I know M. Patrigent is much perplexed about this case.  Explain to him, as if it were your own discovery, what I have just shown you; repeat for his benefit the scene we have acted, and I am convinced that this evidence will determine him to release the cashier.  Prosper must be at liberty before I can commence my operations.”

“Of course, patron, but must I let him know that I suspect anyone besides the banker or cashier?”

“Certainly.  Justice must not be kept in ignorance of your intention of following up this affair.  M. Patrigent will tell you to watch Prosper; you will reply that you will not lose sight of him.  I myself will answer for his being in safe-keeping.”

“Suppose he asks me about Gypsy?”

M. Lecoq hesitated for a moment.

“Tell him,” he finally said, “that you persuaded her, in the interest of Prosper, to live in a house where she can watch someone whom you suspect.”

Fanferlot was joyously picking up his hat to go, when M. Lecoq checked him by waving his hand, and said: 

“I have not finished.  Do you know how to drive a carriage and manage horses?”

“Why, patron, can you ask this of a man who used to be a rider in the Bouthor Circus?”

“Very well.  As soon as the judge dismisses you, return home immediately, make yourself a wig and the complete dress of a valet; and, having dressed yourself, take this letter to the Agency on Delorme Street.”

“But, patron—­”

“There must be no but, my friend; the agent will send you to M. de Clameran, who is looking for a valet, his man having left him yesterday.”

“Excuse me if I venture to suggest that you are making a mistake.  This Clameran is not the cashier’s friend.”