The astronomer, amazed at the simplicity of the plan, could but admire it.  On reflection, however, he concluded that it would not be prudent for him to retain so ingenious a secretary in his service.  This was why, on the following day, he gave him a month’s pay in advance, and dismissed him, saying:  “When one has your disposition, and is poor, one may either become a famous thief or a great detective.  Choose.”

Lecoq retired in confusion; but the astronomer’s words bore fruit in his mind.  “Why should I not follow good advice?” he asked himself.  Police service did not inspire him with repugnance—­far from it.  He had often admired that mysterious power whose hand is everywhere, and which, although unseen and unheard, still manages to hear and see everything.  He was delighted with the prospect of being the instrument of such a power.  He considered that the profession of detective would enable him to employ the talents with which he had been endowed in a useful and honorable fashion; besides opening out a life of thrilling adventure with fame as its goal.

In short, this profession had a wonderful charm for him.  So much so, that on the following week, thanks to a letter from Baron Moser, he was admitted into the service.  A cruel disenchantment awaited him.  He had seen the results, but not the means.  His surprise was like that of a simple-minded frequenter of the theatre, when he is admitted for the first time behind the scenes, and is able to pry into the decorations and tinsel that are so dazzling at a distance.

However, the opportunity for which he had so ardently longed, for which he had been waiting during many weary months, had come, he thought, at last, as he reached the Poivriere with Gevrol and the other police agents.  While he was clinging to the window shutters he saw by the light of his ambition a pathway to success.  It was at first only a presentiment, but it soon became a supposition, and then a conviction based upon actual facts, which had escaped his companions, but which he had observed and carefully noted.  He recognized that fortune had, at last, turned in his favor when he saw Gevrol neglect all but the merest formalities of examination, and when he heard him declare peremptorily that this triple murder was merely the result of one of those ferocious quarrels so frequent among vagrants in the outskirts of the city.

“Ah, well!” he thought; “have it your own way—­trust in appearances, since you will see nothing beneath them!  But I will prove to you that my youthful theory is better than all your experience.”

The inspector’s carelessness gave Lecoq a perfect right to secretly seek information on his own account; but by warning his superior officers before attempting anything on his own responsibility, he would protect himself against any accusation of ambition or of unduly taking advantage of his comrade.  Such charges might prove most dangerous for his future prospects in a profession where so much rivalry is seen, and where wounded vanity has so many opportunities to avenge itself by resorting to all sorts of petty treason.  Accordingly, he spoke to his superior officer—­saying just enough to be able to remark, in case of success:  “Ah!  I warned you!”—­just enough so as not to dispel any of Gevrol’s doubts.