“Help us!” cried Father Absinthe to the woman, who stood petrified with astonishment; “give us a bar, a piece of iron, a nail—­anything!”

The younger man was making frantic efforts to push back the bolt, or to force the lock from the wood.  He was wild with rage.  At last, having succeeded in forcing the door open, they dashed out in pursuit of their mysterious adversary.  On reaching the street, they eagerly questioned the bystanders.  Having described the man as best they could, they found two persons who had seen him enter the house of Toinon the Virtuous, and a third who had seen him as he left.  Some children who were playing in the middle of the street added that he had run off in the direction of the Rue du Moulin-des-Pres as fast as his legs could carry him.  It was in this street, near the corner of the Rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles, that Lecoq had left old Papillon waiting with the cab.

“Let us hasten there!” proposed Father Absinthe; “perhaps Papillon can give us some information.”

But Lecoq shook his head despondently.  He would go no further.  “It would be of no use,” he said.  “He had sufficient presence of mind to turn the key in the lock, and that saved him.  He is at least ten minutes in advance of us, and we should never overtake him.”

Father Absinthe could not restrain his anger.  He looked upon this mysterious accomplice who had so cruelly duped him as a personal enemy, and he would willingly have given a month’s pay to be able to lay his hand on his shoulder.  Lecoq was quite as angry as his subordinate, and his vanity was likewise wounded; he felt, however, that coolness and deliberation were necessary.

“Yes,” said he thoughtfully, “he’s a shrewd and daring fellow—­a perfect demon.  He doesn’t remain idle.  If we are working, he’s at work too.  No matter what side I turn, I find him on the defensive.  He foiled you, papa, in your effort to obtain a clue concerning Gustave’s identity; and he made me appear a fool in arranging that little comedy at the Hotel de Mariembourg.  His diligence has been wonderful.  He has hitherto been in advance of us everywhere, and this fact explains the failures that have attended all my efforts.  Here we arrive before him.  But if he came here, it was because he scented danger.  Hence, we may hope.  Now let us get back and question Polyte’s wife.”

Alas! poor Toinon the Virtuous did not understand the affair at all.  She had remained upstairs, holding her child by the hand, and leaning over the baluster; her mind in great perplexity and her eyes and ears on the alert.  As soon as she perceived the two detectives coming up the stairs again, she hastened down to meet them.  “In the name of heaven, what does this all mean?” she asked.  “Whatever has happened?”

But Lecoq was not the man to tell his business on a landing, with inquisitive ears all around him, and before he answered Toinon he made her go up into her own garret, and securely close the door.