It so happened that there was a loft between the cell occupied by May and the roof of the prison, a loft of such diminutive proportions that a man of average height could not stand upright in it.  This loft had neither window nor skylight, and the gloom would have been intense, had not a few faint sun-rays struggled through the interstices of some ill-adjusted tiles.  In this unattractive garret Lecoq established himself one fine morning, just at the hour when May was taking his daily walk in the courtyard of the prison accompanied by a couple of keepers.  Under these circumstances there was no fear of Lecoq’s movements attracting the prisoner’s notice or suspicion.  The garret had a paved floor, and first of all the young detective removed one of the stones with a pickax he had brought for the purpose.  Beneath this stone he found a timber beam, through which he next proceeded to bore a hole of funnel shape, large at the top and gradually dwindling until on piercing the ceiling of the cell it was no more than two-thirds of an inch in diameter.  Prior to commencing his operations, Lecoq had visited the prisoner’s quarters and had skilfully chosen the place of the projected aperture, so that the stains and graining of the beam would hide it from the view of any one below.  He was yet at work when the governor of the Depot and his rival Gevrol appeared upon the threshold of the loft.

“So this is to be your observatory, Monsieur Lecoq!” remarked Gevrol, with a sneering laugh.

“Yes, sir.”

“You will not be very comfortable here.”

“I shall be less uncomfortable than you suppose; I have brought a large blanket with me, and I shall stretch myself out on the floor and manage to sleep here.”

“So that, night and day, you will have your eye on the prisoner?”

“Yes, night and day.”

“Without giving yourself time to eat or drink?” inquired Gevrol.

“Excuse me!  Father Absinthe will bring me my meals, execute any errand I may have, and relieve me at times if necessary.”

The jealous General laughed; but his laugh, loud as it was, was yet a trifle constrained.  “Well, I pity you,” he said.

“Very possibly.”

“Do you know what you will look like, with your eye glued to that hole?”

“Like what?  Tell me, we needn’t stand on ceremony.”

“Ah, well!  You will look just like one of those silly naturalists who put all sorts of little insects under a magnifying glass, and spend their lives in watching them.”

Lecoq had finished his work; and rose from his kneeling position.  “You couldn’t have found a better comparison, General,” said he.  “I owe my idea to those very naturalists you speak about so slightingly.  By dint of studying those little creatures—­as you say—­under a microscope, these patient, gifted men discover the habits and instincts of the insect world.  Very well, then.  What they can do with an insect, I will do with a man!”