“Oh, ho!” said the governor of the prison, considerably astonished.

“Yes; that’s my plan,” continued Lecoq.  “I want to learn this prisoner’s secret; and I will do so.  That I’ve sworn; and success must be mine, for, however strong his courage may be, he will have his moments of weakness, and then I shall be present at them.  I shall be present if ever his will fails him, if, believing himself alone, he lets his mask fall, or forgets his part for an instant, if an indiscreet word escapes him in his sleep, if his despair elicits a groan, a gesture, or a look—­I shall be there to take note of it.”  The tone of resolution with which the young detective spoke made a deep impression upon the governor’s mind.  For an instant he was a believer in Lecoq’s theory; and he was impressed by the strangeness of this conflict between a prisoner, determined to preserve the secret of his identity, and the agent for the prosecution, equally determined to wrest it from him.  “Upon my word, my boy, you are not wanting in courage and energy,” said he.

“Misdirected as it may be,” growled Gevrol, who, although he spoke very slowly and deliberately, was in his secret soul by no means convinced of what he said.  Faith is contagious, and he was troubled in spite of himself by Lecoq’s imperturbable assurance.  What if this debutant in the profession should be right, and he, Gevrol, the oracle of the Prefecture, wrong!  What shame and ridicule would be his portion, then!  But once again he inwardly swore that this inexperienced youngster could be no match for an old veteran like himself, and then added aloud:  “The prefect of police must have more money than he knows what to do with, to pay two men for such a nonsensical job as this.”

Lecoq disdained to reply to this slighting remark.  For more than a fortnight the General had profited of every opportunity to make himself as disagreeable as possible, and the young detective feared he would be unable to control his temper if the discussion continued.  It would be better to remain silent, and to work and wait for success.  To succeed would be revenge enough!  Moreover, he was impatient to see these unwelcome visitors depart; believing, perhaps, that Gevrol was quite capable of attracting the prisoner’s attention by some unusual sound.

As soon as they went away, Lecoq hastily spread his blanket over the stones and stretched himself out upon it in such a position that he could alternately apply his eye and his ear to the aperture.  In this position he had an admirable view of the cell below.  He could see the door, the bed, the table, and the chair; only the small space near the window and the window itself were beyond his range of observation.  He had scarcely completed his survey, when he heard the bolts rattle:  the prisoner was returning from his walk.  He seemed in excellent spirits, and was just completing what was, undoubtedly, a very interesting story, since the keeper who accompanied him lingered for a moment to hear the finish.  Lecoq was delighted with the success of his experiment.  He could hear as easily as he could see.  Each syllable reached his ear distinctly, and he had not lost a single word of the recital, which was amusing, though rather coarse.