The wily detective’s face assumed an expression of intense embarrassment.

“Ah! sir,” he replied with a great show of reluctance, “they pretend that you have allowed yourself to be deceived by me, and that you haven’t weighed at their proper worth the proofs I’ve furnished.”

A fleeting flush mantled over M. Segmuller’s forehead.  “In a word,” said he, “they think I’m your dupe—­and a fool besides.”

The recollection of certain sarcastic smiles he had often detected on the faces of colleagues and subordinates alike, the memory of numerous covert allusions to Casper Hauser, and the Man with the Iron Mask—­allusions which had stung him to the quick—­induced him to hesitate no longer.

“Very well!  I will aid you, Monsieur Lecoq,” he exclaimed.  “I should like you to triumph over your enemies.  I will get up at once and accompany you to the Palais de Justice.  I will see the public prosecutor myself; I will speak to him, and plead your case for you.”

Lecoq’s joy was intense.  Never, no never, had he dared to hope for such assistance.  Ah! after this he would willingly go through fire on M. Segmuller’s behalf.  And yet, despite his inward exultation, he had sufficient control over his feelings to preserve a sober face.  This victory must be concealed under penalty of forfeiting the benefits that might accrue from it.  Certainly, the young detective had said nothing that was untrue; but there are different ways of presenting the truth, and he had, perhaps, exaggerated a trifle in order to excite the magistrate’s rancor, and win his needful assistance.

“I suppose,” remarked M. Segmuller, who was now quite calm again—­no outward sign of wounded vanity being perceptible—­“I suppose you have decided what stratagem must be employed to lull the prisoner’s suspicions if he is permitted to escape.”

“I must confess I haven’t given it a thought,” replied Lecoq.  “Besides, what good would any such stratagem do?  He knows too well that he is the object of suspicion not to remain on the alert.  Still, there is one precaution which I believe absolutely necessary, indispensable indeed, if we wish to be successful.”

“What precaution do you mean?” inquired the magistrate.

“Well, sir, I think an order should be given to have May transferred to another prison.  It doesn’t in the least matter which; you can select the one you please.”

“Why should we do that?”

“Because, during the few days preceding his release, it is absolutely necessary he should hold no communication with his friends outside, and that he should be unable to warn his accomplice.”

“Then you think he’s badly guarded where he is?” inquired M. Segmuller with seeming amazement.

“No, sir, I did not say that.  I am satisfied that since the affair of the cipher note the governor’s vigilance has been unimpeachable.  However, news from outside certainly reaches the suspected murderer at the Depot; we have had material evidence—­full proof of that—­and besides—­”