“Did you see her face?”

“I just caught a glimpse of it.”

“Could you tell if she were pretty, or whether she was a blonde or brunette?”

So many questions at a time confused the driver.  “Stop a minute!” he replied.  “In my opinion she wasn’t pretty, and I don’t believe she was young, but she certainly was a blonde, and with plenty of hair too.”

“Was she tall or short, stout or slender?”

“Between the two.”

This was very vague.  “And the other,” asked Lecoq, “the neatly dressed one?”

“The deuce!  As for her, I did not notice her at all; all I know about her is that she was very small.”

“Would you recognize her if you met her again?”

“Good heavens! no.”

The vehicle was now rolling along the Rue de Bourgogne.  Half-way down the street the driver pulled up, and, turning to Lecoq, exclaimed:  “Here we are.  That’s the house the hussies went into.”

To draw off the silk handkerchief that served him as a muffler, to fold it and slip it into his pocket, to spring to the ground and enter the house indicated, was only the work of an instant for the young detective.

In the concierge’s little room he found an old woman knitting.  Lecoq bowed to her politely, and, displaying the silk handkerchief, exclaimed:  “Madame, I have come to return this article to one of your lodgers.”

“To which one?”

“Really, I don’t exactly know.”

In a moment the worthy dame imagined that this polite young man was making fun of her.  “You scamp—!” she began.

“Excuse me,” interrupted Lecoq; “allow me to finish.  I must tell you that at about three o’clock in the morning, of the day before yesterday, I was quietly returning home, when two ladies, who were seemingly in a great hurry, overtook me and passed on.  One of them dropped this handkerchief, which I picked up.  I hastened after her to restore it, but before I could overtake them they had rung the bell at your door and were already in the house.  I did not like to ring at such an unearthly hour for fear of disturbing you.  Yesterday I was so busy I couldn’t come; however, here I am at last, and here’s the handkerchief.”  So saying, Lecoq laid the handkerchief on the table, and turned as if to go, when the concierge detained him.

“Many thanks for your kindness,” said she, “but you can keep it.  We have no ladies in this house who are in the habit of coming home alone after midnight.”

“Still I have eyes,” insisted Lecoq, “and I certainly saw—­”

“Ah!  I had forgotten,” exclaimed the old woman.  “The night you speak of some one certainly did ring the bell here.  I pulled the string that opens the door and listened, but not hearing any one close the door or come upstairs, I said to myself:  ’Some mischievous fellow has been playing a trick on me.’  I slipped on my dress and went out into the hall, where I saw two women hastening toward the door.  Before I could reach them they slammed the door in my face.  I opened it again as quickly as I could and looked out into the street.  But they were hurrying away as fast as they could.”