“Why not question him?  He must know all the frequenters of the Poivriere, and might perhaps give us valuable information regarding Gustave, Lacheneur, and the murderer himself.  As he is not in solitary confinement, he has probably heard of his mother’s arrest; but it seems to me impossible that he should suspect our present perplexity.”

“Ah! you are a hundred times right!” exclaimed the magistrate.  “I ought to have thought of that myself.  In his position he can scarcely have been tampered with as yet, and I’ll have him up here to-morrow morning; I will also question his wife.”

Turning to his clerk, M. Segmuller added:  “Quick, Goguet, prepare a summons in the name of the wife of Hippolyte Chupin, and address an order to the governor of the Depot to produce her husband!”

But night was coming on.  It was already too dark to see to write, and accordingly the clerk rang the bell for lights.  Just as the messenger who brought the lamps turned to leave the room, a rap was heard at the door.  Immediately afterward the governor of the Depot entered.

During the past twenty-four hours this worthy functionary had been greatly perplexed concerning the mysterious prisoner he had placed in secret cell No. 3, and he now came to the magistrate for advice regarding him.  “I come to ask,” said he, “if I am still to retain the prisoner May in solitary confinement?”

“Yes.”

“Although I fear fresh attacks of frenzy, I dislike to confine him in the strait-jacket again.”

“Leave him free in his cell,” replied M. Segmuller; “and tell the keepers to watch him well, but to treat him kindly.”

By the provisions of Article 613 of the Code, accused parties are placed in the custody of the government, but the investigating magistrate is allowed to adopt such measures concerning them as he may deem necessary for the interest of the prosecution.

The governor bowed assent to M. Segmuller’s instructions, and then added:  “You have doubtless succeeded in establishing the prisoner’s identity.”

“Unfortunately, I have not.”

The governor shook his head with a knowing air.  “In that case,” said he, “my conjectures were correct.  It seems to me evident that this man is a criminal of the worst description—­an old offender certainly, and one who has the strongest interest in concealing his identity.  You will find that you have to deal with a man who has been sentenced to the galleys for life, and who has managed to escape from Cayenne.”

“Perhaps you are mistaken.”

“Hum!  I shall be greatly surprised if such should prove the case.  I must admit that my opinion in this matter is identical with that of M. Gevrol, the most experienced and the most skilful of our inspectors.  I agree with him in thinking that young detectives are often overzealous, and run after fantoms originated in their own brains.”

Lecoq, crimson with wrath, was about to make an angry response when M. Segmuller motioned to him to remain silent.  Then with a smile on his face the magistrate replied to the governor.  “Upon my word, my dear friend,” he said, “the more I study this affair, the more convinced I am of the correctness of the theory advanced by the ‘overzealous’ detective.  But, after all, I am not infallible, and I shall depend upon your counsel and assistance.”