Tantaine was not surprised at hearing this, and accounted for Catenac’s change of front by the threats of Mascarin.
“Well, what do you draw from this?” asked he.
“That Catenac has no more information than I have. The Duke most likely proposes to drop the affair; but, were I in his place, I should be afraid to find the boy, however much I might at one time have desired to do so. He may be in prison—the most likely thing for a lad who, at twelve years of age, ran away from a place where he was well treated. I have, however, planned a mode of operation, for, with patience, money, and skill, much might be done.”
“I agree with you.”
“Then let me tell you. I have drawn an imaginary circle round Paris. I said to myself, ‘I will visit every house and inn in the villages round within this radius; I will enter every isolated dwelling, and will say to the inhabitants, “Do any of you remember at any time sheltering and feeding a child, dressed in such and such a manner?”’ giving at the same time a description of him. I am sure that I should find some one who would answer in the affirmative. Then I should gain a clue which I would follow up to the end.”
This plan appeared so ingenious to Tantaine, that he involuntarily exclaimed,—
“Good! excellent!”
Perpignan hardly knew whether Tantaine was praising or blaming him. His manner might have meant either.
“You are very fast,” returned he dismally. “Perhaps presently you will be good enough to allow that I am not an absolute fool. Do you really think that I am an idiot? At any rate, I sometimes hit upon a judicious combination. For example, with regard to this boy, I have a notion which, if properly worked might lead to something.”
“Might I ask what it is?”